#like I was open minded for it but I wasn’t excited about it and that’s bad for the main ship

[anhedoniawrites]

it’s not a date, we just kinda fuck around.

gif by @reidgif

june baby - victoria canal

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader.

summary: the two youngest BAU agents go on a first date

genre: fluff💌

word count: 8.5k

warnings: no use of y/n, proofread, none! (this is all foreplay for the smut that’s coming)

masterlist!

You never thought Spencer Reid would actually work up the courage to ask you out. Yet here you were, standing in your apartment with only ten minutes to spare, staring at your closet like it held the answer to life itself. Nothing seemed good enough, and you still had no idea what to wear. If you’d had even the slightest inkling that this day would come, you would have pre-planned outfits for every possible scenario—a casual coffee shop, a romantic dinner, even an impromptu museum date. But you hadn’t, because as much as you’d daydreamed about it, you never thought it would happen.

Spencer Reid had always been a harmless work crush. Brilliant, kind, and charming in his uniquely awkward way, he was the type of man you admired from a distance, assuming he was far too shy—or uninterested—to make a move. Yet somehow, against all odds, you were, nervously getting ready to go on a date with him.

The memory of how it all unfolded still made you smile. You’d been in the work kitchen, fixing your usual afternoon coffee, when Spencer had wandered in with his signature blend of distracted focus and nervous energy. You glanced up as he approached, expecting nothing more than a quick hello and maybe some small talk about the latest case. Instead, he surprised you.

“Hi,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. He stood a little too close to the coffee pot, fiddling with the lid as if it held the courage he needed.

“Hey, Spencer,” you replied, smiling warmly.

They chatted about nothing in particular—books, coffee, the endless intricacies of caffeine preferences—until, without warning, he blurted out the question.

“Would you, um… would you ever want to get coffee together? Like, outside of work?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t a grand gesture or a sweeping declaration, but it was undeniably Spencer—quiet, earnest, and completely endearing. You’d barely managed to contain your excitement as you said yes, feeling like a teenager with a crush all over again.

Now, standing in your room, you glanced at the clock. Seven minutes. You grabbed a dress—something simple yet flattering—and slipped it on, your mind racing. You’d been waiting for this moment since the day you joined the team, and now that it was yours, you couldn’t help but wonder how the evening would go. Would he be his usual awkward self? Would he surprise you again with something bold and unexpected?

Whatever happened, you knew one thing: Spencer Reid had already managed to surprise you once.

Seven agonising minutes—each second stretched out like an eternity. The silence was suffocating, gnawing at you from the inside out, until the sudden knock at the door broke the tension. Your heart leapt in your chest. He was here. Spencer was finally here, and your nerves threatened to spill over.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, before opening the door with a forced smile. The sight of him standing there, his hands fidgeting nervously, only made your own anxiety rise. He looked just as uneasy, maybe even more so. His usually confident posture was slightly hunched, his eyes darting to the floor, avoiding yours for a moment before he met your gaze.

“Hey, Spence,” you greeted, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to sound calm.

“Hey, I- um…” Spencer hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His voice was soft, uncertain. He stepped forward, pulling a bouquet of lilies from behind his figure. The delicate white flowers were a perfect match for your taste, and you couldn’t help but smile, your nerves easing just a little. “These are for you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, your smile widening. “Spence, you shouldn’t have,” you said, reaching out to take the bouquet, feeling a warmth in your fingertips as you touched the smooth, delicate petals. The scent of the lilies was intoxicating, and for a moment, you were lost in the fragrance.

He shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting around as if searching for something to say. “I, uh… I thought you’d like them.”

You stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “You thought right. Come in, Spence.”

He followed you into your apartment, his presence oddly comforting despite the tension still hanging between them. You quickly moved toward the kitchen, trying to focus on something, anything, to distract yourself from the storm of emotions churning inside you.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. The apartment was far from pristine. The cluttered coffee table, the dishes piled up in the sink—it wasn’t the welcoming space you’d imagined showing him. “I’m so sorry the place is a mess,” you said, your cheeks warming with self-consciousness. You carefully set the lilies down on the counter, your hands trembling slightly as you arranged them.

Spencer’s eyes softened as he glanced around, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s fine,” he reassured you, his voice gentle. “You should see my place.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound soft and nervous. As you filled a vase with water, you thought back to the little things he had taught you, like how to properly cut the stems of flowers to help them last longer. You carefully angled the scissors and snipped each stem at a diagonal, the sound of the cut echoing in the quiet kitchen. You remembered him telling you that the angled cut would help the flowers drink better, and you did it now without thinking. The thought of him lingered in your mind as you worked, a smile playing on your lips.

The bouquet was finally settled in the vase, its elegant white petals standing out against the cool glass. You stepped back, admiring the flowers, but it was Spencer’s presence in the room that made everything feel just a little bit brighter.

“Much better. Thank you, Spence,” you said, your voice soft with appreciation as you glanced at the flowers on the kitchen counter. Their vibrant white petals stood out against the cool, clear glass of the vase, the room suddenly feeling a little warmer, a little brighter. You grabbed your bag from the chair, the familiar weight of it grounding you. You turned to face him, your nerves still fluttering, but your excitement growing as the moment approached.

“You ready?” you asked, your voice light but with an undercurrent of anticipation.

Spencer hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor for a split second. He wasn’t sure if he was ever truly ready, especially not when it came to dates. His stomach twisted in knots, but that nervous energy was overshadowed by the excitement of being with you, of sharing a moment like this.

“Yeah, absolutely,” he replied, a nervous but genuine smile tugging at his lips.

With that, they were out the door, stepping into the crisp air of Washington. The city felt alive around them, the hum of the streets, the distant chatter of people, the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. They strolled side by side, both holding their coffee cups, yours an iced concoction with a splash of cream, his steaming hot with a swirl of cinnamon. He wasn’t usually one for aimless wandering, but as he looked over at you, he realized that this moment was worth it.

Your face, illuminated by the golden afternoon sun, was pure contentment. Your eyes sparkled as they took in the world around you, lighting up at every little thing. Whether it was a street performer, a stray cat lazily sunning itself, or the way the city skyline framed the horizon, you had a way of making the mundane seem magical. And he, well, he would do anything to keep seeing that smile on your face, to be the reason your eyes shone with that infectious joy.

As they passed a little street corner, your gaze drifted across the road, and your eyes lit up once again. There, nestled between a café and a bookstore, was a small record store with a neon sign flashing softly in the window.

“Can we go in?” you asked, your voice filled with excitement, your fingers already tugging gently at his sleeve.

Spencer followed your gaze, his heart doing a little flip at the eagerness in your voice. You had that effect on him—the way you made even the simplest moments feel special. “Of course,” he said with a smile, his voice soft but sincere. ��Lead the way.”

And just like that, they crossed the street together, the world outside fading into the background as they stepped into the warmth of the record store. The air smelled faintly of old vinyl and coffee, and the soft hum of music played in the background, creating the perfect atmosphere for them to lose themselves in.

“Smell that?” you asked, your nose lifting to the air as you inhaled deeply, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “That’s the smell of the best way to listen to music.” The scent of aged vinyl, dust, and nostalgia filled the space, wrapping around them like a cozy blanket. You laughed at yourself, a light, airy sound that seemed to match the atmosphere of the record store perfectly. Spencer couldn’t help but join in, his laugh a little quieter but no less genuine, his eyes softening as he watched you.

“You spend too much time with Rossi,” Spencer teased, his fingers flicking through the rows of records, his gaze scanning the colourful covers. He was looking for something—anything—that caught his attention, but his mind was more on the way you lit up in places like this, surrounded by things you loved.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offence as you met his gaze, your hand pausing mid-air over a stack of albums. “I am offended by your words, Dr. Reid,” you replied, your tone playful, your eyes sparkling with a teasing edge.

Spencer smiled, the edges of his mouth curling up into something warmer as he continued flipping through the records, pretending to be serious. “You should be. That’s a direct quote from Rossi himself,” he said, holding up a record sleeve and giving it a quick glance before setting it back down.

Your laugh filled the space again, bright and free. You pulled another record from the shelf, this one with a faded cover you recognised from years ago. “Well, if I spend too much time with Rossi, then I guess I’m doomed to become a vinyl snob,” you joked, flipping the record over to check the tracklist. You ran your fingers over the edges of the sleeve, feeling the familiar grooves of the cover, the little imperfections that only came with time.

You glanced over at Spencer, watching him for a moment as he flipped through his own stack. There was something so easy about being with him here, in this small, dimly lit shop filled with memories and melodies. “I mean, how else are you supposed to listen to music?” you asked, raising an eyebrow dramatically as you glanced down at the album in your hands. Then, with a theatrical flair, you placed your free hand on your hip and tilted your head back, doing your best (and rather exaggerated) impersonation of Rossi. “It’s the only way to really appreciate it. The crackle, the warmth… it’s like you can feel the music,” you said, making a show of puffing out an imaginary cigar and letting the smoke trail into the air.

Spencer’s laughter was immediate, loud, and genuine, as he looked over at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh my God,” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are way too good at that.”

You grinned, clearly pleased with yourself. “I’ve been practicing,” you said, striking a mock pose, your hand still poised as if holding the cigar, before you finally broke into another fit of laughter. Spencer couldn’t help but join you, his smile wide and full of affection. “Rossi would be proud,” he teased, his voice light, but there was a fondness in the way he looked at you.

You winked, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, if I’m ever in need of a new career, I think I’ve got this down.”

By the time you reached the end of your long search through the endless rows of records, you had carefully chosen a couple you were willing to splurge on. Cradling the records against your chest, you joined the line at the register, the buzz of the store humming around you.

When your turn came, you placed the records on the counter, chatting casually with the cashier as you fied through your bag for your wallet. Your voice was light, a touch distracted as your fingers rifled through your belongings.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had stepped closer, the faintest hint of a mischievous smile on his lips. Without a word, he slipped his card onto the reader. The machine beeped, signalling the completed transaction just as you finally found your wallet and looked up.

Confused, your gaze darted between the cashier and Spencer, who was already sliding his card back into his wallet with an air of nonchalance.

“Spencer!” you gasped, stepping out of line with him as they headed toward the exit. You gave him that look—the one that said he didn’t have to do what he just did. Your lips parted to speak, but he beat you to it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said softly, your voice laced with both gratitude and protest. Your hazel eyes darted to the floor for a moment before flicking back to him, catching the warm, self-assured look in his own. You didn’t like people spending money on you when you had plenty of your own. The records weren’t cheap, either.

Spencer, however, shrugged it off with a quiet confidence that surprised even himself. “I wanted to,” he replied simply. His voice was calm but firm, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a gentle smile. “I asked you to come out with me, didn’t I?”

You sighed, your protest melting into a small, affectionate smile as they stepped out into the crisp air. It was such a Spencer thing to do—thoughtful and kind, but completely unnecessary. Yet, as they walked side by side, you couldn’t deny the warmth his gesture left in your chest.

You glanced up at him, your eyes twinkling with a playful edge as you broke the silence. “You’re lucky I agreed,” you teased, a grin tugging at your lips.

Spencer chuckled softly, glancing down at you. “Oh, I know,” he said, his voice low but filled with humor. “Trust me, I’m very lucky.”

They continued to walk aimlessly, the crisp evening air brushing against their faces as they strolled. Spencer was mid-thought, caught up in some internal musing when your voice broke through.

“Oh my God, Chinatown, Spencer!” you exclaimed, your voice brimming with excitement, like a child spotting a candy store.

Your eyes lit up as they landed on the colourful archway marking the entrance to Chinatown. You couldn’t quite explain it, but Chinatowns had always been your favourite places to visit. Maybe it was the vibrant atmosphere, the intricate details of the buildings, or the way everyone seemed to know one another, creating a sense of community that felt warm and welcoming. You loved every bit of it.

Without realizing it, you grabbed Spencer’s hand and tugged him along with you, your excitement bubbling over. Your grip was firm but warm, and Spencer—despite the suddenness—didn’t resist. In fact, he found himself smiling as you led him toward the bustling street.

Your face glowed brighter than he’d ever seen as you took in the sight of the ornately decorated gate ahead, its vivid reds and golds shining under the string lights that crisscrossed above the street. He didn’t know if it was your enthusiasm or the way your joy seemed to radiate outward, but he was utterly mesmerized, trailing behind you like he was under a spell.

“We should get noodles—if you’re okay with that?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Spencer blinked, realizing he’d been staring at you with a soft, almost dreamy expression. The way you looked at him then—like he was the best person in the world just for being here with you—made his heart skip.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, his voice steady but his heart racing. Without thinking, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

Your cheeks flushed at the small gesture, and Spencer caught the faintest flicker of a smile as they continued walking hand in hand. The streets were alive with energy, from the scent of freshly steamed buns wafting from carts to the hum of chatter in the air.

Eventually, they stumbled upon a quaint bakery that led to an underground noodle bar tucked just below it. The combination was irresistible. As they waited for a table, your eyes lit up when you spotted cheese-filled mooncakes in the bakery display.

“I have to try one of these,” you said eagerly, placing your order while Spencer watched you with quiet amusement.

Moments later, you held the warm pastry in your hands, your face glowing with anticipation. “This is going to be the best cheese pull you’ve ever seen,” you declared, laughing with a childlike excitement that made Spencer’s chest tighten.

You took a bite, and as you pulled back, the melted cheese stretched from your mouth to the mooncake, just as you had promised. Your eyes widened with delight, and your laughter rang out, light and contagious.

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh too, shaking his head in amazement. You were like a child in the best possible way, unguarded and full of joy.

“You were right,” he said, still chuckling. “That’s definitely the best cheese pull I’ve ever seen.”

Your grin widened, and for a moment, Spencer forgot about the bustling streets around them. All he could see was your—glowing, carefree, and absolutely captivating.

The waiter called out, “Sī bīn sài Ruì dé?” his tone polite and slightly accented as he scanned the small crowd in the restaurant’s waiting area. Spencer Reid’s head lifted, recognizing the sound of his name rendered in Mandarin. He gave a small, sheepish smile, adjusting his scarf as he turned to look at you.

You arched an amused brow, gesturing toward the waiter with a tilt of your head. “That’s you, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer nodded, his hand lightly brushing against your lower back as he led the way down the narrow staircase into the cozy, warmly lit restaurant below. The rich scent of soy sauce, garlic, and sesame oil wafted through the air, mingling with the quiet murmur of diners enjoying their meals.

The waiter guided them to a private booth tucked into the corner of the room, its dark wooden walls offering a sense of intimacy. Spencer gestured for you to slide in first, always the gentleman, before settling across from you.

The two opened their menus, the glossy pages filled with enticing photos and descriptions of diyous written in both Mandarin and English. Spencer scanned the list with the precision of someone cataloging data, while you took a more casual approach, letting your eyes linger on the pictures.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Spencer asked, glancing up at you. His hazel eyes held a mix of curiosity and hesitation, likely calculating the probabilities of making the wrong choice in an unfamiliar culinary landscape.

You smiled, leaning slightly over the menu to point at the dishes you had your eye on. “I was thinking Beef Noodle Soup and maybe a fried rice platter. If you wanted to share?”

Your suggestion was casual, but you knew Spencer well enough to recognise that sharing food might not be his first choice. The germaphobic tendencies you’d seen surface in the past made your offer feel like a gamble. If he declined, you’d simply adjust your order—no harm, no foul.

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, his fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the menu. “Sharing…” he began, his tone thoughtful. “It’s not usually my preference, but—” He paused, studying your face as though weighing the pros and cons of stepping out of his comfort zone. “I think I could make an exception. Just… no double-dipping,” he added with a faint smile, his attempt at humour not lost on you.

You chuckled softly, your shoulders relaxing. “Deal. I’ll even promise to use the serving spoon if it helps.”

His smile widened, the corners of his mouth quirking upward in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “That would be appreciated.”

As the waiter returned to take their order, Spencer let you take the lead, quietly observing your interactions. The way you spoke with ease, your smile lighting up the space between them, was something he never grew tired of.

After the waiter left, the two settled into conversation, the hum of the restaurant serving as a comforting backdrop. You caught him glancing at you from time to time, his expression soft and unguarded.

“Two Beef Noodle Soup and fried rice,” he mused after a moment. “Good choices. Did you know Beef Noodle Soup is considered a national dish in Taiwan? There’s even an annual festival where chefs compete to create the best version of it.”

Your eyes sparkled with interest. “I didn’t know that. How do you even know things like that off the top of your head?”

Spencer shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I read a lot.”

You laughed, leaning forward slightly. “Of course you do. But that’s one of the things I love about you, you know. You always have the most random, fascinating facts tucked away in that big brain of yours.”

His blush deepened, and he ducked his head slightly, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “I’m glad you think so,” he murmured.

Their food arrived not long after, the diyous steaming and fragrant, the aroma instantly making your stomach rumble. You reached for your chopsticks, but before you could start serving yourself, Spencer gently took the plate from your side.

“Allow me,” he said, his tone soft but resolute, as though he had been planning this move.

You blinked in surprise, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Wow, chivalry isn’t dead after all. I was starting to wonder.”

Spencer shot you a mock-offended look as he carefully portioned out some of the sizzling stir-fry onto your plate. “Hey, I can be chivalrous. I just… don’t get much practice. Sharing food isn’t exactly in my top five skills.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “You don’t say. Should I feel honoured or concerned?”

“Definitely honoured,” he replied, finishing your plate with an exaggerated flourish. “This is a rare occurrence. Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Oh, I’m definitely documenting this,” you teased, pulling out your phone and snapping a quick photo of him mid-serve. “The great Dr. Spencer Reid, putting others first. What’s next, you’re going to offer me the last bite?”

Spencer smirked as he served himself. “Let’s not get carried away.”

As they began eating, you picked up a particularly long noodle with your chopsticks and dangled it in front of your face. “Do you think this could double as a jump rope for ants?”

Spencer nearly choked on his bite of rice, laughing. “That is… an incredibly specific visual. Why ants? Why not, I don’t know, mice?”

“Too predictable,” you replied, twirling the noodle like you were considering its durability. “Ants have more finesse. They’d appreciate the artistry.”

“Ah, yes, the ant gymnast community,” Spencer said, adjusting his glasses and leaning forward as though about to deliver a lecture. “You know, ants can actually carry up to fifty times their body weight, so a noodle would be the perfect workout tool.”

You grinned, using your chopsticks to make the noodles “jump” across your plate. “You’re making my case for me. Ant Olympics, here we come.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Thank you,” you said brightly, slurping the noodle up with a playful flourish.

Spencer raised an eyebrow and then, without a word, picked up a dumpling with his chopsticks and held it in front of his mouth. He narrowed his eyes, suddenly serious. “If I were an ant, this would be like carrying a wrecking ball.”

You burst out laughing, nearly dropping your chopsticks. “You’re so weird!”

“Only because you bring it out of me,” he replied, popping the dumpling into his mouth with a small, triumphant smile.

They continued their meal, each taking turns to make the other laugh with increasingly absurd food-related jokes. Spencer even attempted to balance a broccoli floret on his nose, which ended with you snorting and him losing the floret mid-laugh.

By the time they finished, your sides ached from laughing, and Spencer looked more relaxed than you’d seen him in weeks. As he reached for the bill, you caught his hand and grinned.

“See? Sharing isn’t so bad,” you teased.

He smiled back, his eyes warm. “Only with you.”

Once they left Chinatown, the streets of Washington, D.C. buzzed with life, but Spencer and you were lost in their own little world, laughing uncontrollably over the events of the day. Every inside joke and playful jab sent them spiraling into fits of laughter, their shared energy a bright spot in the bustling city. For Spencer, the date had already been perfect, but he wasn’t ready for it to end just yet. He had one last plan to cap off the evening, though it wouldn’t come into play for hours. Until then, he just needed to keep you distracted.

You nudged him playfully as they strolled along. “Alright, something you never got to do as a kid but always wanted to,” you said, your tone suddenly serious despite the twinkle of curiosity in your eyes.

Spencer hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile creeping across his face. “I don’t know,” he began, his voice soft. “I’ve always liked reading books and spending time with my mom.” He glanced at you, embarrassed by how ordinary his answer sounded.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grounding him. “That’s sweet, Spence,” you said softly. “But come on, there’s gotta be something.”

He exhaled a small laugh, his gaze shifting to the pavement as he admitted, “Well, I always wanted to play Laser Tag.”

You stopped in your tracks, your hazel eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait. You’ve never played Laser Tag?”

Spencer shrugged, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. “I mean, no, not really. It just never came up.”

You were already shaking your head in mock horror. “That’s unacceptable. We’re fixing this right now.”

“It’s fine. We don’t have to—”

But you were already tugging him along with determined speed. “Nope. This is happening. You’re about to experience the childhood you missed out on, and it’s going to be amazing.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm, your energy was contagious. Before he knew it, they were standing at the counter of a nearby arcade, you grinning ear to ear as you requested two tickets for Laser Tag.

Spencer tried one last time to protest. “Really, you don’t have to do this—”

“Consider it my treat,” you interrupted, handing over your card to the cashier. “A thank-you for the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

The sincerity in your voice silenced his objections, and he felt his heart swell. As the cashier handed them their gear, you turned to him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Alright, Dr. Reid,” you teased, strapping on your vest. “Let’s see if all that genius-level intellect helps you out on the battlefield.”

Spencer laughed, shaking his head. “You’re going to regret this. I may not have played before, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to win.”

“Bold of you to assume,” you shot back with a smirk, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the arena.

As they stepped into the dimly lit room filled with neon lights and fog machines, Spencer felt an unexpected rush of excitement. You turned to him, your face illuminated by the glowing lights, and he couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he’d been missing out, but with you by his side, he was more than ready to make up for lost time.

The neon lights flickered, casting an otherworldly glow over the Laser Tag arena. Fog swirled around Spencer and you as they ducked behind barriers and navigated the maze-like layout. The sound of distant footsteps and laser beams zipping through the air made it feel like they’d stepped into a sci-fi movie.

Spencer crouched low, trying to strategize his next move, but your sudden battle cry made him jump. You darted out from behind a glowing pillar, your laughter echoing through the arena as you fired your laser, landing a direct hit on his vest.

“Gotcha!” you shouted triumphantly, your grin wide and uncontainable.

Spencer stumbled back in mock defeat, his hands raised. “Okay, okay, truce! I’m still learning!”

You rolled your eyes, playfully wagging a finger at him. “No mercy, Reid. You’re my bitch now.”

You turned to sprint away, but Spencer surprised you by diving behind a barrier and quickly firing back. The red lights on your vest lit up, signalling a hit.

“Ha! Who’s the genius now?” he teased, standing up with a victorious smirk.

You clutched your chest dramatically, pretending to be mortally wounded. “Betrayed… by my own date!” you gasped, collapsing onto a nearby barrier.

Spencer burst into laughter, his usually reserved demeanor completely melting away. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head as he helped your back up.

“And you love it,” you quipped, sticking your tongue out before taking off into the maze again.

The game continued, a back-and-forth of sneak attacks, exaggerated reactions, and endless laughter. Every hit was met with playful banter, and every moment felt like peeling back the layers of their guarded hearts. Spencer, who had always been so serious and calculated, found himself letting go, caught up in the pure, childlike joy of the moment.

At one point, they both ended up crouched behind the same barrier, breathless and laughing so hard their sides hurt. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your face flushed from running. “Okay, I admit it,” you said between giggles. “You’re pretty good for a first-timer.”

Spencer glanced at you, his hazel eyes sparkling in the dim light. “I had a good teacher,” he replied softly.

For a moment, the chaos around them faded. They were just two people, sitting side by side, finding solace in each other’s company.

You nudged him gently. “See? Childhood dream fulfilled. What’s next on your list?”

He chuckled, his gaze dropping to the glowing floor. “Honestly? I think this might be enough for one night.”

“Enough?” you teased. “We’ve barely scratched the surface! Next time, we’re doing bumper cars.”

Spencer laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I think I’m going to need a lot of next times with you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your expression softened, and you reached out to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Then we’ll make that happen,” you promised.

As the game timer buzzed, signalling the end of their session, Spencer and you made their way out of the arena, still laughing and teasing each other. A leaderboard lit up on the screen near the exit, and Spencer froze, his eyes widening.

“No way,” he murmured, stepping closer to the display.

You leaned over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. Your jaw dropped when you saw his name at the top of the list. “You won?!” you exclaimed, grabbing his arm and shaking it excitedly. “Spencer Reid, first-time Laser Tag champion! I’m so proud of you!”

He turned to you, his grin almost bashful but undeniably proud. “Beginner’s luck, maybe?”

“Absolutely not,” you said, your face lighting up with genuine excitement. “You crushed it out there! I mean, I’m a little salty that you beat me, but still—you’re officially a Laser Tag legend.”

Spencer laughed, the sound bubbling out of him with pure joy. “A legend, huh? I’ll take it.”

You playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “You better. This is a big deal! You’ve got bragging rights now.”

As they stepped out of the arcade into the cool night air, you looped your arm through his, your energy still electric. “Okay, next time we’re teaming up. Imagine what we could do together!”

Spencer looked down at you, his heart warm and full. “I think we’d be unstoppable,” he said, his voice soft but confident.

As they walked down the busy streets, still laughing and recounting the best moments of the game, Spencer couldn’t help but feel like he’d won more than just Laser Tag. With you by his side, he’d found something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing—a piece of joy, of freedom, of connection that made him feel whole again.

As they continued down the lively streets of D.C., Spencer’s smile lingered, a quiet sense of contentment radiating from him. You were still buzzing from the Laser Tag victory, your hand resting comfortably in his as they walked.

“Alright, Dr. Reid,” you said playfully, looking up at him. “What’s next on this magical mystery tour of a date? Because if it’s as fun as Laser Tag, I might actually burst from happiness.”

Spencer chuckled, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. “Well,” he began, his voice soft but teasing, “I do have one more thing planned. But it’s a surprise.”

Your eyes widened with curiosity. “A surprise? Spencer Reid, you’re full of secrets tonight. What is it?”

He shook his head, his lips curving into a sly smile. “You’ll see. Just trust me.”

“Always,” you said with a grin, letting him guide you down a quieter street.

The hum of the city faded as they walked, replaced by a peaceful stillness. You tilted your head, trying to guess where he was taking you, but Spencer kept quiet, his excitement barely contained. Finally, they rounded a corner, and your breath caught as the grand façade of the National Gallery of Art came into view, illuminated beautifully against the night sky.

“Spencer,” you whispered, awe in your voice. “The art museum? It’s closed right now.”

He smiled, his fingers lacing tighter with yours. “Not for us.”

As if on cue, a side door to the museum opened, and a man in his mid-thirties stepped out, waving at Spencer.

“Dr. Reid!” the man called warmly. “Right on time.”

“Thanks, Jacob,” Spencer said, his voice full of gratitude. He turned to you, his expression soft. “Jacob’s a curator here. He agreed to stay late and let us in. Just us.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked between Spencer and Jacob. “You’re kidding. We get the whole museum to ourselves?”

Spencer nodded, his heart fluttering at the pure joy on your face. “I thought you might like it. I know how much you love art, and, well… I wanted to do something special for you.”

You blinked back a sudden wave of emotion, your chest tightening with affection. “Spencer, this is… this is incredible. Thank you.”

He smiled, a little shyly. “You’re worth it.”

Jacob opened the door wider, gesturing them inside. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

As they stepped into the museum, the quiet echoed around them, amplifying the beauty of the vast, empty halls. The dim lighting highlighted the paintings and sculptures, making it feel like they’d stepped into another world.

You turned to Spencer, your eyes shining. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

He ducked his head, his cheeks tinged pink. “I just wanted to give you something memorable. Something… magical.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “You’ve done more than that, Spence. This is perfect.”

He smiled, his heart swelling at your words. “Come on,” he said softly, leading you toward the first exhibit. “Let’s explore.”

And together, hand in hand, they wandered through the museum, the art and the quiet intimacy of the moment weaving a memory neither of them would ever forget.

The museum was humour, the kind of quiet that invited reverence and reflection. Their footsteps echoed faintly as they moved through the halls, pausing here and there to admire a painting or sculpture. Spencer’s hand lingered at your lower back, a subtle gesture to guide you but also to stay close, as if the intimacy of the space demanded it.

They came to a room filled with sculptures, the soft lighting casting long shadows that danced on the walls. Your attention was immediately drawn to a particular piece—a sculpture of two women, one older, one younger, the younger standing on the shoulders of the older as if reaching for something just out of sight.

You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching slightly. Spencer noticed your stillness and took a step back, letting your take in the piece without interruption. Your expression shifted, your usual brightness giving way to something quieter, deeper.

After a few moments, he couldn’t help but break the silence, his voice soft so as not to disturb the moment. “How does it make you feel?”

You didn’t turn to him right away. Your eyes remained fixed on the sculpture, your hands loosely clasped in front of you. When you finally spoke, your voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of your thoughts.

“Seen,” you said simply, then paused as if to find the right words. “In a weird way. I don’t think I’d be who I am without my mother, and this piece proves it in a way. It makes me feel less alone too, like I’m not the only one who sees myself this way.”

Spencer tilted his head, his gaze flickering between you and the sculpture. He could see it now—the younger woman’s outstretched hands, the older one’s steadying stance. The balance between them spoke volumes about trust, sacrifice, and love.

“You feel like you’re standing on your shoulders,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You nodded, finally glancing at him. “Yeah. Every step I’ve taken has been because you let me stand on your foundation. Even when things weren’t perfect, you were still there, holding me up.” You smiled faintly, a bittersweet curve of your lips. “It’s nice to see it represented like this, you know? It’s like… someone else understands.”

Spencer took a small step closer, his voice gentle. “You’d be proud of you. I don’t think anyone could look at what you’ve built for yourself and feel anything less.”

You turned fully to face him now, your hazel eyes soft but shining. “Thank you, Spence. That means a lot.”

He gave you a small smile, his hands in his pockets as he glanced back at the sculpture. “It’s beautiful. Just like the way you see the world.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re such a charmer, you know that?”

“Not really,” he admitted with a small chuckle, “but I mean it.”

For a while longer, they stayed there, side by side, letting the sculpture’s quiet power wash over them. In that moment, it wasn’t just art—it was a connection, a shared understanding that went deeper.

The weight of the moment lifted as they moved on, wandering into another section of the museum. The air between them felt lighter now, a quiet understanding still lingering but giving way to the playful energy they always seemed to share.

It started with a chuckle from you, your hand covering your mouth as you stopped in front of a sculpture of a stern-looking man with an exaggeratedly large nose. “Okay, tell me that doesn’t look like Hotch when he’s annoyed,” you whispered, your eyes sparkling mischievously.

Spencer glanced at the sculpture and bit back a laugh. “It’s the eyebrows,” he said, nodding in agreement.

You gasped, pointing. “The eyebrows! Yes! It’s like he’s about to say, ‘Reid, stop overexplaining.’"

Spencer laughed, his face lighting up in a way that made your heart skip. “Okay, okay, but look at this one,” he said, leading you to a nearby bust of a man whose face was frozen in a hilariously exaggerated scowl. “Tell me that’s not Rossi after someone forgets to bring him coffee.”

You burst out laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. “Oh my God, it’s perfect!” you managed between giggles.

They moved from sculpture to sculpture, pointing out ridiculous expressions and coming up with stories for each one. Spencer, ever the genius, concocted elaborate backstories for the pieces, each one more absurd than the last.

“This one,” he said, gesturing to a marble figure of a man dramatically clutching his chest, “was probably just told that his favorite gelato shop ran out of pistachio.”

You doubled over laughing, your cheeks aching from smiling so much. “Stop, you’re going to get us kicked out!” you said, though your laughter made it clear you didn’t mean it.

“You’re the one who started it,” he teased, his grin wide and unrestrained.

They rounded a corner and found themselves in front of a statue of a cherub with a particularly mischievous expression. Spencer tilted his head. “This one’s definitely plotting something. Probably planning to steal cookies from the other cherubs.”

You wiped a tear from your eyes, still laughing. “You’re too good at this. Have you been secretly practicing?”

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

As they continued exploring, their laughter echoed softly through the empty halls, their joy filling the quiet space. For a little while, they let themselves be kids again—carefree, silly, and completely immersed in the moment.

Spencer, usually so reserved and composed, felt freer than he had in years. And you, watching him let loose, felt your heart swell with happiness. It wasn’t just about the art or the laughter—it was about being together, sharing a moment that was uniquely theirs.

When they finally paused to catch their breath, leaning against a wall in between fits of giggles, Spencer looked at you with a soft smile. “This might be the most fun I’ve ever had in a museum.”

You grinned, your eyes shining. “I told you, you just needed the right partner in crime.”

He nodded, his expression warm. “I think I found them.”

And with that, they set off again, hand in hand, ready to see what other treasures—and laughs—the museum had to offer.

As they wandered back toward the grand central hall of the museum, the playful energy between them began to settle into something softer, quieter. The warm lighting of the space casts a golden glow over the room, highlighting the details of the sculptures and paintings around them. You paused by a large marble statue of a couple intertwined in an eternal embrace, your gaze lingering on the delicate way the sculptor had captured the curve of their hands and the tilt of their heads.

Spencer stopped beside you, his eyes following yours to the statue. He said nothing, but the air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken thoughts. The laughter from earlier seemed to hang in the distance, replaced by a gentle stillness.

You turned your head to look at him, your expression soft, your lips parted slightly as if you wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Spencer’s gaze flickered from the statue to you, his heart stuttering as he caught the way the golden light played on your features.

Neityour of them spoke. They didn’t need to.

Spencer’s hand reached out, slow and hesitant, his fingertips brushing against yours. The touch was featyour-light, but it sent a ripple through both of them, grounding them in the moment.

Your eyes searched his, questioning, yet trusting. He took a step closer, the space between them shrinking until it was almost nonexistent.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as his face hovered close to yours. The world around them seemed to blur, the art and the quiet fading into the background as the only thing that mattered was him—his eyes, his presence, the warmth of him so close.

Spencer hesitated, his gaze flicking to your lips and back to your eyes, as if silently asking for permission. You gave him the faintest nod, your lips curving into a soft, encouraging smile.

It was painfully slow, the kind of moment that stretched on forever, but neither of them rushed it. Their foreheads brushed first, a tentative, intimate touch that sent shivers down your spine. His nose bumped yours lightly, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

And then, finally, achingly, his lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, and unhurried, a perfect balance of tenderness and curiosity. His hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing your skin as if you were something fragile, something to be cherished You leaned into him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself as your heart soared.

Time seemed to stop entirely. There was no overthinking, no second-guessing—just the quiet certainty that this was exactly where they were meant to be.

When they finally pulled back, their faces still close, neither of them spoke right away. Spencer’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

You smiled softly, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand. “That felt… right,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Spencer nodded, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “It did,” he agreed, his voice equally quiet.

And as they stood there, bathed in the golden light of the museum, they both knew they’d just shared a moment they’d carry with them forever.

Hand in hand, they made their way back toward the main entrance of the museum, their fingers still entwined as they shared quiet smiles and the lingering warmth of the kiss. The halls, now empty of their playful laughter, seemed to hum with the remnants of the night’s magic, a soft kind of peace wrapping around them.

When they reached the front, they were met by Jacob, who was standing by the gift shop, a welcoming grin on his face.

“Did you two enjoy the private tour?” he asked, clearly amused by the soft glow in their expressions.

“It was perfect,” You replied, your voice light with contentment. “We couldn’t have asked for a better night.”

Spencer gave Jacob a small nod of thanks, and they made their way toward the gift shop. Of course, you, ever the curious soul, immediately started scanning the shelves, your eyes lighting up as you spotted a section of artist books and unique prints.

Spencer stood back a little, letting you take it all in. It was clear from the way you were absorbed in the display that you were in your element. Your fingers traced the spines of the books, your eyes lingering on the vibrant art, the words, and the stories behind them. It was a rare thing to see you so lost in admiration, and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, appreciating the way you connected with the world through art.

You picked up one of the books, flipping it open to the first page. “Spence,” you called softly, turning to him with a gentle smile. “Which artist was it who made that sculpture of the two women?”

Spencer walked over to you, his gaze following yours to the shelf where the artist’s work was displayed. He didn’t need to think twice. “Julie Rrap,” he replied.

You nodded, your fingers brushing the cover of the book titled Body Double. You seemed almost hesitant at first, as if deciding whether or not to pick it up. But then, with a quiet sense of reverence, you carefully opened the book and placed it in your hands, holding it close to your chest for a moment before glancing back at Spencer.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude. There was something in your eyes—something that said this moment meant more to you than you could express.

Spencer smiled warmly, his heart swelling a little. “I’m glad you like it.”

You ran your thumb along the edges of the book, your gaze still soft as you flipped through the pages, your eyes drinking in the art and the words. It was as if the world had slowed down again, and they were both wrapped in the quiet, intimate moment of shared appreciation.

“I think I’m going to get this,” you said, your voice thoughtful, almost to yourself. “It’s… I don’t know. It feels important.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze still on you as you carefully placed the book in your arms, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It’s yours. You deserve it.”

Spencer reached into his pocket as they approached the counter, his hand finding yours once more, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He placed the book and a few other items you had picked out onto the counter. Jacob, who had been standing nearby, gave them both a knowing smile as he rang up the items.

“You two seem like you had a good time,” Jacob said, his tone light and friendly.

Spencer smiled, pulling out his wallet. “It was a perfect night, thanks to you.”

You turned to Jacob with a grateful expression, your eyes bright. “Thank you for letting us stay after hours. It really made the evening special.”

Jacob nodded, giving you a small wink. “Anytime. Glad you enjoyed it. You two have a good rest of the night.”

After Spencer finished paying, he gathered the items and handed them to you, who accepted them with a soft smile. “Thanks again,” you said, your voice warm.

With a final wave to Jacob, they left the gift shop and stepped into the cool night air. The city was quieter now, the streets bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. As they walked toward Spencer’s apartment, the evening felt like a perfect bookend to a day full of laughter, art, and unexpected moments of connection.

Spencer, his arm casually draped over your shoulder, pulled you closer as they walked. “So, what do you think? A quiet night in to wrap things up?” he asked, a playful note in his voice.

You smiled, your eyes glinting with excitement. “Sounds perfect.”

They continued down the sidewalk, their footsteps in sync, the world around them fading away as they looked forward to whatever came next—together.

thank you for reading!

please like & reblog if you enjoyed!

part two!

masterlist!

[benispunk]

If I Had The Chance

logan howlett x reader

One teeny-tiny silly question lead into something a tad bit bigger for Logan.

TW: nothing, this is pure fluff, just a draft I had for months and never actually posted. this is honestly so silly I was giggling while writing it. not proofed read.

Masterlist

The mansion was alive with music and chatter, students and teachers alike enjoying the end-of-school celebration. The air was filled with a mixture of excitement and relief, the pressure of the school year behind them. Logan and Y/N stood near the edge of the crowd, out of the spotlight but close enough to feel part of the celebration. Logan had a bottle hidden behind his back, and every now and then, he passed it to Y/N when no one was looking.

“Careful,” Y/N whispered with a grin as she took a sip. “We’re not supposed to have this here, remember?”

Logan’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Since when do we follow the rules?”

She laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the drink settle in her chest. They had always been close, sharing inside jokes and stolen moments like this, but lately, there had been something more—something unspoken hanging between them. The others had noticed too, often teasing them about their connection.

“So,” Y/N said suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Out of all of us here... if you had to, who would you marry?”

Logan turned to her, raising a brow at the unexpected question. “What kinda question is that?”

She shrugged, trying to keep her tone casual. “I don’t know. Just something stupid. Who would you pick?”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s a dumb question.”

“Oh, come on! It’s just for fun. Who would it be?” Y/N pressed, enjoying the way Logan was avoiding her question. She could see the slight smirk forming on his lips.

“Marry? No one,” he replied gruffly, looking away as if to change the subject. “We’re not talking about this.”

Y/N crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Would you have preferred the ‘who would you sleep with’ question?”

Logan glanced at her from the corner of his eye but remained silent. His silence only made Y/N more determined, a playful grin creeping onto her face.

“Well, if I had the chance to marry someone here,” Y/N said, feigning thoughtfulness before pointing her finger at him. “It would definitely be you.”

Logan stopped mid-swig and turned to her, eyes narrowing slightly. “If you had to?” he repeated, emphasizing her words with a teasing tone. “Or if you had the chance?”

Y/N’s face immediately turned bright red as she realized her mistake. “Uh... well... I mean—”

He leaned a little closer, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “’Cause there’s a difference, darlin’. One’s a duty, the other’s a choice.”

Y/N stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “I... I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant... you know... hypothetically!”

Logan chuckled deeply, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Sure you did.”

She rolled her eyes, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just watched her for a moment with that infuriating smirk. Finally, after letting her squirm long enough, he leaned back against the wall and, almost casually, said, “Well, if I had the chance, I’d marry you too.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, caught completely off guard by his sudden admission. She opened her mouth to say something but found herself utterly speechless.

Logan gave her a wink, his tone light but sincere. “Guess that makes us even.”

And just like that, he handed her the bottle and turned back to watch the party, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart racing and a million thoughts running through her mind.

The party continued around them, but all Y/N could focus on was the warmth spreading through her chest—though this time, it wasn’t from the booze.

———

As the night grew late, the energy in the mansion started to wind down. Groups of students headed off to bed or continued chatting in smaller circles, while the music softened to a quieter background hum. Y/N found herself lingering near Logan, their playful exchange still buzzing in her mind.

They hadn’t said anything more about the marriage comment, and Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that Logan had left her hanging on purpose, just to mess with her. Typical.

She looked over at him, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, looking effortlessly cool. She could still feel the warmth from his earlier words, and it bugged her that she had no clever comeback ready.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “you’re just gonna drop that line and leave it like that?”

Logan glanced at her sideways, a teasing grin already forming. “What line?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on her. “You were the one to ask the question.”

“Right,” Y/N said, “and you sounded pretty serious for a silly question.”

Logan turned his head slightly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Was it a silly question?”

The way he said it made her pause, caught off guard. She hadn’t been expecting him to flip it on her like that.

“Well, yeah,” she said, though her voice wavered slightly. “I was joking around.”

“Were you?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with curiosity.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. Was he serious? The playful energy from earlier had shifted, and suddenly, she found herself standing closer to him than she had realized. She could see the faint lines around his eyes, the roughness of his skin, and the way he was watching her now—intensely.

“You know, you can’t just say things like that and then pretend it’s no big deal,” she said softly, her voice losing some of its teasing edge.

Logan’s smirk faded into something softer, more thoughtful. “Maybe it is a big deal,” he said quietly. His voice was low, the roughness in his tone giving away more than he intended.

Y/N blinked, her breath catching in her throat. Was this really happening? She wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get stuck.

Logan took a small step toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. “You said you’d marry me too, remember? So don’t act like you’re off the hook.”

Y/N’s mouth opened, but all that came out was a nervous laugh. “Yeah, but I was just... I mean, it was hypothetical!”

“Hm,” Logan hummed, his eyes still locked on her. “Sounded pretty real to me.”

There was a tension in the air now, the kind that made her stomach flip. He was so close, and she could smell the faint scent of whiskey and cigar smoke on him, mixed with something uniquely Logan. It made her dizzy in the best way.

“I—” Y/N began, but the words were swallowed by the silence between them. For once, Logan wasn’t teasing. He was looking at her with that serious, guarded expression he wore when something actually mattered to him. 

“Logan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft background music. “Are you serious?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, just looked at her as if weighing his options. Then, with a soft grunt, he leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching hers.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” he murmured.

The world seemed to freeze for a second, the weight of his words settling between them like an invisible force. Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure if they were still teasing or if this was something more.

Before either of them could say anything else, someone called out from across the room, breaking the moment. They both pulled back, the spell broken, and Y/N could see a flicker of regret in Logan’s eyes before he turned away.

“Guess that’s our cue,” he muttered, giving her one last glance before heading toward the doorway. She watched him go, her chest tightening with unspoken words. But just as he reached the door, he turned back and met her gaze.

“’Night, Y/N.”

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. And then he was gone, leaving her standing there, her heart racing and her mind spinning.

———

The mansion was eerily quiet as the last of the partygoers trickled out, leaving only a few lights dimly flickering in the grand hallways. Y/N was still standing where Logan had left her, trying to shake off the flurry of emotions from their almost-moment.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, her thoughts still spinning around Logan’s words. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Was that real? Was she really about to believe him?

Unable to rest with so many unanswered questions, she slipped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. The night sky stretched out before her, cool and calming. For a moment, Y/N let herself breathe in the silence.

But it didn’t last long.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here.”

She jumped, startled, spinning around to find Logan leaning casually against the doorway, his arms crossed.

“You scared me,” she said, placing a hand over her chest.

He smirked. “Didn’t mean to.”

Logan stepped onto the balcony, the door clicking shut behind him as he joined her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. He leaned against the railing beside her, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Thinking about something?” he pressed, though his tone was casual.

Y/N hesitated, glancing sideways at him. She wanted to brush it off, but something in his expression made her stop.

“Maybe,” she said quietly.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Does it have to do with what I said earlier?”

She let out a small laugh, though it came out more nervous than amused. “What do you think?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead letting the silence stretch. Finally, he said, “You know I meant it, right?”

Her breath caught, and she turned to look at him fully. He was watching her now, his usual smirk replaced by something softer, more genuine.

“You’re really not going to let me play this off, are you?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“Not when it’s the truth,” Logan said simply.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, and she looked away, focusing on the stars instead. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be so… earnest.

“Logan…” she started, but her voice trailed off. She let out a shaky breath. “You know I was just joking.”

But even as she said it, the words felt hollow. She wasn’t joking, not really. She had thrown the question out there in a playful way, hoping to hide how much she had actually meant it.

Logan, however, wasn’t letting her off that easy.

“You were joking,” he echoed, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe her. “You sure about that?”

Y/N met his eyes, searching for the right words, but all she could find was the truth.

“No,” she admitted softly. “I wasn’t joking.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Logan’s expression softened, though the intensity in his eyes remained. The night air felt charged with something between them—something fragile, but real.

He took a step closer, closing the distance between them. “Why didn’t you just say that from the start?”

Y/N laughed, though it was more nervous than anything. “Because it’s you,” she said, exasperated. “You’re not exactly easy to talk to when it comes to… feelings.”

Logan smirked at that, the hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “Can’t argue with that.”

They stood there in silence for another beat, both aware of how close they were now. Y/N could feel the warmth radiating off him, could see the way his chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths.

“Look,” Logan said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “I’m not good at this…whatever…crap this is.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I meant what I said.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “About marrying me?”

Logan chuckled, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Yeah. Though I think we should date first, you know?”

Y/N huffed a laugh at that, looking up at him, not knowing what to say, yet.

Logan took another step toward her, his eyes softer now, less guarded than she’d ever seen them. “I ain’t exactly the marrying type,” he said gruffly, his hand coming up to gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “But if I were… yeah, it’d be you.”

Y/N could feel her cheeks heating up, her mind racing to catch up with everything he was saying. Before she could overthink it, she smiled—really smiled—and finally let herself relax.

“Well,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “lucky for you, if you had to marry someone and it was me…I’d say yes.”

Logan’s smirk grew wider, and for a brief moment, all the tension between them melted away. They weren’t just two people who’d been teasing each other all night. They were them—close, familiar, and something more.

Y/N felt a surge of confidence, emboldened by the way he was looking at her. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she couldn’t deny the pull between them anymore.

She took a step closer, standing just inches away now, her gaze never leaving his. “You know,” she said softly, “we could keep pretending, or…”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his signature smirk faltering ever so slightly as he realized where this was going.

“Or?” he prompted, his voice low.

“Or we could stop pretending,” Y/N finished, her voice steady despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with anticipation. Logan’s eyes searched hers, as if trying to figure out if she was serious.

Then, he let out a soft laugh, almost a huff, the corner of his mouth curling into an amused, knowing smile.

“Is that your way of saying I can kiss you?” he asked, his voice warm and teasing.

Y/N smiled back, her confidence growing. “Maybe it is.”

That was all the encouragement Logan needed. He closed the distance, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, but filled with all the unspoken things they hadn’t said. Y/N melted into him, her hands resting against his chest as the world seemed to fall away around them.

When they finally pulled back, Y/N was breathless, her heart racing as she met his gaze.

Logan looked down at her, his smirk returning but softer this time. “Well, I’d say that complicates things,” he murmured.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I think it makes things a lot simpler, actually.”

He grinned, and for the first time in a long time, Logan looked… happy. Really, genuinely happy.

“Yeah,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Maybe you’re right.”

They stood there on the balcony, wrapped up in the quiet night and each other, finally free of all the teasing and dancing around their feelings.

And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something neither of them had seen coming—but had wanted all along.

[heestoleurgirl]

park jay 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ in which your boyfriend finally returns from tour, you missed him so much (non-idol au)

genre: fluff pairing: rockstar bf!jay x fem!reader wc: 2.2k

consider this my proposal to @s1rawb3rry <3

masterlist 𖤐.ᐟ

You haven’t felt this excited in a while. Today was the day Jay would be coming home, you’d missed him so much and you were practically buzzing with nerves ever since you woke up. Of course, the two of you had texted every day while he was on tour, but it was never quite the same as seeing him in person. The photos of him made you smile while simultaneously causing your heart to ache slightly. 

You knew he’d be really exhausted so you took it upon yourself to spoil him today. The house was cleaned spotless, the old, dead flowers in the kitchen were replaced with fresh ones. To top it all off, you’d spent the majority of the day in the kitchen, cooking his favourite food. His meals hadn’t been the best while he was away, since his schedule was so tight and he didn’t have access to a proper kitchen for the most part.

All you had to do now was wait, which sounded easy enough in theory. It wasn’t that simple, especially when every minute felt like a painfully long hour. How could you have survived a month if you couldn’t even wait a few minutes? You tried to busy yourself with whatever useless task you came up with, like wiping the counter for the third time that day.

The faint click of the doorknob being turned grabbed your attention immediately, your body was instantly flooded with adrenaline. The damp cloth in your hand was discarded in the blink of an eye as you rushed to the front door. There he was, closing the door behind him with some difficulty since he had a few bags in his hands. You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt, and hurried to help him with his baggage.

જ⁀➴ more under the cut!

You didn’t care to be very gentle, practically taking the stuff from his hands and throwing them aside. Jay’s face lit up when he realized you were right there, it still felt a bit surreal to finally be with you again. Apart from his guitar case, all his things were carelessly shoved aside in an instant. He didn’t bother to take his leather jacket off, he opened his arms for you right away.

“Jay!” you exclaimed as you jumped into his arms, throwing yours around his neck and hugging him so tightly. His familiar scent filled your nose, which made your heart swell with affection even more if that was possible.

“I missed you so much baby.” Jay eagerly returned the hug, pulling you flush against his chest while his hands rested on your lower back. His exhaustion felt insignificant right now.

“I’m never letting you leave again.” You joked, giggling when he squeezed your waist in response.

“Nah, next time you’re coming with me. I need my biggest fan to support me in person.”

God, you’d missed his voice so much. It sounded even better when he wasn’t talking through the phone. The thought of joining him on tours sounded like a dream come true, you weren’t sure you’d be able to survive another month (or more) without him. 

You reluctantly pulled away, not taking your eyes off his handsome face that you missed so much. He smiled at you softly, similarly admiring your sparkly eyes and enjoying the way your hand moved to cup the side of his face with endless care. 

You stood on your tiptoes to be able to kiss him properly. Jay leaned down to meet your lips, kissing you with a deep sense of need and love. He missed your lips against his, the kiss made his mind go blank. Your heart beat faster at the contact you’d been daydreaming about for so long. Your lips moved together in a languid way, both of you savouring the feeling of each other. Though you wanted to hold onto him and kiss him for the rest of the night, you knew he was probably tired and hungry. So after a few minutes, you unwillingly detached your pink lips from his soft ones. 

“I made dinner, come on.” You grabbed his hand and made your way to the kitchen, where everything was already prepared neatly.

“Wow, darling… you didn’t have to.” He was astonished with your effort, and seeing that you did all this just for him made him feel like he was falling in love with you again. His dazed state was cut short as he felt you ushering him to sit down. The smile never left his face, you were so endearing when you were taking care of him like this. 

“Don’t say dumb things, of course I had to. You need to eat properly, especially after being so busy and overworked.” You took a seat next to him, wanting to be as close as possible because even his presence was incredibly soothing.

There was no point in arguing with you and Jay was well aware of that. Not that he didn’t like you looking after him, it was just an urge for him to make sure you never had to break a sweat for anything. He loved spoiling you too much.

“Thank you.” 

You smiled in response before the room fell into comfortable silence as you both started eating together. Jay was so glad to finally have a proper meal, especially his favourite food made by his favourite person.

“Love, this is so good. You’re an amazing cook.” He hummed, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste.

“Really? I tried a new recipe.” You responded while stabbing at the meat with your fork. “How was your trip home?”

Jay thought for a moment before telling you about his day. You listened intently, feeling happy that he was right next to you. You paid attention to his every word, but also took it as an opportunity to adore him at the same time. Even if it was something simple like having dinner with him and talking about each other’s day, the moment felt really special to you. That’s probably why you were grinning like an idiot.

“What-?” Jay raised an eyebrow in slight confusion as he met your eyes.

“Nothing, I just missed you so much” You shook your head and laughed, standing up to take your empty plates to the sink. He followed after you with the leftovers, grabbing some empty containers while you washed the dishes. 

“Wanna take a shower?” You tensed for a moment, caught off guard by his arms snaking around your waist as he hugged you from behind. His tall frame enveloped yours completely, blocking some of the light from the ceiling lamps.

“Sure, give me a second.”

“I feel sweaty and disgusting, you deserve a clean boyfriend.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes at his comment, sweat was not something that bothered you much, even more so when you had been deprived of him for too long. It was safe to say your relationship was past the point where either of you would be embarrassed about such insignificant and normal things. Once you were done with the dishes and dried your hands, Jay spun you around and placed a brief kiss on your lips. He chuckled at the evident disappointment on your face when he pulled away, even though he felt the same way.

The floorboards creaked faintly as you both made your way upstairs, grabbing some shower essentials from the bedroom. His hand was holding yours, pulling you along with him while you talked about random things.

The door closed behind you and you started taking your clothes off, unaware of his appreciative gaze watching you strip. If he wasn't so tired right now, he would definitely have other plans than just showering together with you. You suddenly caught him staring and playfully narrowed your eyes, to which he merely grinned before undressing too.

Jay followed as you stepped into the shower and turned it on. The warm water felt so good against your skin, it was soothing and comfortable. Not even a moment later he was already pulling you against his body again. The hug felt so much more intimate when you were both naked, like there was nothing separating the two of you from each other. Your head was resting against his chest, your eyes closed as you felt his hands caress your sides oh so gently.

The humid air only served to relax you both even more. All you wanted was this moment to last forever, just you and him with no distractions or obligations.

"I love you, my darling." He broke the silence and kissed the top of your head affectionately.

You swore your heart was going to burst with the amount of love you had for this man. "I love you too." You tilted your head to look up at him, letting him see the raw sincerity in your eyes.

He smiled back at you soflty and moved to grab the shower gel. Your gaze followed him curiously, watching as he wet the loofah and faced you.

"turn around." The gentleness in his tone gave you goosebumps, you obeyed silently without question.

Jay began rubbing your neck, shoulders and back, cleaning your body like it was the most precious thing in his world. It felt nothing short of amazing as your boyfriend cared for you so willingly, helping you with something you could've done yourself too.

When he was done, he turned you around and repeated his actions again. No part of your body was left untouched by his loving hands. All you could do was stand there and wonder how on earth you managed to get the most amazing guy on the entire planet.

Jay reached for the shower head and angled it, letting the water wash off all the soap from your skin. Once he was done, you kissed his cheek and took the loofah from his hand, indicating that it was your turn to return the favour. His hands were placed on your hips lazily as you started massaging the soap into his skin.

In moments like these you were always reminded of how deep the relationship between you two was. You knew in your heart that if it wasn't going to be him standing at the altar, then nonody would. He was perfect for you, and you were perfect for him too.

You didn't talk much as you finished the shower, but both of your actions spoke more than words could. You'd done enough talking during his time away, now you just wanted to enjoy his presence and touch.

He brushed his teeth next to you, his eyes always darting to see your face through the mirror, as if he was still in disbelief that you were real. You occasionally bumped your hips against him, to which he responded with a kiss on your face.

Jay groaned in satisfaction when he finally pulled his pajamas on, the pent up exhaustion was finally catching up to him. You wore his shirt to sleep (obviously), it had lost its smell already but that didn't matter anymore when Jay was finally going to be next to you.

He didn't waste much time and climbed into bed, opening his arms for you impatiently. "Come here baby."

You smiled widely, ignoring the way your cheeks were starting to hurt from the constant grinning. The bed dipped with your added weight, you eagerly climbed into his arms and let out a satisfied sigh. His fingers brushed through your hair gently, his body was aching with the need for sleep. You rested your face against the fabric of his shirt and tangled your legs with his in hopes of being as close as possible.

"I'm so glad you're here again, I missed you so much." Even though you already told him that, it didn't feel enough. The words couldn't convey how much you'd truly missed him.

"Me too sweetheart. Me too." He mumbled against your hair. "I'm going to make it up to you I promise. For the next few weeks you won't spend a single second without me."

You smiled at the thought and nodded, your plans were very similar. You weren't going to let him go for the foreseeable future. "Deal."

His other hand found your chin and carefully tilted it upward so he could see your face. You took this as an opportunity to say something you wanted to say for a while now, "I'm so proud of you, Jay. You always work so hard and still take care of me."

His lips curved into a smile, his eyes were shining with adoration. "Of course, I'll always make time for you. My life would be so much worse without you in it. You're my gorgeous girl and I just want to spoil you for the rest of my life."

If he wanted to say more, it was cut short by your lips pressing against his. He returned it happily, pulling you closer against him by your waist. Nothing felt better than his sweet, loving kisses. After a few minutes, he pulled away and brushed a strand of your hair aside. "We should get some sleep, you're going to need your energy for tomorrow."

"For what?" You hummed curiously, studying his face for a hint.

"I'm going to show you just how much I missed you and that pretty little body of yours." He grinned, his voice carried a hint of suggestiveness which made your heart beat faster in anticipation.

"Well then, you too" You replied simply and pecked his lips one last time. "Goodnight babe."

"Goodnight love."

tags: @vivimura @who-tf-soddhi @laurradoesloveu @p1hbrook @hoonielvv @nodoubtily @enhamonsterghoul @heebambilee @en-chantedtomeetyou @hsbae @jellyluv4eva @vivissection @beigerin @jwywife @elairah @heekilrvs @jayjw16enxp @lakoya @ijustreallylike2read @annovaz @strawberrynull @abbyeey @celestiai0 @enhalxvr @llearlert @raizennloll @rizzmura @sabriochee @sol3chu @fluveriiez @kitty-won07 @sucrosxi @kukkurookkoo @mimisxs @darquette @hhyvsstuff @lovelydeliciousfestival @luciathcv @bigwforjay @pshfan0812 @lov4hoon @jaerisdiction @kireiinahana @abzyissupersleepy @madslove-enhypen @b3tt7boop @dodot04lover @ki2rins @sugarikiz (mwah) ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

[pinkmoontaco]

Crossroads of Fate || Bangchan

Pairing: Idol Bangchan X Songwriter Y/n Genre: Romance/Angst Plot: BangChan reunites with his first love, now an award-winning songwriter, when Stray Kids is assigned one of her songs for their comeback. As they collaborate, old feelings resurface, but both struggle with the changes fame and time have brought to their lives. With conflicting schedules, unresolved past conflicts, and the pressures of being in the public eye, they must decide if their love story deserves a second chance. Author's Note: Please give it lots of love and support! Don’t forget to leave your thoughts and comments—they mean so much to me and help me improve. Your feedback and encouragement keep me motivated to keep writing. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me. Love you guys. And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other groups

The studio was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft glow of the soundboard. Bang Chan leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the desk as he studied the empty monitor. Deadlines loomed like storm clouds, but his mind was elsewhere. The announcement of their next comeback track had sent waves of excitement through the team, but for Chan, it carried an unexpected weight.

It wasn’t just any song.

The songwriter’s name had been highlighted in bold letters on the file his manager handed him a week ago. Y/N. A name he hadn’t spoken aloud in years, but one that lingered in his memory like a melody he couldn’t forget.

“Hyung?” Han’s voice broke through Chan’s thoughts as he peeked into the room. “We’re heading out for dinner. You coming?”

Chan shook his head. “Not tonight. I have to prep for tomorrow.”

Han shrugged but didn’t push further. “Don’t overwork yourself,” he said before disappearing down the hallway.

Chan sighed, glancing at the clock. Tomorrow’s meeting wasn’t just about the song—it was a reunion with the person who had written it. A person he hadn’t seen since she’d walked out of his life all those years ago.

The next day, the conference room buzzed with energy. The entire Stray Kids lineup sat around the long table, chatting excitedly about the new track. Chan, however, remained quieter than usual, fiddling with a pen in his hand.

The door opened, and all eyes turned toward the figure stepping inside.

Y/N.

She looked different, yet the same. Her posture was confident, her expression calm, but Chan caught the faint flicker of hesitation in her gaze. She scanned the room, pausing briefly when her eyes met his. It was just a second—long enough to stir the ache in his chest that he thought he’d buried.

“Thank you all for having me,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with nervous energy. “I’ve been a fan of your work, and I’m excited to collaborate on this project.”

The members greeted her warmly, breaking the ice with their usual lighthearted banter. Chan stayed silent, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

As the meeting progressed, Y/N explained the inspiration behind the song. Her words were professional, but to Chan, every lyric she described felt like a reflection of their shared past. He wondered if the others noticed or if he was the only one reading between the lines.

When the meeting ended, the members filed out, leaving Chan and Y/N alone in the room.

“You’ve come a long way,” she said, breaking the silence.

“So have you,” he replied, his voice softer than he intended.

For a moment, they stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

“About the song—” Chan started, but she cut him off.

“Let’s keep it professional,” Y/N said quickly, her tone firm but not unkind. “It’s better that way.”

Chan nodded, though her words stung. “Right. Professional.”

As she walked out, leaving him alone with his thoughts, Chan couldn’t help but wonder if working together would be their chance to reconcile or if it would only deepen the distance between them.

Chan lingered in the now-empty conference room, staring at the notes Y/N had left on the whiteboard. The melody she'd described echoed in his mind. It was haunting yet beautiful—so distinctly her. His fingers itched to bring it to life, but a heavier thought weighed him down.

“Let’s keep it professional.”

Her words replayed in his mind like a broken record. After all these years, was that really all they could be?

The door creaked open, breaking his spiral of thoughts. Seungmin poked his head in, his usual deadpan expression in place.

“Hyung, we’re all in the practice room. Y/N noona said she’d stop by after she checks something with the staff,” he said casually.

“Noona, huh?” Chan muttered, half-smiling.

“Isn’t she older than you? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to call her?” Seungmin said with a shrug. “She’s cool, though. Don’t be weird about it.”

Chan chuckled despite himself. “I’m not being weird.”

“You’re always weird.”

“Get out of here before I make you practice alone,” Chan shot back, though his tone was playful. Seungmin left with a smirk, and Chan finally pushed himself out of his chair, grabbing his notebook and heading for the practice room.

Y/N stood just outside the room, scrolling through her phone as Chan approached. She looked up when she sensed his presence.

“Heading to practice?” she asked, keeping her tone light.

“Yeah. You’re coming in, right?” he replied, holding the door open for her.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Just to observe. I don’t want to interrupt.”

Inside, the members were in their usual chaotic state. Minho was leaning against the mirrors, chatting with Jeongin, while Han and Hyunjin playfully fought over whose choreography idea was better. The moment Y/N stepped in, the room seemed to shift.

“Noona!” Han called out cheerfully, waving her over. “You’re here! Come judge our moves.”

Hyunjin grinned, brushing his hair back dramatically. “I already know noona’s going to pick me. I’m the main dancer after all.”

“Don’t embarrass yourselves,” Minho teased, smirking as he leaned against the mirror. “Noona just got here.”

Y/N blinked, slightly taken aback by their easy familiarity, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “You guys are a lively bunch.”

“Always,” Jeongin said with a bright smile. “Noona, don’t listen to Hyunjin. He’s all talk.”

Chan leaned against the doorway, watching the interaction unfold. It was strange seeing Y/N in this setting, surrounded by his members and fitting in so seamlessly. He’d always imagined how she might’ve interacted with them if things had been different.

“Alright, let’s get to it,” Chan finally said, clapping his hands to gather their attention. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

As practice began, Y/N took a seat in the corner, observing with quiet focus. She occasionally scribbled notes into her notebook, but her gaze often drifted toward Chan.

He was in his element, leading the group with his usual mix of authority and warmth. His movements were sharp, his voice steady as he gave instructions. It reminded her of the boy she’d known back then—the one who dreamed of standing on stages but always made time to support her dreams, too.

“Noona, what do you think?” Hyunjin called out after a particularly intricate run-through of the choreography.

Y/N glanced up, realizing all eyes were on her. She cleared her throat. “It’s good. Clean, but…”

“But?” Han pressed, grinning.

“I think you can hit the beats a bit sharper here,” she said, gesturing to a specific section. “It’ll match the vibe of the song better.”

The group murmured their agreement, nodding thoughtfully.

“See, I told you she’s good,” Jeongin whispered to Hyunjin, who rolled his eyes.

Chan approached her during a break, holding out a water bottle. “They’re taking to you well,” he said.

She accepted the bottle with a small smile. “They’re a good group. Talented, too. You’ve done well with them.”

“They’re the ones who make it easy,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her. “You… You’ve done well for yourself, too. Your name’s everywhere these days.”

She laughed softly, a sound that tugged at his heart. “It’s different from what I thought I’d be doing, but I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Is that what you call it? Peace?”

Y/N’s smile faltered. She glanced away, pretending to focus on the members as they joked with one another. “It’s what I’ve chosen.”

Before Chan could respond, Han called out, “Hyung! Stop hogging noona and get back here. We need your opinion.”

Chan sighed but gave her a small nod. “We’re not done talking,” he said quietly before walking away.

Y/N watched him go, her chest tightening. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to have that conversation—if she could face the memories she’d locked away for so long.

But one thing was clear: being around Bang Chan again was stirring feelings she thought she’d buried for good.

The room was alive with laughter as the members continued to practice, but Bang Chan’s focus was elsewhere. He watched Y/N from across the room, noting the way her gaze lingered on the group with a mix of pride and nostalgia. It was a look he recognized—one she’d often worn back when their lives were simpler, before the weight of their choices had pulled them apart.

Her voice was still ringing in his ears: “It’s what I’ve chosen.”

The words triggered something in him, unlocking a door he hadn’t dared open in years.

Flashback: The Trainee Days

“Chan, you’re gonna blow the speakers if you keep cranking it up like that!” Y/N’s voice broke through the pounding bass, laughter lacing her words. She leaned against the doorway of the small practice room, her arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“Sorry, noona,” Chan said sheepishly, reaching for the volume knob. “I was just trying to get the bass to match the melody.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping inside with the casual ease of someone who practically lived there. Her hoodie was too big, her hair tied in a messy bun, but to Chan, she looked perfect.

“You’re such a perfectionist,” she teased, plopping down beside him on the floor. “Not everything has to be perfect, you know. Sometimes it’s the flaws that make it special.”

“Easy for you to say,” he replied, grinning. “Your vocals are always flawless. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying to make sure my beats don’t sound like garbage.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re too hard on yourself, Chan. You’re better than you think.”

Her words always had a way of grounding him, of making him believe in himself even when self-doubt threatened to take over. It was one of the many reasons he’d fallen for her.

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the equipment. Then, she broke it.

“Do you ever think about what it’ll be like? When we debut?”

“All the time,” Chan admitted. “But it’s scary, too. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we don’t make it?”

“You will,” she said firmly. “I know you will. You’re too talented, too driven not to.”

He turned to look at her, the sincerity in her eyes almost overwhelming. “What about you?” he asked quietly.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know,” she said after a long pause. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for this. The competition, the pressure… it’s a lot.”

“You’re cut out for it,” he said, his voice steady. “You’ve got everything it takes, noona. Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Chan.”

They didn’t need to say more. The silence that followed was comfortable, the kind that only came with understanding and trust.

But looking back, Chan would always remember that moment—the moment he realized how much she meant to him, and how terrified he was of losing her.

Back to the Present

“Hyung, you good?” Felix’s voice jolted Chan back to the present.

“Huh?” He blinked, realizing he’d been staring into space.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Felix said with a concerned smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Chan said quickly, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Just… thinking.”

“About noona?” Han teased, leaning on Felix’s shoulder with a mischievous grin. “You’ve been stealing glances at her all day.”

Chan shot him a warning look, but it was too late. The rest of the members had caught on, and the teasing began in earnest.

“Hyung’s got history with noona, doesn’t he?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Tell us, tell us!” Jeongin chimed in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Chan groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can we focus on practice, please?”

The members laughed but let it go, and Chan stole another glance at Y/N. She was focused on her notebook, oblivious to the chaos around her.

He wondered if she remembered that night in the practice room as vividly as he did. Or if, for her, it was just another forgotten chapter in a story she’d already moved on from.

The members were busy working on a choreography run-through, giving Bang Chan a moment to slip out of the practice room unnoticed. His chest felt tight, his emotions tangled as his thoughts drifted further into the past. He leaned against the hallway wall, staring at the ceiling as memories flooded his mind.

Flashback: The Night She Left

It was late—past midnight, though neither of them seemed to care. The JYP building was silent except for the faint creak of the floors and the hum of fluorescent lights. Chan had texted Y/N to meet him in the practice room, and now he stood there, pacing, waiting for her to arrive.

When the door finally opened, she stepped in, her usual bright expression subdued. The oversized hoodie she wore dwarfed her frame, and her hair was tucked under a cap as if she were trying to disappear.

“Hey,” she said softly, closing the door behind her.

“Hey,” Chan replied, though his voice was tinged with unease. He stopped pacing, turning to face her. “What’s going on? You sounded… weird in your text.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. “I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chan’s stomach churned. He had known her long enough to recognize the look in her eyes—the way her walls were slowly going up, shutting him out.

“Okay,” he said cautiously. “Talk to me.”

She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as if bracing herself for impact. “I’m leaving, Chan.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “Leaving? What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m quitting the trainee program,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m not debuting. I can’t do this anymore.”

Chan stared at her, disbelief written all over his face. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best trainees here! Everyone knows that. Why would you—”

“It doesn’t matter how good I am,” she interrupted, her tone sharp but pained. “This life… it’s not for me, Chan. The endless hours, the pressure, the constant comparisons… I can’t keep up. I thought I could, but I was wrong.”

“But you’ve worked so hard,” he argued, his voice rising in desperation. “You’ve been here longer than almost anyone! You’ve sacrificed so much—why give up now?”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. “Because I’m tired, Chan. Tired of feeling like I’m never enough. Tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m not.”

Chan took a step closer, his heart racing. “You are enough, Y/N. You’ve always been enough. If you’re struggling, we can figure it out together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her gaze softened at his words, but she shook her head. “You don’t get it. You’re different, Chan. You thrive here. This is where you’re meant to be. But me? I feel like I’m suffocating.”

He clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling over. “So that’s it? You’re just… walking away? From everything? From me?”

Her breath hitched, and for the first time, her composure cracked. “Don’t make this harder than it already is,” she pleaded. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I need to find a life where I can breathe again.”

Chan felt a lump rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down. “When?” he asked quietly.

“Tomorrow,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“Tomorrow?” His voice broke. “You weren’t even going to tell me until now?”

“I didn’t know how,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I knew you’d try to stop me, and I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t face you.”

Chan closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. When he opened them again, they were filled with pain. “Do you know how much I care about you?” he asked, his voice raw. “Do you even realize what you’re walking away from?”

Her lip quivered, but she stood her ground. “I care about you too, Chan. More than you know. But that’s why I have to leave. If I stay, I’ll only drag you down with me.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Goodbye, Chan,” she said finally, her voice breaking.

And just like that, she walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, his heart shattered into pieces.

Back to the Present

Chan let out a shaky breath, rubbing his hands over his face. Even after all these years, the memory of that night still stung like an open wound. He had tried to move on, to bury the pain and focus on his dreams. But seeing Y/N again had brought everything rushing back.

He pushed off the wall, forcing himself to return to the practice room. When he walked in, the members were laughing about something Y/N had said. She looked up as he entered, her smile fading slightly when their eyes met.

Chan forced a small smile, but inside, he felt like he was standing at a crossroads again.

This time, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive losing her twice.

Y/N sat in the corner of the practice room, her notebook balanced on her lap. The sounds of Stray Kids rehearsing filled the space around her—an intricate mix of synchronized movements and playful banter that reminded her why she had loved this world once.

Her pen hovered above the page, but her thoughts were far from the notes she was supposed to be taking. Every time her gaze flickered to Bang Chan, her chest tightened with a mix of emotions she couldn’t name.

How does he do it? she wondered. How does he still look so steady, so sure of himself, after all these years?

She didn’t regret leaving—not exactly. But being here, in the same room as him, made her question everything she’d told herself since that night.

Flashback: After She Left

The day she walked away from the trainee program, Y/N felt like a ghost. She had packed her things in silence, avoiding the eyes of the friends she’d made and the staff who had believed in her. She couldn’t bear their questions, their pity, or the disappointment that would surely follow.

When she stepped outside the JYP building for what she knew would be the last time, the air felt colder, sharper. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—Chan’s name lighting up the screen.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Instead, she turned off her phone and slipped it into her bag, hoping the silence would numb the ache in her chest.

For weeks, she avoided looking at anything related to JYP, idol groups, or the industry altogether. She threw herself into other pursuits, trying to fill the void that music had left behind. But no matter how hard she tried, the memories lingered.

She missed the late-night practices, the camaraderie, the way her heart would race when she stepped into a recording booth. And more than anything, she missed him.

I did the right thing, she told herself every time the doubts crept in. I wasn’t strong enough for that life.

But even as the years passed and her career as a songwriter began to flourish, the guilt never fully disappeared.

Back to the Present

“Y/N noona, what do you think?” Han’s cheerful voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She blinked, realizing that the group had finished their run-through and were now looking at her expectantly.

“It’s good,” she said quickly, sitting up straighter. “Really good. But I think you could emphasize the transitions more—make them feel smoother so they match the flow of the song.”

The members nodded thoughtfully, murmuring to each other about adjustments they could make.

“Good catch, noona,” Hyunjin said with a grin. “You’ve got a sharp eye.”

Y/N smiled faintly, her heart warming at their easy acceptance of her. It felt strange, being called “noona” by a group of idols who had risen to international stardom. She admired their talent, their passion, and the bond they clearly shared.

But her gaze kept drifting back to Chan.

He was quieter than she remembered, his playful energy tempered by a calm maturity that suited him. Yet beneath his composure, she could sense the tension—like he was holding back words he didn’t know how to say.

During a break, she slipped out of the practice room, needing a moment to herself. The hallway was empty, and she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath.

Her mind wandered back to their conversation earlier:

“You’ve come a long way.”

“So have you.”

The way he’d looked at her—like he was trying to piece together who she was now—made her chest ache. She had wanted to tell him everything: how much she had missed him, how often she’d thought about him, and how hard it had been to walk away.

But she couldn’t. Not now.

The sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. She opened her eyes to find Chan standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

He hesitated, then took a step closer. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend everything’s fine when it’s not,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers. “I know you, Y/N. Better than you think.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, all the walls she’d built around herself felt like they might crumble.

“Chan…” she started, her voice faltering.

He waited, his patience unwavering. But before she could say more, the sound of someone calling his name echoed down the hallway.

“Hyung, we need you!”

Chan sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll be right there!” he called back.

When he turned back to her, his expression softened. “This isn’t over,” he said quietly.

And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone with the weight of everything she couldn’t bring herself to say.

Y/N stood frozen in the hallway long after Chan had gone. His words echoed in her mind: “This isn’t over.”

She wanted to believe him. Part of her even wanted to let herself hope that they could go back to the way things were before she’d walked away. But the years had changed them both, and she wasn’t sure if they were still the same people who had sat in that small practice room late at night, sharing their dreams and fears.

She sighed, shaking her head as if to clear it. Focus on work, Y/N. That’s why you’re here.

Squaring her shoulders, she headed back to the practice room. When she entered, the members were scattered across the floor, catching their breath after another run-through.

“Noona, you’re back!” Jeongin called out, grinning.

“Of course,” she replied, forcing a smile. “You didn’t think I’d leave without finishing, did you?”

“Never,” Han teased. “But you did miss Chan hyung trying to demonstrate a move and almost falling flat on his face.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Y/N’s gaze instinctively found Chan. He was sitting on the floor, a water bottle in hand, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Don’t listen to them,” he said, looking at her with a lopsided smile. “I was fine.”

Y/N arched a brow, her playful side slipping through despite herself. “You sure? Should I call a medic?”

The members laughed even harder, and Chan shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. “No need, noona. I’ll survive.”

For a moment, the tension between them seemed to ease, replaced by a warmth that felt almost familiar.

Practice wrapped up just as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Y/N gathered her things, preparing to leave, when a voice stopped her.

“Y/N.”

She turned to see Chan standing by the doorway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. The others had already left, leaving them alone in the room.

“Walk with me?” he asked, his tone careful, almost hesitant.

Y/N hesitated, her instinct to say no warring with the part of her that longed to talk to him. Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”

They walked in silence at first, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. The building was quiet now, a stark contrast to the lively energy of earlier.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Chan began, breaking the silence.

Y/N glanced at him, her brow furrowing. “What I said?”

“About how you’ve changed,” he clarified. “How this isn’t your world anymore.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s true. I’ve been out of it for so long… I don’t think I’d even know how to fit back in.”

“You don’t have to fit back in,” he said gently. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t belong here.”

Y/N stopped walking, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. “Chan, I left because I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t strong enough. You don’t understand—”

“I do understand,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “Do you think I haven’t felt that way? That I haven’t questioned if I’m good enough or strong enough to keep going?”

She looked at him, startled by the raw vulnerability in his expression.

“We all have those moments,” he continued. “But you didn’t leave because you were weak, Y/N. You left because you were brave enough to choose what you needed, even if it hurt.”

His words hit her harder than she expected, and she had to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.

“I missed you,” she admitted softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Chan’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer. “I missed you too.”

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions. Y/N wanted to say so much—to explain, to apologize, to tell him how often she’d thought about him. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Do you regret it?” Chan asked suddenly.

She looked at him, her breath catching. “Regret what?”

“Leaving,” he said quietly.

She hesitated, the answer swirling in her mind. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But if I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be who I am now. And I wouldn’t be standing here, talking to you.”

Chan nodded slowly, his gaze searching hers. “Maybe it was meant to happen this way,” he said. “Maybe we needed time to grow on our own before we could find each other again.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, but this time, it wasn’t a painful ache—it was something softer, something that felt like hope.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

They stood there for a moment longer, the space between them charged with possibilities. And for the first time in years, Y/N allowed herself to believe that second chances might be worth taking.

The walk back to the dorms was quieter, yet the silence felt different now—less like avoidance and more like understanding. Bang Chan walked beside Y/N, their steps falling into an unspoken rhythm. Neither of them said much, but the air between them felt heavier with emotions they weren’t ready to voice.

As they reached the building’s entrance, Chan hesitated, his hand hovering near the door handle. “Do you want to come in? The others are still up, probably goofing around.”

Y/N gave a soft laugh. “I don’t know if I have the energy to deal with their endless teasing tonight.”

“They’ve already started calling you ‘noona’ like it’s a badge of honor,” Chan said, smiling. “You’ll never escape it now.”

Her lips curved into a small smile. “It’s kind of nice, though,” she admitted. “They remind me of... well, of us back then.”

Chan’s smile faltered slightly, the mention of the past tugging at something deep within him. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “They’ve got that same fire we used to have. But don’t sell yourself short—you still have it too.”

Y/N shook her head, looking away. “I don’t know about that.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of laughter from inside the dorm interrupted him. The door swung open, revealing Han and Seungmin, who froze when they saw them standing there.

“Hyung! Noona!” Han exclaimed, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “What’s this? A secret meeting?”

“Late-night date, maybe?” Seungmin chimed in, his deadpan delivery making it even funnier.

“Knock it off,” Chan said, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck.

Y/N laughed, the warmth in her chest pushing away the heaviness that had been sitting there all day. “If this is how you treat all your guests, I’m surprised anyone visits.”

“Only the special ones, noona,” Han quipped, winking at her.

“Go inside,” Chan ordered, shooing them back into the dorm.

As they retreated, still chuckling, Chan turned back to Y/N. “You sure you don’t want to come in? They’d love having you around.”

Y/N hesitated. A part of her wanted to join them, to let herself be swept up in their youthful energy and forget about everything else. But another part of her—the part that still carried the weight of the past—wasn’t sure if she was ready.

“Not tonight,” she said finally, her tone soft. “But... maybe another time.”

Chan nodded, his expression understanding. “Take your time,” he said. “We’ll be here.”

Later That Night

Y/N sat in her small apartment, staring at the blank notebook in front of her. The melody she’d been working on earlier was still stuck in her head, but the words wouldn’t come.

Her mind kept drifting back to Chan—his voice, his smile, the way he’d looked at her like he was still trying to understand why she’d left.

She sighed, setting the notebook aside. The memories were too loud tonight, refusing to be ignored.

Flashback: The First Goodbye

The airport was crowded, the hum of activity a stark contrast to the stillness Y/N felt inside. Her suitcase sat at her feet, and her plane ticket was clutched tightly in her hand.

She’d made the decision to leave Korea and start fresh abroad, hoping that distance would help her figure out who she was without the weight of the trainee life she’d abandoned.

Chan had shown up unannounced, his face flushed from running through the terminal.

“You weren’t going to tell me you were leaving the country?” he’d asked, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“I thought it would be easier this way,” she’d said, unable to meet his eyes.

“Easier for who?” he’d demanded, his hurt bleeding into anger. “For you? Because it sure as hell isn’t easier for me!”

Y/N had felt the tears welling up, but she’d forced herself to stay calm. “Chan, I can’t stay here. Every corner of this city feels like a reminder of everything I failed at.”

“You didn’t fail,” he’d said, his voice softening. “You just… chose a different path.”

She’d shaken her head, unwilling to let him comfort her. “I need this, Chan. I need to figure out who I am without this life. Without…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, but he understood.

“Without me,” he’d said quietly, the pain in his voice cutting through her like a knife.

She’d wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he was the only part of her life she’d ever been sure of. But she didn’t. Instead, she’d stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug that felt more like a goodbye than she’d intended.

“I’m sorry,” she’d whispered.

When she’d pulled back, his eyes were red, but he didn’t say anything else. He’d just watched as she picked up her suitcase and walked away.

Back to the Present

Y/N wiped at her eyes, surprised to find tears there. The memory of that day still haunted her, and being around Chan again had only brought it all back.

But as painful as it was, it also made her realize something: she wasn’t as far away from that world as she thought.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to find her place in it again.

The next day, Y/N found herself sitting in the studio, the same studio where Chan had told her Stray Kids often worked on their music. She had arrived early, telling herself it was to focus on finishing the lyrics for their comeback song.

But as she stared at the screen of her laptop, the blinking cursor mocking her inability to write, she realized the real reason she was here: she wanted to see him again.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, the melody Chan had worked on playing softly in the background. She knew the song needed something—something raw and honest—but the words still wouldn’t come.

“You’re early.”

The familiar voice startled her, and she turned to see Chan leaning in the doorway, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Could say the same about you,” she replied, offering a small smile.

He stepped inside, setting the cup on the table next to her. “This is for you. Thought you might need it.”

“Thanks,” she said, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her, his gaze flickering to the screen. “Stuck?”

“Something like that,” she admitted, sighing. “I have the melody in my head, but the lyrics… they just don’t feel right.”

Chan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes the words come when you stop trying so hard. What are you writing about?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers brushing against the keyboard. “The feeling of losing something you can’t get back,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond right away, but when she looked up, his eyes were locked on hers. “Is that how you feel?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chan leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped in front of him. “You know, I used to think that too. That once something was gone, it was gone for good.”

“And now?”

“Now I think… maybe some things can come back,” he said, his gaze never wavering. “If both people are willing to try.”

Y/N’s breath caught, the vulnerability in his voice making her heart ache. “Chan, I—”

Before she could finish, the door opened, and Han poked his head inside.

“Hyung! Noona!” he said, his grin wide. “Are we interrupting something?”

Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly shook her head. “No, just working.”

“Sure you are,” Han teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Anyway, we’re starting rehearsal in ten minutes. Don’t be late!”

With that, he disappeared, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Han has the worst timing.”

Y/N chuckled softly, the tension easing slightly. “He’s just being Han.”

As Chan stood, he glanced at her again. “Think about what I said,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Y/N sat on her bed that night, her notebook open in her lap. Chan’s words played over and over in her mind, his quiet determination resonating with something deep inside her.

She picked up her pen, letting the melody guide her, and began to write. The words flowed more easily now, like they’d been waiting for her to let go of her fear.

Y/N arrived at the studio early again, her notebook clutched tightly in her hands. She found Chan already there, headphones on as he worked on the track.

When he noticed her, he smiled and pulled the headphones off. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she replied, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I have something to show you,” she said, holding out the notebook.

Chan took it, his brows furrowing as he scanned the lyrics. As he read, his expression softened, and when he looked up at her, there was a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite name in his eyes.

“This…” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “This is perfect.”

Y/N felt a weight lift off her chest, her lips curving into a tentative smile. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he said firmly. “It’s honest, Y/N. It’s real. Just like you.”

The warmth in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

As they worked together on the song, their laughter filled the room, blending seamlessly with the music. And in that moment, Y/N realized something: maybe second chances weren’t about starting over. Maybe they were about picking up where you left off and finding the courage to keep going.

As the days passed, Y/N and Chan found themselves spending more time together, not just in the studio but outside of it too. Their shared moments stretched from late-night brainstorming sessions to quiet coffee breaks, each encounter chipping away at the wall that had built up between them over the years.

The song they were working on was slowly coming together, its lyrics raw and emotional. Every note and word seemed to carry a piece of their unspoken feelings, weaving a story of loss and rediscovery.

One Late Night at the Studio

The clock read 2:14 AM, but neither of them seemed to notice. Chan sat at the keyboard, his fingers lightly pressing the keys, playing the melody on loop as Y/N leaned over a notepad, scribbling and crossing out lines.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Chan said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Y/N glanced up, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“You rewrite every line five times before you even give it a chance to breathe,” he said, turning to face her. “Sometimes, the first thought is the most honest.”

She leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against the notepad. “I guess I’m scared it won’t be good enough.”

“For who?”

Y/N hesitated. “For you. For the members. For everyone who listens to it.”

Chan’s expression softened, and he reached out, his hand resting lightly on hers. “Y/N, it’s already good enough. You’re good enough.”

The sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten, and she looked down at their hands, her heart pounding. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

He smiled faintly. “Not always. But when it comes to you, I try.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the air between them charged. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “We should get back to work,” she said softly, breaking the moment.

Chan nodded, but the way he looked at her told her he’d felt it too.

The Next Day

After practice, Chan approached her with a sly smile. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Come with me,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have something to show you.”

Curious, Y/N agreed, and a few hours later, they found themselves walking along a quiet path near the Han River. The city lights reflected on the water, casting a soft glow over everything.

“This used to be my escape,” Chan said, gesturing to the river. “Whenever things got too overwhelming, I’d come here to clear my head.”

Y/N smiled, her arms wrapped around herself against the cool breeze. “It’s beautiful.”

They sat on a bench overlooking the water, the sounds of the city distant and muted. For a while, neither of them spoke, content to simply be in each other’s presence.

“Do you ever think about the past?” Y/N asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“All the time,” Chan admitted, his gaze fixed on the water. “Especially the parts with you.”

Her heart ached at his honesty. “I never stopped thinking about you, Chan. Even when I was halfway across the world, you were always in the back of my mind.”

He turned to her, his eyes searching hers. “Then why did you stay away?”

“I was scared,” she said, her voice trembling. “Scared that coming back would make everything worse. Scared that I wouldn’t know how to face you.”

“You didn’t have to face it alone,” he said gently. “You still don’t.”

Y/N looked at him, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his words. “Chan, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he said, his hand finding hers once more. “Not if we’re both willing to fight for this.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she nodded, a small smile breaking through. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he echoed, a hopeful smile spreading across his face.

“Okay,” she repeated, her voice stronger this time.

They sat there for hours, talking about everything and nothing, their laughter mixing with the sound of the river. And for the first time in years, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be—beside him.

The following days were filled with rehearsals, studio sessions, and fan events, but the unspoken connection between Y/N and Chan remained a quiet, constant presence. Their bond deepened with every passing moment, but they kept it to themselves, not ready to make their feelings public—at least, not yet.

The members of Stray Kids, however, weren’t blind. They could see the way Chan’s eyes softened whenever Y/N entered the room, the way she would glance at him from across the studio with that quiet warmth. It didn’t take long for them to start noticing the subtle changes.

A Few Days Later, During Rehearsal

The practice room was buzzing with energy as the Stray Kids members ran through choreography for their upcoming comeback. Y/N was there as usual, helping with the songwriting and offering her input where needed. She sat off to the side, her legs crossed, her notebook in her lap.

But it didn’t take long before Chan noticed her gaze shifting toward him every few seconds. He caught her eyes once, offering a smile. It was simple but full of understanding, and for a split second, it felt like the world faded away around them.

"Chan, focus!" Hyunjin’s voice broke through the moment, pulling him back to the present.

"Yeah, no zoning out now," Felix added, grinning mischievously.

Chan cleared his throat, his face turning slightly pink as he forced himself to focus on the choreography. But his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N, and despite his best efforts to keep it cool, the members were starting to catch on.

After a long rehearsal, the members of Stray Kids were gathered in the living room of their dorm, winding down from the intense practice. Y/N had joined them, laughing along with their teasing and sharing stories about her experiences with music.

Chan, as usual, found himself seated beside her. Their shoulders brushed now and then, and each time it sent a small shock through him, but he didn’t pull away. It felt comfortable, natural even.

“Alright, we’re getting to the good part!” Changbin said, holding up his phone. “Let’s see how long it takes for you two to admit it already.”

Y/N and Chan both blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “What?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

“You know,” Hyunjin smirked, “the whole ‘will-they-won’t-they’ thing. We can tell there’s something going on between you two. The vibe is very obvious.”

Chan’s face flushed bright red. “Hyunjin—no.”

“No, no, don’t hide it!” Han laughed, pointing between Y/N and Chan. “It’s so clear! You two are practically glued to each other. Everyone’s been noticing it, even the fans.”

Y/N’s heart raced. “There’s nothing going on,” she tried to say, but the words felt weak even to her own ears.

“Sure, noona,” Felix teased, grinning. “You’re just here for the music, right?”

The rest of the members burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the teasing. Y/N looked at Chan, her heart pounding in her chest. He met her gaze, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“I—uh—guess we’re not as subtle as we thought,” Chan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, we’re not saying anything’s happening right now,” Seungmin chimed in, his tone playful. “But it’s obvious something’s there. We’re not blind.”

Y/N could feel her face burning, and she shifted uncomfortably. “We’re just… working together on the song,” she said quickly, hoping the explanation would stick.

But instead of pushing further, the members nodded, their teasing settling down. “If you two are happy, we’re happy,” Changbin added with a grin. “Just don’t leave us in the dark, okay?”

Y/N and Chan exchanged a glance. There was no denying that something was shifting between them, but neither of them was ready to put a label on it yet. It wasn’t about making an announcement; it was about feeling the moment together, quietly, without the pressure of others’ expectations.

Later That Evening

After the playful teasing from the members, Y/N and Chan found themselves alone in the kitchen, making tea. It was quiet now, just the two of them and the soft hum of the kitchen lights.

“You okay?” Chan asked, glancing at her as he poured water into the kettle.

“Yeah, just… a little embarrassed,” she admitted with a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting them to be so direct about it.”

Chan chuckled. “They’re always like that. But they mean well.”

“I know,” she said, stirring her tea absentmindedly. “It’s just… I’m not used to this. Not used to being the center of attention like that.”

Chan leaned against the counter, his eyes softening as he watched her. “I get it. It’s a lot, but we don’t have to rush anything. We can take our time.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “We’re okay.”

They stood in the silence for a few moments before Chan spoke again, his voice quieter now. “I mean it, though. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll figure it out.”

Y/N met his eyes, her heart swelling at his words. “I’m glad we’re doing this. Together.”

Chan smiled, his gaze full of sincerity. “Me too.”

The days passed in a blur, and every moment Y/N spent with Chan only made her more aware of how deeply she had fallen for him. It wasn’t just the way he looked at her with such kindness, nor was it the gentle way he treated her as if she were the most precious thing in the room. It was everything—the way he understood her without words, the way he could make her laugh even on her worst days, and the way their silences were never uncomfortable.

But despite the deep connection they shared, there was still a part of her that hesitated. The fear of crossing a line. The fear of disrupting the delicate balance they had found.

It was late one evening after practice, and Stray Kids had finished a grueling rehearsal. The members were scattered throughout the dorm, unwinding and preparing for the next day’s schedule. Y/N had stayed behind to finish a few last notes on the song they were collaborating on, the melody and lyrics now blending seamlessly into a perfect mix of their shared creativity.

Chan, however, had lingered. He stood outside the door of the practice room for a moment, watching her from the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest. He had been battling with his feelings for weeks now, unsure if Y/N felt the same way. Every time they shared a quiet moment, it felt like there was something more beneath the surface, but the uncertainty lingered.

He couldn’t stand it anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open, stepping inside.

Y/N didn’t look up at first, her focus on the notebook in front of her, but the sound of the door closing gently made her glance up.

“Chan?”

He walked toward her, his gaze soft, yet determined. “Y/N,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “There’s something I need to say to you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she set the pen down, suddenly feeling nervous. “What’s wrong?”

Chan shook his head, his smile faint but real. “Nothing’s wrong. But I’ve been holding something in for too long, and I can’t keep doing that.”

Y/N’s chest tightened as he took a step closer, his presence so comforting yet electrifying. “What is it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I—” Chan paused, his throat tight with nerves. He had never been one to shy away from his feelings, but this felt different. He knew the stakes were higher now. He could feel the tension between them, the unspoken understanding that they both felt something, but hadn’t yet acknowledged it.

“I think I’ve loved you for a long time,” Chan admitted, his eyes locked onto hers, his words raw and vulnerable.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The words, so simple yet so powerful, sent her heart into overdrive. “Chan… I—”

But before she could say anything else, he reached out, cupping her face gently with both hands. His thumb brushed across her cheek, and in that moment, everything else in the world seemed to fade away. There was only the two of them, standing in the quiet of the room, the air thick with emotions they had both been too afraid to voice until now.

“I can’t hold back anymore, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice hushed but full of intent. “I want you. And I want to be with you, if you feel the same way.”

Her heart soared as she nodded, a soft smile curling at the corners of her lips. “I feel the same, Chan. I’ve always felt the same.”

Before she could say anything more, Chan leaned in slowly, his eyes flickering between hers and her lips. He paused, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted to, but the moment stretched on, and she didn’t move. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, closing the distance between them.

Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was soft at first, as if both of them were testing the waters, but the moment their lips touched, a spark ignited between them. The kiss deepened, and Y/N’s hands found their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her fingertips. Chan’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate.

Time seemed to stand still, the only sound the soft rush of their breaths and the quiet hum of the room around them. It was as though the entire world had paused, and for once, there was nothing but the two of them in that moment, finally free to be what they had both secretly wanted for so long.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Chan rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gently cradling her face.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

“I know,” she whispered back, her hands tracing the lines of his shirt, still feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

They stood there for a few moments, wrapped in the aftermath of the kiss, letting the reality of it settle. It was like the weight of the years they had spent apart had lifted, and in its place was the promise of something new, something they could both build together.

Finally, Chan pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and disbelief. “I think we should make this official,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “I’m not letting you go this time, Y/N.”

She smiled up at him, her heart full. “I’m not going anywhere.”

After that night, everything changed between Y/N and Chan. What had once been subtle glances and fleeting touches now became an undeniable force that neither of them could ignore. It was as if the world had slowed down, leaving just the two of them caught in the newfound intensity of their connection.

The evening had settled in with a quiet calm, and Stray Kids had finished another long day of practice. Y/N had stayed behind for a while, working through some lyrics, but as the night deepened, she found herself looking out of the window, her thoughts wandering to the moment she and Chan had shared.

Without thinking, she made her way to the roof, craving some fresh air and solitude.

As she stepped onto the rooftop, the cool breeze brushed against her skin, and she took a deep breath, feeling the tension of the day slip away.

But her solitude didn’t last long. Moments later, the sound of footsteps approached, and Chan stepped into view, a smile playing on his lips.

“You were looking for me?” he asked, his voice soft yet teasing.

Y/N turned to him, her heart fluttering. “I just wanted some space to think.”

Chan walked toward her, the distance between them closing quickly. “I understand. Mind if I join you?”

Y/N smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to stand next to her. They stood in silence for a few moments, looking at the stars above them, the city lights twinkling below.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Chan remarked, his voice almost a whisper as he turned to face her.

She nodded, her gaze meeting his. “Just thinking about everything that’s changed.”

“You don’t have to be so guarded with me, you know,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “You can share anything.”

Without saying another word, he reached out, gently cupping her face, and before she could even react, he kissed her—slowly, softly, as if savoring the moment. The kiss was tender, almost like a question, a reassurance that they were both on the same page.

Y/N melted into him, her hands instinctively going to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body as she kissed him back, deepening the kiss. Their lips moved together in a rhythm they had somehow already known, their hearts racing in unison.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N was breathless, her heart pounding in her chest.

“That… that was...” she trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Perfect,” Chan finished for her, his smile wide and sincere. “I don’t want to let you go, Y/N.”

“I don’t want you to,” she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of his jaw.

Chan’s eyes softened, and he kissed her again, this time more urgently, as if the very act of being close to her was what he had been craving all this time. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her body against his. Y/N responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

The kiss deepened, each touch feeling more like a confession of everything they had been holding back. Y/N could feel the heat rising between them, the undeniable chemistry that had always been there, now unleashed.

When they pulled apart this time, their breathing was uneven, but their smiles never wavered.

“I want more of that,” Y/N whispered, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Then you’ll have it,” Chan promised, his voice low and filled with emotion.

As the night continued, Stray Kids and Y/N had moved back into the studio to work on the final touches for the track. The members were bustling around, preparing for the next stage of the project.

Chan and Y/N shared more than a few stolen moments during the session. Every so often, their hands brushed as they worked, the brief contact sending sparks through both of them. And each time, neither of them could resist the pull toward each other.

At one point, while the others were busy, Chan took Y/N’s hand and pulled her aside, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Hey, let’s take a break,” he suggested, his voice low.

Before she could say anything, he led her to a quiet corner of the studio, hidden away from the rest of the group.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in.

Y/N shivered at his closeness, her heart racing once more. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

With those words, he kissed her again, this time with more intensity, his hands sliding down her sides as he pressed her against the wall. Her hands went to his chest, pushing him slightly away just enough to look at him.

“Chan… we’re—”

“We’re fine,” he interrupted gently, his lips brushing against her ear. “Just let it happen. Let me kiss you like I’ve wanted to for so long.”

Y/N could only nod before pulling him back toward her, their lips colliding in a passionate kiss. The kiss was messy and urgent, fueled by all the emotions they had kept bottled up for too long. Chan’s hands explored her back, pulling her closer as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and Y/N responded in kind, her hands threading through his hair as she tugged him even closer.

The kiss deepened, and she could feel her body reacting to his touch. Their shared heat, the taste of each other, was intoxicating, and she never wanted it to end.

Finally, when they broke apart, both were breathless, their faces flushed with the intensity of the kiss.

“I never want to stop,” Y/N whispered, her lips still tingling from his touch.

“Then don’t,” Chan whispered back, his voice full of quiet determination. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The days that followed were filled with moments of subtle tenderness. For Y/N and Chan, their quiet connection had blossomed into something undeniable. But the more they navigated their feelings for each other, the more the rest of Stray Kids began to notice.

The members had been teasing them here and there, but they were starting to notice the small, almost imperceptible shifts in their interactions. How Y/N and Chan would share private smiles, how they’d brush their hands together while working, and how they couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off each other. It wasn’t just obvious anymore—it was undeniable.

A Few Days Later

The members were lounging around in the dorm’s living room, casually chatting and watching TV. Y/N was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her as she scrolled through her phone. Chan was standing by the window, his back turned to everyone, but he kept sneaking glances at her—his gaze soft and full of affection.

Felix, ever the observant one, caught on first. He shot a glance at Hyunjin, who was sitting beside him, his curiosity piqued.

“Hyunjin, do you notice anything… different about Chan and Y/N?” Felix asked, his voice a little quieter than usual, so as not to attract attention.

Hyunjin turned to look at them, his eyes narrowing with interest. “What do you mean?”

Felix motioned subtly to the two of them. “They’ve been acting... weird lately. More than usual.”

Hyunjin leaned back, crossing his arms. “I’ve noticed. They keep exchanging these looks... and they’ve been so close. They’re not even hiding it anymore.”

“You think?” Felix whispered, eyes widening.

Changbin, who was sitting across from them, suddenly joined the conversation. “You guys are so slow.”

“What?” Hyunjin and Felix both asked, clearly puzzled.

“Their chemistry is so obvious that it’s painful to watch,” Changbin said, looking at them like they were oblivious. “They’re definitely together. It’s been clear for days.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Are we talking about Y/N and Chan?”

Changbin nodded. “Are you guys blind? It’s been happening right in front of us.”

Meanwhile, Chan had been standing by the window, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. He knew the members were starting to figure it out, but he hadn’t yet decided how he was going to approach it. He wasn’t sure whether he was ready for the conversations that would follow—especially with Y/N being part of their world now.

Y/N glanced up at him from her phone, catching his thoughtful expression. She smiled gently, then stood up and walked over to him, her steps light. Without a word, she reached out and gently grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Everything okay?” she asked softly.

Chan turned to look at her, a small, tender smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

He paused, his gaze flickering between her and the members. “About... how much longer we can hide this from everyone.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think we need to hide it anymore.”

She leaned in slightly, her lips brushing his in a brief but sweet kiss. When she pulled away, her smile was soft but confident.

But before Chan could respond, the others noticed them. The members had been watching the exchange and couldn't ignore it any longer.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Seungmin called out from the couch, grinning. “You two are so obvious. Stop pretending you’re not together already!”

Y/N froze for a moment, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She pulled her hand from Chan’s and glanced at the members, who were all now looking at them with knowing smiles and raised eyebrows.

“Wait, what?” Y/N said, trying to sound nonchalant, though her voice cracked slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ve all seen it,” Hyunjin said with a teasing grin. “The secret looks. The little touches. The way you two act when no one’s looking.”

Felix smirked. “Noona, you’ve been keeping it lowkey, huh? But come on, we’re not that dumb.”

Chan sighed, his shoulders slumping as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess it’s pretty obvious.”

“I’m glad you finally admitted it,” Changbin said with a knowing wink. “We’ve been waiting for the two of you to figure it out.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her embarrassment fading into amusement. “I guess it wasn’t as secret as I thought.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Han said, rolling his eyes playfully. “You two are the worst at keeping things under wraps.”

“Wait, so you’re really together?” Seungmin asked, his eyes wide with mock surprise. “No one told me!”

“We’ve been waiting for the right moment,” Chan said, his voice calm but still with a hint of nervousness. He glanced at Y/N, his hand finding hers once again, their fingers intertwining naturally. “But I guess this is the moment.”

Y/N smiled softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah. We’re together.”

The members all erupted into cheers and claps, teasing them relentlessly but with warmth and excitement.

“Finally!” Felix shouted. “We’ve been waiting for this day!”

“Congratulations, Chan hyung!” Hyunjin added with a wink. “You didn’t let us down.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but his smile was wide. “You guys are impossible.”

Y/N laughed along with them, the tension lifting from the room. It felt right to finally say it out loud, to not hide it anymore. She and Chan were not only in a relationship—they were part of each other’s worlds now, and there was no turning back.

The group fell into easy chatter, teasing and congratulating the couple, but there was a warmth in the air now, a sense of unity that made everything feel just a little bit more perfect.

After the teasing had died down, and the members had retreated to their own corners, Chan and Y/N found themselves alone in the living room. The weight of their confessions still hung in the air, and they shared a quiet, intimate moment together.

Chan pulled Y/N into a gentle hug, his arms wrapped securely around her waist as they stood in the middle of the room, the night outside peaceful.

“I’m glad we did this,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she rested her head on his chest. “It feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad too,” Chan murmured, his lips pressing against the top of her head.

The days after the members discovered Y/N and Chan’s relationship were both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. While the members of Stray Kids were supportive, teasing, and genuinely happy for them, it also meant that their relationship was no longer a secret. It was out in the open, and the dynamic had shifted slightly.

But for Y/N and Chan, it felt like a new beginning. They could now be open with their feelings, share stolen moments without hiding in the shadows, and no longer had to hide the tender affection that had been building for so long.

A Week Later

Stray Kids had been hard at work preparing for their next performance, and the practice room buzzed with the usual energy and enthusiasm. However, there was a noticeable shift in the air. Y/N and Chan were no longer exchanging secret glances but instead spoke to each other with a familiarity and warmth that the other members had grown accustomed to seeing.

The energy was light, but there was an undeniable tension between the two of them—a good tension that seemed to draw them closer every time they exchanged looks or brushed past each other during rehearsal.

As they took a short break, Chan walked over to Y/N, who was sitting on the floor stretching.

“Need some help with that stretch?” he asked, his voice low but teasing.

Y/N smiled, looking up at him. “You always say that when I’m on the floor, don’t you?”

“Only because it’s cute when you stretch,” Chan replied, kneeling down next to her with a grin. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder, the touch sending warmth through her.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “You really need to stop with the compliments. You’re going to make me blush.”

“Good,” Chan said, leaning in closer. “I like it when you blush.”

She playfully pushed him away. “Stop! You’re too much sometimes.”

Before they could continue the playful banter, Bang Chan’s voice echoed from the other side of the room.

“Focus, you two!” Lee Know called, eyes narrowing teasingly. “We’re supposed to be stretching, not flirting!”

The entire room broke into laughter, but there was no denying the warmth between Chan and Y/N. The other members watched in amusement, clearly enjoying the comfort and chemistry between the two.

The Following Week

The group was now preparing for their upcoming comeback, and the studio had become a second home for Stray Kids. The energy was always high, and everyone was hard at work, but it also meant that Y/N and Chan had to navigate the complexities of being in a relationship while working in the same professional space.

As they worked side by side, Y/N noticed how effortlessly they fit into the dynamic of the group. Chan would check in with her about lyrics, sometimes brushing his hand against hers as he passed her papers or leaned over to suggest changes. The members were fully supportive, often teasing the two of them but always with good-natured humor.

But it wasn’t just the members of Stray Kids who noticed. The staff, the choreographers, and even some of the other artists who came in for recordings could feel the shift in the atmosphere whenever Y/N and Chan were together. The bond between them was undeniable.

And then, one afternoon, while the group was taking a short break, Y/N and Chan were caught in a moment of pure affection. As the group was chatting casually, Chan reached out to fix a stray lock of hair that had fallen over Y/N’s forehead. His fingers brushed against her skin, and their eyes locked for a split second. There was a quiet intimacy in the way they shared the look, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Jisung, who had been quietly observing, raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Okay, you two. We get it. You’re cute. But we’re trying to work here!”

Y/N and Chan both blushed, stepping apart quickly. “Sorry!” Y/N said, looking sheepish but also unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“I swear, if you guys get any more obvious, we’ll need to separate you two,” Hyunjin teased, his grin mischievous.

The teasing didn’t stop there, but Y/N and Chan couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between them now replaced with a shared sense of comfort.

The peaceful moments Y/N and Chan shared were soon overshadowed by the weight of an inevitable decision: the time had come to announce their relationship to the public. Their growing affection had long been impossible to hide from the people closest to them, but now it was a matter of whether they would control the narrative or let the media take charge of their story.

For the past few weeks, both had been grappling with the idea of how to approach it. They were aware of the scrutiny that came with being public figures, but they had also realized that their feelings for each other were too strong to keep hidden any longer. They needed to be honest—not only with the public, but with themselves.

Chan and Y/N sat on the couch late one evening, a blanket draped over their laps as they spoke in low voices, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air.

“So, it’s really time,” Y/N said, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of the blanket. Her heart raced, knowing that once they made the decision, there would be no turning back.

“Yeah,” Chan said softly, his hand finding hers, gently squeezing it. “I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from them. Not from us.” He met her eyes, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “We’re strong enough to handle whatever comes. We’ve been through too much together.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. “I know. It just feels... scary. The media, the fans... What if they don’t accept us?”

“I’ll be with you through it all,” Chan reassured her. “No matter what happens, I’ve got your back. We’ve got this.”

She leaned against him, her heart swelling with affection. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The day they decided to announce their relationship to the public arrived with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Y/N and Chan sat down with their managers, who had prepared a statement that would be shared with the fans and media. It was carefully crafted to be both respectful and clear, allowing them to express their feelings while maintaining some level of privacy.

Y/N’s hands shook slightly as she held the piece of paper with the statement, but Chan’s reassuring presence next to her calmed her nerves. They knew they had to be careful, but they also knew they couldn’t hide anymore.

As the time for the announcement drew near, the tension in the air was palpable. The members of Stray Kids had gathered in the living room, anxiously awaiting their friends' decision. The room was filled with murmurs of excitement, nervousness, and support. Everyone knew the significance of this moment.

“Are you two ready?” Bang Chan asked, his voice steady as he glanced at Y/N.

Y/N smiled weakly, her nerves evident. “I think so.”

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin said with a teasing grin. “We’ve got your back. Besides, we know you guys are perfect for each other.”

The others nodded in agreement, giving them words of encouragement.

With a deep breath, Y/N and Chan stood together, ready to face the world.

The official Stray Kids Twitter account shared the announcement:

“Hello, Stays! We wanted to take a moment to share something important with you all. Over the past few months,Bangchan and Y/N have developed a close and special relationship, one that we are very proud of. As their friends, we wanted to support them in their decision to go public. We ask for your understanding and respect as they embark on this new chapter. As always, we are grateful for your continued love and support. Thank you.”

The post went live, and the reactions were immediate. Within minutes, thousands of comments flooded in from fans. Some were ecstatic, expressing their joy and excitement for the couple. Others were surprised but supportive, appreciating the honesty. However, there were a few critics who voiced their concerns, questioning their relationship and what it meant for the group’s image.

On the Twitter Feed

“Oh my god, Bangchan and Y/N?! 😭💖 So happy for them! They’re so perfect together!”

“I can’t believe this is real! I’ve been shipping them for so long!!”

“Wishing them all the best! Love is real, and so is this ship 😍💑”

“What?? I never saw this coming, but I support them! #StayTrue”

“Wow, this is so sudden. Is this the best decision for them, though?”

“I don’t know if I can handle this. I just hope they’re ready for what comes next. It’s a lot of pressure for them...”

The mixed reactions didn’t surprise either of them. They had both prepared for the scrutiny that came with the territory of being idols, but they also knew that the love they shared was worth it. The most important thing was that they had each other—and the unwavering support of their friends.

As the evening wore on, Stray Kids sat together in the living room, following up on their announcement. They had been checking social media reactions all day, and while there was a lot of love and support, it was clear that the announcement had stirred up a lot of attention.

“Are you guys, okay?” Han asked, his eyes soft as he turned to Y/N and Chan.

Y/N nodded, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. “It’s a lot to process, but I think... we can handle it. I’m just glad we did it together.”

Chan smiled, his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “We’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what happens.”

The members of Stray Kids rallied around them, offering their words of encouragement and support.

“You two are amazing,” Han said, a big smile on his face. “You’ve got all of us behind you, and we’ve got you covered.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about a thing,” Hyunjin added. “We’re a team, and we’ll take on whatever comes together.”

The love and support from the group was overwhelming, and it made the weight of the situation feel a little lighter.

That night, as the group finally settled in to relax, Chan and Y/N found themselves alone in the living room once again. They sat together on the couch, the glow of the soft lamps casting a warm light across the room.

Y/N rested her head on Chan’s shoulder, her hand still tightly clasped in his.

“Do you think we did the right thing?” she asked quietly, her voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and hope.

Chan kissed the top of her head gently. “I do. We’re finally being honest. And that’s all that matters.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full of gratitude. “I love you, Chan.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. “And nothing is going to change that.”

And for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt a sense of peace. No matter what the world threw their way, she knew that as long as they had each other, they could face anything.

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Nineteen

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97

I walked into the building, smiling bright as the morning sun, ready to finish this work day already. After he left last night, Bucky promised that when he would come by tonight, he would stay the night. He had planned on telling Natasha that he had to go out of town for something mob related. 

There was already a list of things I had planned; dinner at home, a movie cuddled together on my couch, and a warm bath to end the night. It was something that we had yet to do, a proper at home date. 

My body jumped with excitement every time I thought about it. 

A frown pulled at my lips when I noticed that Bucky’s door had been closed. He didn’t have any meetings planned so there was no need for it to be shut. Bucky also always took his phone calls with the door opened. 

I placed my things on my desk and softly knocked on the door, only to be met with silence. The thought of if he was coming in today or not crossed my mind so I sent him a quick text. 

Are you not coming in today? 

Some time would pass before I would even get a response. Three hours to be exact. 

By the time Bucky had decided to text back, it was nearing lunch hour and I was busying myself to run to the deli across the road to pick us all up something. Steve and Sam were playing a card game on the couch that sat across from my desk and Steve noticed the worried look on my face. 

“Everything alright?” 

By the mere tone in his voice, I could tell that the relationship we shared was not the same anymore. 

“Yeah,” I mumbled, not bothering to take my eyes away from the text on my phone. 

I’m held up in my office all day, sorry.

It was short, to the point. No sweet names or cringey emojis that Bucky had just found out of. This wasn’t like him, something being different; off. 

Steve stood to walk over to me. “Bucky?” 

I peered over his shoulder to make sure Sam wasn't paying attention and nodded. 

“Have you talked to him at all? I feel as if he’s avoiding me,” I said. 

He hesitated, unsure if he should even say anything. I could see it in the way he avoided my gaze, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

Steve was hiding something from me. 

“What do you know?” I asked. 

“I can’t be the one to tell you, Y/N. Bucky has too.” 

With a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, he went back to his previous spot on the couch. 

I gnawed on my bottom lip while gazing at the still shut door to Bucky’s office and decided to give it one more try, seeing if he would talk to me. 

“Bucky, can I come in?” I asked after my knuckles tapped against the door. 

There was quite a bit of shuffling behind it and my heart hammered when the door opened, revealing a very stressed Bucky. 

My voice lowered. “Are you okay?” 

He nodded. “I’m going to skip lunch today.”

The door shut just as fast as it opened and I was left staring at it, tears brimming in my eyes. 

“Y/N,” Steve’s soft voice called from behind me. 

I blinked a few times, tears splattering over my cheeks, and quickly grabbed my things to head to lunch.

I don’t know what I did to make you so upset with me but I don’t appreciate the cold shoulder all day. I’m about to leave for the day and you’ve barely come out of your office.

I hit send on the text while walking back to my desk from the bathroom. The day went on at a slow pace, my eyes darting from my computer to Bucky’s still shut door, not once seeing him come out of his office. That was the third text I sent him all day and with yet no response, I decided that tonight was officially off the table. He would not be rewarded with spending the night with me after ghosting me all day. 

As I returned back to my desk, I noticed that the door was wide open, and my feet practically dragged me across the threshold. Until I stopped myself when I saw that he made no effort to look away from his phone when he heard me walk up. Not even a quick glance my way. 

“Asshole,” I grumbled, plopping into my chair. 

Six minutes. That’s all I had left of my work day and I could go home to wallow in self pity in private. 

I used that time to scroll through Instagram, not having the chance to be on it all day. My thumb froze over one post, almost unsure to like it or not, because everything around me faded to black. Ears rang loudly with white noise and my heart dropped to the depths of my stomach as it shattered. The pain caused a sob to leave my lips. 

Cannot wait to meet you baby Barnes. Coming in six months. 

My vision blurred from the tears that spilled everywhere but I still could see the picture Natasha had posted announcing her pregnancy. It was a picture of a positive pregnancy test with her and Bucky’s vibranium hand holding it. 

With a broken gaze, I looked over to him and was shocked that Bucky was already watching me. His own eyes were broken, tears pooling in the corners of them. 

“I’m so sorry, doll,” he mouthed. 

No words were able to form, my mouth had run dry. I didn’t know what to say, to be honest. All I could do was gather my things and storm out of the office, the door slamming behind me shaking the walls. 

The persistent knocking on my front door was becoming too hard to ignore, it going on for the last five minutes. In tangent with my phone ringing, not stopping for a second. I did my best to tune it all out, staring off into the void of my living room wall, wishing it would stop; wishing everything would stop. 

“Doll, please open up.” 

“Go away,” I yelled, the anger suddenly bubbling to life. 

“Please let me explain!” 

I scoffed while shaking my head, even if Bucky couldn’t see. “Explain?!” 

Everything I had been avoiding came rushing to the forefront when I heard him begging me to let him in, to explain his actions. 

My feet dragged me to the door and I opened it with such force, it created a small wind tunnel. Bucky didn’t bother waiting for me to let him in, he pushed himself past me. 

“I’m so sorr-.” 

His apology was cut off by a hard slap to his face, my palm already stung with redness. 

Bucky rubbed at the raw spot where I had hit him and his jaw tensed. “You hit me.” 

“Trust me, I want to do a lot more!” I seethed. 

“Can you calm down so I can explain?” He begged. 

“Calm down?!” My voice bellowed. “You get your wife pregnant, hide it from me, then come here to explain yourself? How the fuck can I calm down?!” 

My shoulder rammed into his as I walked past him and down the hall towards my bedroom. His footsteps that echoed down the hall told me that he was following me close behind. 

“I wanted to tell you, Y/N. All day I tried to come up with the best way,” Bucky said. 

I spun on my heels and pushed him hard in his chest, my actions doing nothing to deter him. 

“Fuck you, Barnes! You’re such a liar!” 

I began beating his chest with my fist, pure hatred fueling my momentum. And he stood there, taking every hit. 

Out of breath, I let my fists fall to my side, and felt my chest rise and fall each time I swallowed a large amount of air. 

“Feel better?” Bucky asked. 

My eyes narrowed. “Go fuck yourself. I never want to see you again.” 

His shoulders dropped. “You don’t mean that.” 

I nodded, even if I didn’t believe it myself. “Get out.” 

Bucky didn’t move so I pushed him harder in his chest. “Leave. Now!” 

“Doll-.” 

I smacked him yet again, this time with so much force he stumbled back onto my bed. 

“You lost the right to call me that, Bucky! I can’t believe I fell for your lies again.” 

I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “I allowed myself to ignore the red flags because I cared that much for you. I believed that you wanted me, wanted a future with me. I bet the divorce was a lie too.” 

Bucky vigorously shook his head. “I promise you. That was all true. Matt finished the papers this afternoon.” 

“When did it happen?” I abruptly asked. 

He hesitated, unsure how to answer. “A few months ago. It was the night I drove you home from work and we had sex in the back seat.” 

If my heart wasn’t in a million pieces before, it for sure was now. 

“You’re such a dick!” I screamed while pushing him down on my bed. “I knew you were still screwing her.” 

Bucky leaned his elbows onto his knees and held his head in his hands. “You don’t understand how terrible I feel, Y/N. I wish I could take it back.” 

I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand. “Are you still leaving her?” 

He gazed up at me, lips parting and eyes welling with tears. “I can’t. She’s having my child.” 

My eyes shut, his words giving me exactly what I needed to end this. 

I pointed towards the door. “We’re finished, Bucky. You need to leave.” 

He was fast on his feet to reach for me. “No, this doesn’t have to end.” 

“Yes it does!” I wailed. “It’s one thing to break up a marriage but I refuse to break up a family.” 

Both of us were crying, not bothering to stop or hide the tears, and Bucky wanted to reach for me, fight for me, but knew that there was no changing my mind. 

“What about work?” He asked with a glimmer of hope. 

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. “I can’t afford to quit. So I’ll see you next week. I need to take some time off.” 

Bucky nodded. “I didn’t want to hurt you, doll.” 

I grabbed my elbows, bringing my arms closer to my chest and avoiding his gaze, keeping my eyes trained to my feet. The only thing I could hear over his footsteps walking away from me was my broken cries, my body collapsing to the ground. 

[saffusthings]

chapter 2: you're on your own, kid

ceo!oscar piastri x reader

summary: the one where an opportunity arises.

word count: 1.3k

one | two | three

Oscar wasn’t reckless. Every decision he made, whether in business or in life, was careful, deliberate. So when she began to occupy more space in his thoughts than he was comfortable admitting, he decided to treat it like any of his other projects. Not emotionally - Oscar Piastri didn’t do emotional. 

Head over heart.

Always.

“Logan,” Oscar began one afternoon, his tone casual, as his assistant walked into the office. “What’s our updated status on next quarter’s internship positions?”

Logan, pulling up different tabs to cross-reference on his tablet, glanced up in confusion. “Internship positions? I thought we finalized those a few weeks ago. Everything’s locked in.”

“Remind me,” Oscar continued smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “Do we have any open spots in legal or compliance? Or plans to expand there?”

Logan furrowed his brow. “Not really. Legal’s been fully staffed for a while now. And compliance? We’re in a good place there too.”

Oscar nodded, his expression giving nothing away. “Fair. Still, it might be worth revisiting. Fresh talent brings fresh perspectives. Maybe we’ve overlooked an opportunity.”

Logan blinked at him for a second before shrugging. “Sure. I can ask HR to review our pipelines, if you’d like.”

“Please,” Oscar said, returning his attention to the file on his desk as if the matter were entirely routine.

But it wasn’t.

The opportunity came just a few days later, during one of Logan’s more casual updates.

“She’s absolutely buried with exams and applications right now,” Logan said, shaking his head as he popped the lid off his coffee. “I told her she doesn’t need to worry—every firm out there would be fighting to have her—but she’s still stressing over it.”

“Job applications?” Oscar echoed, feigning mild interest.

“Yeah,” Logan said, settling into the chair across from him. “She’s picky, though. Doesn’t want to just take the first offer that comes along. Wants somewhere she actually respects.”

“Smart,” Oscar commented, his tone neutral but his mind already working. “With her qualifications, she’d be an asset anywhere. Including here.”

Logan blinked at the suggestion, surprised. “Here? You mean this company?”

“Why not?” Oscar asked, shrugging slightly. “We’ve always prioritized talent over experience. If she’s looking for opportunities, it wouldn’t hurt to suggest she apply. From everything you’ve said, she sounds like the kind of candidate we should be keeping an eye on.”

Logan chuckled, though there was a flicker of intrigue in his expression. “She is brilliant, but I don’t know if this is her kind of place. She’s more interested in the big-picture side of law. Impactful work, that sort of thing.”

“Impactful work doesn’t have to mean the nonprofit sector,” Oscar replied. “The right role, the right mentorship—it’s all about showing someone the potential in places they might overlook.”

Logan frowned thoughtfully, nodding as he mulled it over. “You’ve got a point. I could mention it to her, see what she thinks.”

“Good,” Oscar said simply, turning his gaze back to his monitor.

Logan left a few moments later, clearly still considering the idea.

Oscar stayed seated, tapping his pen lightly against the edge of his desk. It wasn’t much—just a suggestion, an idea planted carefully—but it was enough to start. If Y/N ended up walking through the doors of this building, no longer just a fleeting encounter on a crowded street, it would be because he’d given her the option.

And Oscar Piastri understood the power of giving someone the right option at the right time.

She had been staring at the email on her laptop for what felt like an eternity.

The subject line read: Exciting Opportunity at McLaren Ltd!—a suggestion Logan had dropped in conversation a week ago and followed up with a link to the company’s career portal. At the time, she’d laughed it off, telling him it wasn’t her kind of thing. 

Corporate law? No, thanks.

But now, the cursor blinked at her as if daring her to reconsider.

She sighed, leaning back against the worn cushions of the couch in her quaint apartment. The place wasn’t much—hardly bigger than a shoebox—but it was hers. Her space. The one thing she controlled in a life that sometimes felt like it wasn’t really her own.

The sound of her phone buzzing against the coffee table cut through the silence. She didn’t need to check the screen to know who it was.

“Y/N,” her mother’s voice crackled through the speaker when she answered. “We need to talk.”

Here we go again.

Her mother didn’t waste time. “Your father and I have been discussing things. It’s time you stopped fooling around. You’re graduating soon—what are you going to do with all this law nonsense? Where’s the money? Where’s the stability?”

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. “I told you, I’m applying to firms. I’m figuring it out—”

Her mother’s sharp laugh cut her off. “Figuring it out? You’re almost twenty-two, Y/N. By this age, your cousins were either married or already contributing to their families. And you? Still playing student. Still living in that… tiny apartment. It’s embarrassing.”

Her father’s voice joined in the background, muffled but unmistakably critical. “Tell her to stop chasing dreams and start being practical. A real job or a real husband. One or the other.”

The familiar knot tightened in Y/N’s stomach. “I’m not having this conversation again,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You don’t have a choice,” her mother snapped. “Do you think we can keep helping you forever? The money’s tight as it is. Your brother’s college is coming up, and we need every penny.”

Y/N’s grip on the phone tightened. “I never asked for your money,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’ve been supporting myself.”

“For now,” her mother said bitterly. “But how long will that last? Face it, Y/N. You need us more than you think.”

The call ended with her mother muttering something about how ungrateful she was.

Y/N sat there for a long moment, staring at her phone.

By the next morning, the idea of McLaren Ltd. wasn’t just a suggestion anymore—it was the only card left to play.

Y/N hesitated before dialing Logan’s number. The thought of taking this job still didn’t sit right with her. It certainly wasn’t what she wanted. But it was a job, and a damn good one at that, with a reputable company and better yet, an actual paycheck. If she could get her foot in the door, it might buy her the time she needed to figure out what she did want without her parents breathing down her neck.

Before she could psych herself out any further, she pressed the call button.

“Hey, Y/N!” Logan answered, his voice chipper. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Logan,” she said, forcing some brightness into her tone. “Um, about that position you mentioned… at McLaren?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure! Have you thought about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, her fingers flicking non-existent dust off the fabric of her pants. “I think… I think I’d like to apply. If the offer’s still open, that is.”

Logan laughed. “Dude, for you? Of course. It’s still open. I told you—you’d be perfect for it. I can help you with the application if you want. I’ll even put in a good word with HR.”

Her chest tightened at his enthusiasm, but she managed a small smile. “Thanks, Logan. That means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re going to kill it,” he said confidently. 

Logan seemed to believe it enough for the both of them.

As she hung up, she glanced at the email on her laptop again, this time with a mix of determination and resignation. She wasn’t doing this for her parents. Or for Logan, great as he was.

She was doing it because, for once, she needed something to work out—something she could call her own. Even if it wasn’t the perfect fit, it was a start. And maybe, just maybe, it would lead her somewhere she never expected.

[nanaslutt]

<3toji helping reader who has a hard time finishing

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“stop fuckin holding your breath.” toji scolds, narrowing his eyes at you from between your thighs. he’s been eating you out for twenty minutes now and not once has slowed down. he’s wasn’t deterred when you told him you’re a bit slow to… finish, but you can’t help but feel bad you’re taking so long. anytime you feel yourself about to crash, you hold your breath and get too excited, and the orgasm fizzles away.

“i’m sorry i-“

toji shuts you up by slapping your cunt with an open palm. you gasp, eyes wide as you stare at him between your thighs. “get out of your head and let me make you cum.”

toji kisses your clit and starts moving his fingers inside you again, slowly thrusting in and out, turning your brain to mush. “i…” your lips part, “i feel bad, i feel like im taking too long.”

toji groans dramatically, the sound making the muscles in your legs bunch when it stimulates your clit. “shut up, i’m here to help you with that so if you’d get out of your fucking head,” he emphasizes the word, “and focus on how good your body feels, how good this feels-.” he sucks your clit into his mouth, lashing at it with his tongue making you gasp before he pulls back. “then you’d be able to cum, but you can’t do that if you think ur taking too long.”

“you really don’t mind?”

toji almost smiles then, watching your reaction when he curls his fingers upwards, rubbing your sweet spot. he’s smiles when your eyes roll back in your head. “does it look like i mind? huh? am i eating your pussy like i fucking mind how long you take to cum?”

you shake your head, and he sticks his tongue out while smiling, toying your clit with the tip of his tongue. “then shut.” lick “up.”

his lips are back on you then, sucking the little bundle of nerves into his mouth. his tongue runs up and down your pussy, alternating between toying around where his fingers are stuffed inside you and lavishing your clit.

you feel the warmth tingle the back of ur spine, and gasp. tojis words follow ur reaction, mumbled against you like he could barely stand to pull away. “hold ur breath and i’ll kill you.”

ur gasping, whining, gripping his hair so hard he’s grunting and you would feel bad about it if your orgasm wasn’t so fucking close.

your legs start to shake and toji starts making desperate sounds against you, rutting his hips into the bed while eyeing you like the determined man he is.

then- ur falling off that ledge. blinding heat coarse thought ur veins, shaking ur body uncontrollably, and ur helpless to the pleasure as toji continues eating u out like a man starved, grunting while lapping up the release he earned.

you wince when he sucks ur over sensitive clit way too hard one last time before pulling away. his mouth and chin is covered in your release, his lips are swollen and his pupils are blown, but he has a purely satisfied expression on his handsome face. “see how easy that was?”

youre still reeling from the fact anyone actually made u came that you don’t even respond. you just throb when toji pulls out his fingers and sucks your release from them. he pops them out of his mouth with a loud sound. “worth every fucking second too. think you can give me another one?”

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+

“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.

satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.

“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.

you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.

“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.

it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.

you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.

walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.

“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.

you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.

“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.

you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.

you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’

before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;

“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.

the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.

once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”

the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.

“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”

the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.

“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”

a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.

every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.

“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.

he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”

your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.

you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.

“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.

you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.

“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.

your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.

“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”

satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”

you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”

you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.

“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.

you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.

he wants to give you more. more, more, more.

without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.

though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”

satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.

“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.

satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,

you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.

his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.

“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”

you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”

it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.

“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.

satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”

you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.

satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.

his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.

you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.

��g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.

just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.

you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.

you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.

a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.

you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.

it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.

satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.

however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”

“satoru!”

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.

Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.

“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.

Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.

He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.

“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.

“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.

“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”

Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.

“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.

“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.

A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.

“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.

“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”

Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.

“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.

Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.

“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”

Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.

“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.

“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”

(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON ⟢ mini boyfriend

x FEM!reader ⟢ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: rafe doens't realise your mini boyfriend is actually your sonny angel

WORD COUNT: 1802

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: /

‘he may bring you happiness’

it was your anniversary, and rafe had been surprisingly sweet about it all day. he’d planned dinner at your favorite restaurant, bought you flowers that were still sitting pretty on your desk, and was now lying on your bed while you got ready in the bathroom.

the sound of the shower running filled the room, steam creeping out from under the bathroom door. rafe had been patient for a while, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, but your phone buzzing on the nightstand kept pulling his attention.

he ignored it the first few times. he knew you got a lot of notifications, and most of the time, they weren’t urgent. but after the fifth buzz in under two minutes, he couldn’t resist anymore.

“what the hell is so important?” he muttered, reaching for your phone.

he unlocked it quickly—he knew your passcode, and you never cared if he used it. the messages were from sarah, which made him pause. his sister wasn’t exactly someone he thought would be texting you on your anniversary.

he clicked the notification, and the messages popped up.

rafe froze, staring at the screen. “mini boyfriend?” he said out loud, his jaw tightening. what the hell was sarah talking about? who was she talking about?

his mind immediately went to the worst. sure, you were dating him, but rafe knew how people saw you—sweet, funny, way too good for a guy like him. he didn’t think you’d cheat, but this? it didn’t sound great.

he tapped the screen, about to scroll up, when he heard the water shut off in the bathroom. panicking, he put the phone back down where he found it.

rafe flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to pretend like he hadn’t just seen that. but the words mini boyfriend kept replaying in his mind, eating away at him.

meanwhile, your screen was still lighting up with messages.

dinner was perfect. well, almost. the table was beautiful, the food was amazing, and rafe looked so good in the crisp white button-up you loved. but something about him felt… off. he wasn’t being cold—actually, he was softer than usual. maybe too soft.

he pulled out your chair for you, asked if your wine was okay twice, and kept checking in on you in a way that felt less like boyfriend-y attentiveness and more like guilt.

you tried to shake it off. maybe he was just nervous—it was your anniversary, after all.

but when the waiter cleared the dessert plates and you leaned closer to tease him about stealing your crème brûlée, he barely cracked a smile.

“babe,” you said softly, resting your hand over his. “what’s wrong?”

he blinked at you, as if caught off guard, and quickly shook his head. “nothing. nothing’s wrong,” he said, but his knee bounced under the table, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“rafe,” you pressed, squeezing his hand. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” he said quickly, then ran a hand through his hair. “just—here.”

before you could say anything else, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small turquoise box, the iconic white ribbon tied perfectly around it.

your breath caught in your throat. “rafe…”

“it’s not a big deal,” he said quickly, sliding the box across the table to you. “i mean, if you don’t like it, i can get you something else. something better. more expensive.”

your hands were shaking as you picked it up, untying the ribbon with a mix of nerves and excitement. the second you opened the box and saw the delicate tiffany & co. bracelet inside, your heart stopped.

it was the bracelet. the one you’d shown him months ago in passing, not thinking for a second that he’d actually remember.

“rafe,” you whispered, your voice cracking as tears welled up in your eyes.

“what?” he asked, watching you carefully. “is it okay? i didn’t know if you still liked it or—”

“are you kidding?” you interrupted, looking up at him with watery eyes. “i love it. i’ve wanted this forever.”

for the first time all night, he let out a small laugh, his shoulders relaxing. “yeah?”

you nodded quickly, slipping the bracelet onto your wrist and holding it up to admire it. “it’s perfect.”

he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“rafe, baby, what’s wrong?” you asked, lowering your hand to hold his.

he hesitated, staring down at the table for a moment before finally shaking his head. “nothing. as long as you’re happy, i’m good.”

but you could tell there was more to it. and as much as you wanted to press him, you didn’t. not yet. because tonight wasn’t about whatever was going on in his head. tonight was about the two of you.

rafe’s grip on the steering wheel was loose, his eyes fixed on the road as you leaned back in the passenger seat, admiring your bracelet under the glow of the streetlights.

“can we stop by john b’s real quick?” you asked, breaking the silence.

he glanced at you, a little confused. “why?”

“i just need to pick something up,” you said vaguely, trying not to give anything away.

his jaw tightened for a split second—he still wasn’t entirely sure what sarah’s texts earlier had been about, and hearing john b’s name wasn’t exactly helping—but he nodded. “yeah, okay.”

the drive was quiet, the tension in the car lingering just under the surface. when you finally pulled into the chateau’s driveway, you hopped out before rafe even had a chance to kill the engine.

“i’ll be quick!” you called over your shoulder, disappearing inside.

quick turned into ten minutes. then fifteen.

rafe leaned back in the driver’s seat, drumming his fingers on the wheel as he waited.

inside, you were crouched on the floor of sarah’s room, your excitement bubbling over as she showed you her latest unboxings.

“i got the cow one!” she squealed, holding up the tiny figurine.

“oh my god,” you laughed, carefully holding the one you’d just picked up. it was perfect—exactly what you’d been hoping for. you turned it over in your hands, smiling at the idea of giving it to rafe. he always rolled his eyes whenever you gushed about how fun they were, but you knew he secretly loved the way you lit up when you talked about them.

you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

“okay, i really have to go,” you said, stuffing the tiny box into your bag and standing up.

sarah smiled. “have fun giving that one to him.”

you waved at her, laughing as you left.

back in the car, rafe glanced at you as you climbed into the passenger seat. “what took you so long?”

“sorry,” you said, trying to sound casual as you shoved your bag under your seat. “sarah was just showing me something.”

he raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. instead, he pulled out of the driveway, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“you good now?” he asked, glancing at you.

“yep,” you said, trying to hide your excitement as you thought about the little surprise waiting for him.

back at tannyhill, you practically pulled rafe inside by the hand, practically buzzing with excitement. he trailed behind you, still a little lost in his own thoughts, but he followed because, well, that’s just how it always was between you two.

“okay,” you said, leading him to the couch and gently nudging him to sit down. “sit down. i’ve got a surprise for you.”

he raised an eyebrow. “a surprise? for me?”

“yes, for you,” you said, grinning as you reached into your bag and pulled out the tiny, wrapped box. “since, you’ve been giving to give me a lot of things, this one’s for you.”

rafe shifted, looking a little hesitant. “babe, i told you. you don’t have to give me anything. you shouldn't waste your money on me. you’re the one i’m supposed to spoil.”

you rolled your eyes, holding the little box behind your back. “it’s not expensive, i promise.”

he gave you a skeptical look. “if you say so.”

“now close your eyes,” you urged, a little giddy.

he sighed dramatically but complied, his eyelids falling shut as he settled back into the couch. “this better not be another trick,” he muttered.

“it’s not a trick, i swear,” you said, trying not to giggle. you handed him the little box, gently placing it in his hands.

“okay, open them,” you said softly.

rafe blinked down at the box in his hands, looking genuinely confused. “what is this?” he asked, turning it over a couple of times.

“just open it,” you said, eyes sparkling with excitement.

with a slight frown, he ripped off the wrapping paper, revealing a familiar-looking box. his eyes flickered up to meet yours, confusion still clear on his face. “isn’t this what you have all over your room?”

you grinned widely. “yep! and now, you have your very first mini boyfriend.”

rafe’s expression softened, his confusion shifting into a look of relief, then amusement. “wait, hold on. my mini boyfriend?”

“yep!” you beamed. “remember how you always said you didn’t get why I liked them so much? now you can try it for yourself. i thought you’d enjoy it.”

rafe blinked at the box, then at you. the whole situation seemed to settle into his brain, and a small laugh escaped him.

the entire time he thought you’d been seeing someone on the side.

“exactly,” you said, practically glowing with excitement. “isn’t he cute?”

he stared at the little box for a moment, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he carefully opened it. the tiny figurine—a pig—sat there, innocently smiling up at him.

“oh… it’s a pig?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “you really mean mini boyfriend, huh?”

“yep,” you laughed, leaning into him. “a very cute mini boyfriend.”

rafe shook his head, still chuckling softly. “i thought for sure it was some guy or something. i wasn’t expecting… this.”

you beamed up at him, the look of joy in your eyes uncontainable. “see? it’s fun, right? i knew you’d like it.”

rafe leaned back, still holding the figurine, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. “honestly, this is kinda… adorable. you’re ridiculous, but i get it now.”

“i told you,” you teased. “it’s just fun. and now you have your very own mini boyfriend.”

rafe chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “you’re lucky i’m crazy about you, or i’d say this whole mini boyfriend thing is weird.”

you smiled up at him, glad to see the look of genuine happiness in his eyes as he inspected his tiny pig figurine. despite the weirdness, he was enjoying it. and that made everything worth it.

“why can you see his d-”

[manmuncher777]

Roommate!Gojo who sends you off on your date with a pang of jealousy ripping its way through his body. Why couldn’t you be dressing up like that to spend the night with him. He knew you were excited, this was the most you’d dressed up in a long time, your hair sitting do perfect after the hours he watched you spend on it. The outfit you chose showing your figure in a way that had him clenching a fist, trying not to reach out and let his fingers dance over your exposed skin. That intoxicating perfume filling his nose as he stood so close, wishing you a good night before the door finally shut, and the only trace left behind was the small waves of your sweet scent still lingering in the air

Roommate!Gojo who is confused when he hears your keys in the door just 2 hours later, he wasnt even expecting you back tonight.

Roommate!Gojo rushing to your side when he sees your pretty face puffed up with tears, concern lacing his tone. Utter joy racing through him in reality, but he was still sad to see you so upset

Roommate!Gojo who listened to youn blubber and rant about how this was your first date in a long time and how you just wanted a nice night. He listened to you rant about how much an asshole the guy was all while stoking your hair and kissing your head as you sat wrapped up in his arms

Roommate!Gojo who almost died then and there when he heard you complain how men were shit and you “just wanted to get laid”

“that might be something I can help with gorgeous” he whispered before anything could stop him, His reaction basically automatic

Roommate!Gojo who had your crying for a nothing reason a few moment later as he was burying himself between heaven you thighs. Hot tears streamed down your face as the mans thick tongue worked his way through your folds, playing with your little bundle of nerves. Small whimpers leaving his throat as your taste made him rock hard. His hands gripping your thighs, keeping them spread wide for him so he could see you in all your glory “Pretty girl, if you were needing to cum all you had to do was ask me” his syrupy voice rang out in your fucked out head in between his vulgar licks of your dripping cunt “That asshole didnt deserve to see you so pretty” he whispered into your cunt. “I had half a mind to drag you back in a fuck you against the door seeing you dressed like that”

His words rippling over your, breaking you more and more. You had no choice but to listen to him as he teased and taunted you.

You couldn’t even bother yourself to respond, not after his fingers slid into your cunt so easily, the squelch of your wetness echoing in the room.

Roommate!Gojo who couldn’t wait to get his throbbing cock inside that needy little pussy of yours. He’d thought of this moment for months and he wasn’t quite sure how it was actually happening.

Roommate!Gojo who had you naked and spread over his bed right now, looking at your fucked out features. Your skin laced with sweat, your hair still beautifully framing face, those tits hed spent so many night imagining while he fucked his fist now open for him to see, all marked from his touch. That beautiful cunt of yours dripping from the orgasms he had already pulled out of it, and yet you were still begging him for more

“please Satoru, I need you” you whined so sweetly beneath him and he teased his red leaking tip through your folds, coating himself I your slick. He soothed you, kissing your head gently “It’s okay pretty girl, ill give you whatever you need” he promised before lining himself up with your fluttering entrance and sinking himself deep inside.

The moan that left him was sinful as he bottomed out inside of you, you felt amazing wrapped around his cock, even better then he imagined.

Roommate!Gojo who couldn’t hold himself back for long, soon he was pistoning himself in and out of your sopping pussy, moaning incoherently abut how good you felt. You were more then happy to lay there and take every inch, every thrust he was giving you. Your mind so far gone you couldn’t do much more then whimper and moan and every move he made, his thick cock hitting that delicious part of your velvety walls with every stroke. Your eyes rolling back as your nails dragged red lines down his back

“There she is, theres my pretty girl” “cant believe all you needed was a good fucking sweetheart, all you had to do was ask” “been thinking about this tight little pussy for ages” “come on baby, take it, this is what you where begging for” “such a good girl for me, taking it so well” “awh, you like this don’t you? filthy girl”

Roommate!Gojo who was a stuttering mess, his head falling into your shoulders as his hips never stopped their brutal pace, his balls slapping against you with each thrust. It wasnt long before he had you cumming again that night. Your wall squeezing him tight as you flooded his perfect skin with you juices. You could do nothing but moan his name, so sweetly in his ear that his orgasm hit him as well. His balls tightening as he fucked him cum deep into you. His pushing himself deeper with each finishing thrust. A deep groan coming from his chest as his hips faultered and finally stopped. Both of you lying there, panting.

“next time you need a good fuck princess, let me know” he whispered into you ear

You wouldve hit the smug bastard if you werent so sure that you would be taking him up on his offer again the next day

[rafesangelita]

♡ cowboy!rafe always snuck into farmer's!daughter!reader's room to give her a goodnight kiss.. but what happens when their innocent little kiss turns into something much more?

warnings: sweet fluff, flirty banter, brief flashback, daddy kink lol, sneaking around, unprotected sex, dirty talk, rafe covering your mouth, crying, overstimulation

a/n: i’ll be opening req’s soon! lately here i’ve been wanting to get out some of my own prompts since over half of my works are all req’s.. but i’m excited to see what you girlies send me! find more of farmer’s!daughter!reader and cowboy!rafe here <3

wc: 1.2k

“open up, doll face.” you sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as rafe lightly tapped on your window. he made you so giddy, you scrambled up from the warmth of your sheets, unlocking the hatch before helping him climb in. “i thought you weren’t coming..” you whispered, pouting up at him as he snickered. “y’gotta have faith in me, sweetheart. when have i missed a goodnight’s kiss?” rafe cupped your face, both of you smiling against each other’s lips before melting into one another.

you always felt so warm and fuzzy inside when you and rafe got to share your secret little moments together, the simplicity of just being together without having to worry about someone catching you two made both of your hearts swell. rafe knew how to sweep you off your feet with a single kiss, a string of giggles tumbling from your mouth as he not-so-quietly threw you onto your bed. “rafe!” you scolded him, your heart beating in your ears as he slotted himself between your thighs.

“my daddy is next door! what if he hears..” you slapped his chest playfully, the man above you arching a brow. “daddy? i thought i was your daddy.” your cheeks heated in embarrassment when you recalled the quickie you two had in the barn not too long ago. rafe had you bent over a hay bale, his thrusts making you unable to speak until he asked you the golden question.

“hmmph! fuckin’ say it. tell me what i wanna hear, who’s your fuckin’ daddy?”

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, rafe smiled as he shook his head down at you. “you just thought about it, didn’t you?” snapping you out of your flashback daze, you laughed when he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the column of your throat. he smelled like soap, the slight stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin. as if your hips had a mind of their own, you grinded your clothed cunt against rafe’s thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the lack of friction.

“hey,” rafe cupped your tits through your flimsy night top, “you thought i wasn’t coming tonight, right? that’s what you said.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion before a gasp slipped from your mouth. “yes..” rafe trailed a hand underneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. “so why don’t you have any panties on?” you froze, eyes flickering down to where rafe ran a finger between your folds. keening, you couldn’t help the moan from leaving your lips.

rafe stared at you for a moment, his eyes growing dark as he clamped a hand over your mouth. “i’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. ‘think you can stay quiet for me?” of course you couldn’t.. and rafe knew that. you stared at him with wide eyes, butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he took himself out of his pants. “i mean it. we don’t want your old man chasing me down with that shotgun of his, now do we?” you shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt the head of his cock prod at your entrance.

you shrieked, his hips rolling into yours as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt. if it wasn’t for rafe’s hand muffling your scream you’re sure both of you would be in deep trouble right now. rafe rested his head on your pillow, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he started thrusting. feeling his weight on top of you like this had easily become your favorite thing, the closeness of it all made your heart sing. “fuck, i could never get used to this.. ‘feels like the first time all the time.” he grunted.

you held onto his wrist, your thighs hugging his waist as he kissed the side of your face. “taking me so fuckin’ good, you were made for me, yeah?” you whined, your eyes watering as rafe continuously hit that soft spot inside of you. your headboard started hitting the wall, a smirk gracing your boyfriend’s features. “rafe!” you whispered, tearing his hand away from your face. “s-slow down!” you attempted to push him away while simultaneously trying to keep your noises to yourself.

rafe picked up his pace, wrapping a hand around your throat. “can’t..” you shook your head, your chest rising and falling as the knocking of your headboard only got louder. rafe cursed under his breath when you cried out, working fast to get you turned over so he could push your head into the pillows. “what did i tell you?!” he scolded, landing a smack to your ass. you didn’t have any time to react to the stinging sensation on your backside, your orgasm washing over you once rafe started stroking your clit.

you fisted the sheets underneath you, biting down on your lip as white hot pleasure blinded your vision. rafe made no attempt to soothe you, instead he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling you up as he nipped at the sensitive skin in the curve of your neck. “sweetheart?” you gasped when your father’s voice sounded from the other side of your bedroom door. you cleared your throat, frozen in place as your door knob rattled. “answer him.” rafe spoke in your ear, his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

“what?!” you stammered, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as rafe continued to rub hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “answer him or i’ll make you scream.” you wanted to shoot a sassy ‘you already did’, but you didn’t dare chance it. your chin wobbled, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. “y-yes?!” you called out, glaring at rafe over your shoulder when the sound of his hips slamming into you bounced off of the walls. “you alright in there?” you bit the back of your hand, your head falling weakly.

“is this a girl thing or somethin’, should i call your aunt?” your cheeks heated, a chuckle sounding from the man behind you. “no! i’m o-okay!” rafe pulled your hair again, his lips close to your ear as he whispered the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard. “what would your pops think, huh? catching his perfect little angel getting fucked like this..” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your knees slipping out from under you when rafe pushed you flat on your sheets.

“alright.. goodnight!” you ignored your father’s voice, the only thing your brain allowing you to process was rafe cumming inside of you, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your hips. “shittt,” he hissed, “son of a— fuck!” it was his turn to cover his mouth, his muscles constricting as you practically milked him for all he had. you reveled in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up, the thick ropes still connecting you two even after he pulled out.

you sighed, both you and rafe panting in the small space that was your room. “you okay, doll?” rafe kneeled down at your side, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips. blinking at him, you nodded before pulling him next to you. “it’s really late..” you yawned, glancing at the little clock on your bedside table. “i know.” rafe grumbled. there was nothing he hated more than having to leave you like this. wrapping his arms around your waist, rafe waited until you fell asleep before slipping out of your window again.

[abbyslovergirlxo]

Intrusion

Sevika x Ambessa x Reader

Word count: 3.9k

synopsis; You, the pretty enforcer are tasked with retrieving very important documents from none other than Lead Commander Ambessa Merdarda. Sounds rather easy, until you see Silco’s right hand woman bent over her desk.

(Tw; dom!Ambessa, softdom!Sevika, wlw, overstimulation, degradation, enforcer!reader, strap on, sex, biting, sub!reader, sub!Sevika, crying)

Song: Love is a bitch, Two face

Side note: lmk if you guys like this and I’ll do another ambessa/sevika one shot. tbh I’m obsessed with them so I’ll probably drop it anyways lol. Also I’ve never watched the show so if anything is inaccurate don’t hate me, the characters are just fine shit. Anyways, hope u enjoy 🫶

When you first walked into the tall building, you hadn’t expected today to be such a troublesome one. Your commanding officer has tasked you with retrieving a few important documents from Lead Commander, Ambessa Merdarda. When given the task you did well to hide your excitement but nonetheless it was there. You had seen Ambessa, as an enforcer she was starting to become a regular face to be greeted by. But you’d never come close to her and the idea of that was intoxicating. You’d heard rumors about her, the war lord who never took no for an answer and never knew defeat. You’d admired her, her ruthlessness made her one of the most praised women in the world. One day you’d hoped to become as renowned as her. Knowing it was wrong and out of turn, you wondered if you’d be able to ask her a few questions about her strategies when you made it to her office.

The walls were decorated with precise and intricate details. White and blue and gold peeked all over. Sunlight peered in through the huge windows, everything about it screamed luxury. You nodded your head off to the guards posted at the large grand doors that led to the wing with Ambessa’s office.

Your heart jumped out of your chest over and over as you neared that golden and blue door. But you found courage once you reached it, letting off two swift knocks. Silence was all that met you. You decided to be a bit patient, not wanting to barge in. But as the minutes passed you remembered your commander's voice in the back of your head, pestering you about just how important it was that you got them.

Minutes kept slipping so with a slight irritation slipping over you, you respectively knocked two more times. There was a bit more force behind it this time but respectful of course. More silence was accompanied by it. You bit your lip, anxious and worried.

You knew that it wasn’t your fault that the Lead Commander hadn’t answered despite it being known that she was in her office. But you also knew the higher ups rarely cared about ‘excuses’ like such. If you were lucky you’d get chewed out in front of your comrades.

Usually you took any consequences head on, no matter how obscene, like the good soldier you were. But something made your stomach churn to delay the delivery of something of such urgency. You took a deep breath, telling yourself that she’ll understand.

I ’m not knocking the door down or anything, she won’t mind…just open the door

You tried to have your thoughts aid your anxieties and it almost worked until you remembered the scowl on her face a week earlier when a fellow enforcer had approached her disrespectfully. Just the remembrance of such a glare sent shivers down your spine.

Somewhat cowardly, you decided to suck up whatever would inevitably be thrown at you when you showed up with no papers. Disappointed, you put your head down, ready to turn.

Until a muffled groan slipped past the confines of the large door. If it hadn’t been for how observant you were, you undoubtedly would’ve missed it. But upon hearing it you flinched. Worry and fear overtook at the idea of what it could’ve been.

Was Ambessa ok? Had someone slipped into her office and hurt her? Is that why she couldn’t come to the door?

Without so much as a second thought, you bolted through the door, gun raised and finger steady over the trigger.

Any heroism brewing inside of you preparing to ‘save the day’ instantly dissipates. The scene in front of you was so lewd that you couldn’t do anything besides immediately re-holster your gun and attempt to leave. Unfortunately the attempt was halted, the panting voice of Ambessa reaching you.

“ Close the door. Turn around.”

For a second, you let your mind roam over the possibilities this could end with. You cursed yourself for your listening skills, wishing you’d never heard that noise in the first place. You remembered your comrades talking about some rather obscene things they’ve walked in on and they found pretending worked best.

In a last ditch effort, you kept your eyes pointed at the large door. Hand still clutching the handle.

“ I was simply coming to retrieve the documents for Commander Brinman. I apologize for my intrusion, due to the noise, I assumed there was trouble. I will take my leave immediately and return to retrieve them later today if able, Commander Merdarda.”

You heard a chuckle followed by a whine to which you presumed was the brown skinned woman bent over the table, the ones whose legs shook slightly…

You shook your head slightly, cursing yourself once again for the blush that crept on your face.

“ I didn’t ask you for any of that information, little one. Close the door and turn around. That’s an order.”

Desperately you let out one last attempt. Your voice came out weak this time, that soldier formality leaving you.

“ I promise you, Commander Merdarda, that absolutely nothing that has taken place in this office today shall leave it. I swear it.”

“ Well I could’ve told you that. You don’t seem the chatty type, clearly not the listening type either… I won’t repeat myself on my previous orders.”

Her voice sounded less patient this time, so reluctantly you closed the door. The loud click sounded throughout the room, and not a moment after you turned your body to face them. Embarrassment settled on your face as you still refused to actually look, your eyes trained at the floor.

“ Eyes up here, don’t be so rude.”

The moment you looked up, she was already staring at you. Your chest rose and fell a bit faster upon seeing the sight, again. Ambessa stood proudly, muscles and chest exposed for you to see. And though her counterpart did also seem to have muscle you immediately deduced that she wasn’t in the same state Ambessa was. Her hair fell over her face, pants crumpled around her ankles as she lay there, still shaking.

Ambessa smiled at you, but it was clear that it wasn’t a friendly one.

“ Look, we have a guest. Have some manners, or do you undercity dogs not have any of those?”

The harshness yet playfulness in her tone made you shift your legs slightly, still staring at Ambessa. The woman beneath her simply grumbled something but you didn’t catch it. It was hard when your heartbeat was thrumming out of your ears practically.

Ambessa rolled her eyes, using her large hand to tug at the hair of the woman. Another grumble left her, this time clearly more strangled. Guiding her head to look up at you, you nearly collapsed onto the floor upon seeing her face. Sure a few strands still protected her but you’d know that face anywhere.

Any enforcer would. Sevika, Silcos right hand woman. Instantly you scrunch your face up at the sight, luckily Ambessa was nice enough to drop her head back onto the desk, of course not before she forced a ‘hello’ out of her.

“ What to do with you now, hm?”

That question alone was enough for you to not care that Noxus’s Lead Commander was fucking a known criminal in her office, worried about your own fate.

“ Like I said, Commander, I’ve seen nothing. I’ll say nothing.”

She frowned, almost as if she was bored by such a response.

“ I thought we already discussed that. I think you’d be much more interesting with all those clothes off.”

The blush you fought so hard to keep down came back with a vengeance. You stammered over your words but nothing actually came out. You peered over at Sevika, noticing that Ambessa was in fact still inside of her.

“ C-commander… I’m a s-soldier…”

“ Soldiers don’t like getting fucked?”

Your insides boiled at the thought. Your mind fed you images of your legs open, trembling like Sevikas, Ambessa large hands able to reach every and anywhere. It should’ve made you recoil, have you running out of the office and shouting for anyone nearby to come and see the ungodly actions happening in this very room. But it didn’t. It made your breath hitch. Desire pounced at you over and over. You’d always been trained to be the perfect, obedient, and efficient soldier. But there was nothing perfect about the way you gave in so easily to that little voice inside of your head.

You’d be lying if you said everything about the sight of them didn’t make your knees weak. You’d always preferred women but there were no women like Sevika and Ambessa where you’d come from. The disgust you felt for that Zaunite hunched over that desk held no weight against your attraction for her.

“ Well, child, what’ll be?”

“ Nobody will find out…right?”

Ambessa smiled evilly at the question. Yet she ignored it all together. She knew you were going to strip anyway. She knew it the moment you locked the door on your own will, she’d never told you to do that. And oh how she loved the look on your face as you accepted your situation, deciding that Ambessa was never going to give you such security in her answer.

Slowly but carefully you tugged at your clothes. Something Ambessa also hadn’t instructed. She held back a sly comment, picking up on how eager you were. And she didn’t miss the way Sevika clenched around her suddenly, as she watched you strip off the rest of your clothes. You hadn’t noticed either of their staring but god did you feel it.

If your parents were here they’d be so disappointed in you, hands trembling as you showcase your bare body to two women who looked like they were looking at dinner. But you had no space to harbor such a thought, not when Ambessas braid swung slightly, beckoning you over. You moved swiftly, that certain soldier walk about you.

“ Quite nice…”

Ambessa shamelessly checked you out, her eyes lingering concerningly long on your breast. You simply shrink beneath her gaze, her very presence demanding authority. And you saw no reason to grant her anything other than that.

“ How lucky I am, I’ll have to thank Brinman for sending such a pretty one. Alright Sevika, be a little useful for once. Make sure to devour her properly.”

“ Lay down for me then, pretty.”

You’d never heard her voice before. You hadn’t expected it to sound so enticing. Her low eyes and hanging hair made you desperate to be devoured, even if it was by a criminal. You nodded quickly, nervously laying on the desk, your pretty legs spread in front of a bent over Sevika. Ambessa pressed the strap deeper inside at the sight of it causing Sevika to grip the table. The sight the Wolf had infront of her made her want to eat you both alive. From her view she could see everything, your nervous face as Sevika trailed kisses up your thigh, Sevikas sweaty back exposed and flexing as she moved about. She also couldn’t miss the way your cunt clenched around nothing as the Zaunite got closer to that spot that you really needed to be touched.

As planned, the moment Sevika finally did start licking vigorously at your clit, Ambessa started her thrust back up again. Her pace was brutal, even you could tell despite the loud whines that slipped past your mouth. Sevika moaned aggressively into you, not able to contain herself.

“ Look at you two, filthy.”

“ o-oh god…commander–”

You moaned out for Ambessa despite the intense eye contact you held with Sevika. Her grey eyes bore into yours and you worried that alone might get you off faster. If Sevika had a piece of sanity left she would’ve told you to say her name, moan it out in that pornographic tone of yours. But Ambessa was ruthless, hitting her in all the right places. And this pace was no issue for her, her stamina was horrid and she had no signs of fatigue. Sevika trembled and pushed against her rhythmically, not wanting the pleasure to end.

Her eyes rolled repeatedly, struggling to hold that eye contact with you. But you didn’t mind it, quite the opposite. It made you bite your lip at the thought that every vibration that she set off into you was because of the tall woman behind her. To know every time she rolled her eyes she was closer to the edge, drove you crazy. You almost pulled at her hair, wanting her even closer. But cowardice struck your heart, secretly intimated of the strong wanted criminal from Zaun.

Pleasure overwhelmed you as Sevika continued, her face now drenched from everything you were giving her. You whined at the sight, noticing the wet glisten on her nose and chin.

Your hips bucked at her mouth over and over and over. Until that burning sensation was becoming unbearable.

Obedient as ever, you wailed out a request. Ambessa watched hungrily as your legs shook around Sevikas head, wetness dripping onto her leg from Sevikas cunt.

“ please! can I…c-can I come?”

“ I’m not the one between your legs.”

With tears in your eyes and your hands clenched, desperate to not let go until someone, anyone, told you that it was ok. Sevika nearly melted seeing the way you pleaded with her before even saying anything, your lips trembling. Her own orgasm was approaching quickly.

“ p-please…sevika…”

Through broken moans and stutters, “ yes…god yes.”

Ambessa smiled as you whispered a pathetic thank you, your body at war with itself while you finished all over her face. Ambessa could tell she was close, it was obvious from how hard she was pulling it in. Sevika still ate at you desperately despite you having come, instead of relenting she simply pulled your thighs in with her arms, trapping you.

Ambessa had told her to devour you properly, and she wasn’t going to do anything but that. She did falter at her speed for a second, once she heard Ambessa demand for her to finish ‘all over her cock’ and quote.

You whimpered out pleads and begs, but neither listened. All you could do was paw at her strong forearms which clearly was no match for you. And Sevika hadn’t even noticed the scratch marks you gave her, her own orgasm so intense that she was lost in it. And being the cutting woman she was, Ambessa fucked her throughout all of it, until she was satisfied with the alien sounds she pulled from Sevikas throat.

Sevika did stop once Ambessa pulled out, heaving and shaking. And yet she did manage enough energy to leave a few extra peppered kisses on your wobbly thighs.

“ Who would’ve known the brave enforcer made such noises?”

Her voice was one of pure velvet, it made something rush through you. Everything about Ambessa made you go crazy. Yet you didn’t respond, ignoring Ambessa who now was behind you, head in your neck leaving bruises on it. You only whined, breathing rapidly. Her rough hands rubbed all around your breast and stomach.

“ What would your comrades think? You’ve just opened your legs to a wanted criminal, quite easily as well. Did you enjoy it? Having a Zaunite eat your cunt?”

Her words were so vile and you had no answers for her. You couldn’t even think straight, let alone entertain such nasty comments. Instead you opted to begging, not caring how filthy you looked in front of them anymore.

“ can I have more, please?”

Ambessa noticed now that your begging was no longer only directed towards her, your desperation for permission now being sought out from both of them. She didn’t mind. If anything it made her day a whole lot more interesting.

She smirked into your neck before pulling away, looking down at Sevika who no longer was bent over. Instead she now stood tall too, her naked body making you blush. Sevika knew she held no authority when it came to Ambessa, it was obvious. But you? Those lustful eyes peering up at her, awaiting any instruction, so long as it meant they touched you, drove her further into corruption.

Ambessa simply stared at Sevika, allowing her to answer.

“ Since you asked so nicely. Go ahead and open these up for me.”

She tapped at your thighs that you now had shut. Obediently, you opened them. Ambessa left your side, making you miss how warm she was. You heard her rummaging through something behind you before you saw her hand Sevika a stark black toy. Your arousal spilled down your legs as you patiently watched and waited. You grew alive with anticipation as you watched Ambessa grip the back of Sevika’s neck, whispering something in her ear. It left you curious after seeing the way Sevika’s eyes furrowed and she clenched Ambessa’s wrist desperately, nodding softly.

Ambessa left her to come back to your side, this time though she towered over you, cupping your face in her hand. It was surprisingly gentle, the way she rubbed her thumb back and forth. She studied you, finding it enticing how pliable you were, legs open and ready for them to do anything to you. She wanted to leave you clawing at the floor by the time she was done with you and from the way you easily slumped into her hands, she knew she could.

All that distraction made you oblivious to Sevika having a strap now attached to her as well. Sevika walked in front of you, pulling your legs suddenly so that your cunt was mere inches away from her cock. You bit your lip, one hand gripping the table and the other squeezing Ambessa’s wrist that now sat on either side of your face.

Sevika smiled down at you, allowing you to finally get a clear view of her gapped teeth. You nearly swooned at the sight of it. You hadn’t noticed how gorgeous she truly looked with all the hair that previously stuck to her face. But now you could see everything, her plump breast, her large thighs and strong arms, and that fucking smile.

“ Just relax, sweetheart. I know you’ll do good.” She dipped two fingers inside of you causing you to let out a small moan. Sevika made sure to get every bit of them wet, it wasn’t difficult at all, the constantly leaking proving just how good her tongue had been to you. She almost didn’t want to pull out, loving how warm you were inside. But that all went out the door the moment she saw you throw you back after she drew sticky circles around your clit lazily.

“ You’re so fucking wet, I was that good?”

You nodded mindlessly, grinding your ass softly against the desk. Ambessa gripped your chin gently causing you to suddenly open your eyes.

“ Manners, little one. She asked you a question.”

“ yesss,i-it’s so good, it’s a-all sooo good…”

You struggled to get it all out, broken up but moans and wails. The speed of her fingers was blinding by now. But she didn’t want you to cum, not yet. She ripped her fingers away, giving a faux sympathetic glance.

Sevika gripped your thighs as she lined the toy up with your cunt, making a slight show of the sounds it made as it moved back and forth between your lips. You bucked your hips desperate to actually put it inside, you didn’t have to wait long before she was sinking it all the way in. She was slow to enter, sure to not hurt you. But she assumed that’d be difficult to do considering you were practically drenched.

Ambessa itched with lust as she watched the way Sevikas thrust picked up, her stomach flexing and growing wet from you. You moaned out her name hoarsely, grateful that finally something was being done.

“ So pretty… this cunt is fuckin—- ngh… perfect.”

Sevika groaned out, feeling the harness rub against her throbbing clit. She looked up at Ambessa, eyelids low and mouth hung open, panting.

“ Fuck her faster.”

She didn’t dare disobey, picking up the speed immediately. You cried out, feeling it hit inside of you even deeper. Your poor cunt clenched around it, hungry for more. Your whole body felt hot to the touch. You thought you were going to die, not sure how much longer you could hold on despite her having just started.

Sevika moved your legs so that they rose straight up, pulling you even deeper allowing her thrust to drive you insane. You felt her hot breaths against your calf, her breast brushing against your bare skin. Her moans grew louder but it was impossible to overtake yours, your throat ripping out the most obscene noises. You met her thrust as best as you could, knowing you could never get enough of the pleasure she was giving you, even if it was overwhelming.

“ C’mere.”

You felt Ambessa suddenly capture your lips, pulling your head up slightly to ravage you. She tasted like honey and you moaned into her. Her hands roamed all over, cupping your breast that bounced vigorously. She bit at your bottom lip, relishing in the way you whined her name, not commander, her name.

“ ambessaaa.”

She secretly crumpled at sound. Typically she’d have corrected you, and told you to do better with your etiquette. But she couldn’t bother with that when you were shaking now, you and Sevikas orgasm clearly close.

“ fuckkkk! m-m gonn— no!”

You screamed louder than ever, still desperately kissing at Ambessa’s scarred face. The pair admired your discipline, fighting off the orgasm that you knew threatened to spill at any moment.

“ ‘bessa! s-sevikaa! can I— cum! can I please?”

Sevika was so far gone, ignoring your question. She stuttered her thrust, biting into your ankle as her orgasm grew closer. Ambessa gave uncharacteristic sympathy, filling in for her. She leaned down even closer, whispering in your ear.

“ Sevika’s been doing such a good job, hasn’t she?”

A tear slipped down your face as you nodded, whimpering more and more. She kissed the tear away, loving how they so easily fell down your face.

“ So how about we let her cum first, have some etiquette? How about that?”

Quite sure it wasn’t a question, you only offered a pained yes. Sevika sped up slightly making you claw at Ambessa’s hand that rested on your breast. Sevika came silently, her mouth forming into an ‘o’ as she fucked herself through her orgasm while also fucking you.

You looked up at Ambessa, pleading. She shushed your cries, telling you to let go for her and Sevika. And Sevika despite being overstimulated continued to fuck you enthusiastically, refusing to not let your pussy cry for her again. And cry it did, you came so hard on her cock that you saw stars. Vision blurry and body weak, you trembled beneath both of their stares.

You heaved, struggling to catch your breath. But Ambessa noticed you trying to say something. She rubbed your face again leaving bruised kisses on your chest.

“ Speak up, mumbling won’t do much.”

“ more…please”

Sevika, whose chest also struggled to catch breath, made eye contact with Ambessa. Your mind was a heavy haze, not able to concentrate on anything. But you did capture Ambessa’s commanding voice.

“ You heard her, Sevika. Do it again.”

[adieutristana]

getting married headcanons / arcane women x fem! reader

the thought of marriage and weddings have been on my mind for weeks now and i’m not sure why, but i’m a sap like that. i also haven’t been able to find many fics in the arcane tags about marriage so i figured i’d write my own :)

i’m getting to requests as quickly as possible! my first final is this friday and i’m kinda freaking out. things should speed up once im on winter break!

summary: headcanons of what it would be like marrying arcane characters.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.

tags/warnings: fluff. SO much fluff. mentions of (happy) crying, mentions of drinking, s2 spoilers / mentions of death (caitlyn), slight hurt/comfort

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* you had spoken of marriage before, and every time you did, jinx became incredibly emotional. the girl had never seen marriage as something in the cards for her. a master criminal, a symbol, a living martyr? sure. but never a wife. so when you brought up the fact that you one day wanted to marry her, she was inconsolable in the best way possible.

✧.* to think that someone loved her enough to want to marry her, to want to spend the rest of their life by her side was unreal. she never thought she would have that.

✧.* so naturally, when you got down on one knee in front of jinx and opened a velvet box, presenting her with a shining diamond- jinx was in hysterics. she immediately broke into a fit of tears. blubbering, she nodded frantically, shakily taking your hands in hers. you felt a few tears of your own fall from your eyes as you slipped the ring onto her finger.

✧.* "yes, yes, yes- oh god, yes, i want to marry you. are you sure, though? i mean... will i make a good wife? are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody like me?"

✧.* "yes, jinx. i want all of it. all of the chaos, all of the mischief and adventure. all of you."

✧.* jinx immediately makes it a point to show off her brand-new, shiny ring to absolutely everyone. she’s engaged now, and she’s gonna make it everybody’s problem. she would go into sevika’s usual spot- a local casino just to track her down and shove her hand in her face. sevika would just raise an eyebrow, and look back up at jinx. seemingly unamused.

✧.* “i’m a fiancée now! see?”

✧.* “i can see that.”

✧.* “you can at least act like you’re excited for me!”

✧.* jinx’s favorite part of being engaged is probably planning the wedding. she makes almost all of the decorations herself- centerpieces, messy tablecloths, colorful banners. they’re crude and chaotic, but they’re jinx.

✧.* you do manage to talk her into letting a friend make flower arrangements and cater, though.

✧.* while jinx wants to look nice for her big day, she doesn’t really put that much thought into what she wears, instead wanting to hear your input. if you want her to wear a suit, she’ll do so! if you’d rather see her in a dress, fine by her. however, i can’t see her in an extravagant wedding gown… probably something simple.

✧.* she does insist on wearing her hair in a single braid, though.

✧.* jinx wants a small wedding, at a local empty hall she can decorate however she pleases. close friends and (your) family are the only guests welcomed.

✧.* when the day of the wedding comes, jinx is both ecstatic and a nervous wreck. a million thoughts are swirling through her mind, whispering to her from every angle. what if you leave her at the altar? what if you get cold feet? but the fact that you are there, she knows you’re here for the long haul, is what grounds jinx.

✧.* jinx somehow convinced vi to walk her down the aisle.

✧.* it actually wasn’t hard at all, she’s just exaggerating. despite the strains and tainted history between the two, vi wouldn’t miss the chance to see her little sister get married for anything in the world.

✧.* when she walks down the aisle, she’s the first one at the altar. twiddling with her thumbs, eyes darting around the hall.

✧.* when she finally sees you being walked down, though, jinx isn’t able to hold back her tears. it starts out small, then a dam breaks. you just look so beautiful.

✧.* it comes time for the reading of vows, and jinx’s voice is trembling. bless her, she’s sniffling and trying through shaking hands to unfold the paper.

✧.* “i’m not good with words, you know this. i never have been. but you make it so easy. i’ve never felt more like myself with someone, never felt so loved and cared for. i still wonder why you chose to marry someone so chaotic, a ‘master criminal,’ as the pilties put it. but i can’t explain how grateful i am. you love me for everything that i am, and everything i’m not. it’s you and me, always. i love you.”

✧.* after exchanging rings, jinx is practically pouncing on you to close the distance between you. the exact moment the officiant says ‘you may now kiss.’

✧.* jinx is completely different during the reception. the music selection is so perfectly her, but also so you. she’s (horribly) dancing, tugging your wrists to invite you to dance with her. whooping and singing along to the music. this is the happiest you’ve ever seen jinx. your wife.

vi;

✧.* vi is also someone who never saw herself getting married, honest. she had a prison wife at one point, but that was just to get her through each grueling hour at stillwater. the girl never saw herself being married for real. until she met you.

✧.* she first began calling you her wife playfully. vi is a sucker for pet names, isn’t she?

✧.* “i’m home! how’s my wife doing? i didn’t keep ya waiting long, did i?”

✧.* but the more she called you her wife, and the more positive your reactions to the nickname became, it dawned on her that she actually could see herself marrying you. that option had just never clicked in her mind.

✧.* the two of you never properly talked about marriage per se, but it was silently agreed that it was a possibility.

✧.* however, it still caught you completely off guard when vi proposed to you.

✧.* it was in the middle of a field, which already struck you as odd. vi wasn’t one to go exploring in nature typically, but she said she wanted to see the stars with you, so you didn’t ask any questions.

✧.* you’re side-by-side with vi on a shared blanket, while your girlfriend uses her finger to point out each constellation. she’s wrong about the name of the majority, but you don’t have the heart to tell her that. she’s just too cute.

✧.* however, at the end of the night, when you’re occupied with folding the blanket, you glance over your shoulder to see vi on one knee. your hand claps over your mouth and the blanket falls onto the ground.

✧.* “(y/n), i love you. you know this. i tell you every day. but we’ve been together for a while now… and i think i’m ready to take the next step. i call you my wife anyways, why not make it official?”

✧.* with tears welling in your eyes, you nod again and again. hands covering your mouth and one shakily stretching to let vi slip the ring onto your finger.

✧.* it’s a simple ring; a silver band with a rectangular alexandrite in the center. but you can tell from the shine that vi had been saving for this purchase for a while.

✧.* vi wanted to get a ring worthy of you. a ring that showcased her endless devotion to you, and damn, she did a good job hiding the ring as long as she did.

✧.* vi doesn’t waste any time when it comes to planning. she wants a small wedding, but still intimate and romantic.

✧.* almost everything is done by the two of you, with minimal help from jinx. vi does centerpieces, invitations, and the music, while you take care of the catering, flower arrangements, and guest planning.

✧.* jinx likely just makes a few light coverings to give the illusions of different colored lights during the reception.

✧.* your girlfriend fiancée wears a tailored black suit, with a maroon vest and tie. she put a lot into being able to rent it, so she wants to make sure she looks perfect for her soon-to-be wife!

✧.* the day of the ceremony finally arrives. vi is nervous, but she does her best to keep herself grounded. it isn’t until she’s stood at the altar waiting for her bride that anxiety truly sets in.

✧.* yet, all of that anxiety melts the instant she sees you walking down the aisle. your eyes light and full of adoration, only for her. the smile on your face is enough to light up the entire universe on its own.

✧.* it’s then, when she takes your hand as you step up to the altar, that she begins to feel tears pricking at her eyes.

✧.* vi has her vows memorized. she made a habit of reading them aloud every night at least twenty times, over and over again. but she still manages to stumble over her words; something you can’t help but giggle to.

✧.* “my love for you has always been clear. since the day i met you, you’ve never left my mind, or my side. i love all of your cute habits, all of the things you think i don’t notice, the sound of your voice, your smile, those eyes… i love all of you. i promise to love you now, and forever. you complete me.”

✧.* vi is fully crying by the time she finally gets to cup your cheeks and press her lips to yours, holding the kiss longer than she probably should. but she just can’t help herself. you’re her wife now.

✧.* she doesn’t get shitfaced during the reception, but your wife is definitely pretty drunk on the dance floor. busting out moves you didn’t even know she had.

✧.* she feels free to let loose now, have fun, with you by her side. dancing with her. singing along to the music without a care in the world.

mel;

✧.* with mel, marriage wasn’t really a conversation the two of you had, instead, it was a given from the beginning.

✧.* mel takes relationships very seriously and sees anything casual as a waste of her precious time. marriage is the end goal when mel gets into any relationship, so it wouldn’t be any different for you. she loves you, and you love her, the natural thing to do is to get married.

✧.* however, she is a patient woman and willing to wait for whenever you’re ready to commit to marriage. she is busy after all, she can wait as long as needed.

✧.* when you finally are at a place in your life- financially, mentally, emotionally, to be able to comfortably get married, mel wastes no time proposing to you.

✧.* you figured it would be the other way around, and actually did begin window-shopping for a general idea of what ring you’d purchase for your girlfriend.

✧.* but mel has a way of knowing things, and she tells you that she’ll buy it.

✧.* “i know you’ve been browsing around, here and there for a ring. be patient. i’ll handle that, okay?”

✧.* when mel proposes, it’s in a small, intimate space in her home. the woman goes to plenty of galas and parties as a councilwoman, but she wants this moment to be only between her and her girlfriend.

✧.* warm candlelight fills the room, the scent of peonies and baby’s breath subtle. you’re unsure of what’s going on for such decorations- was there a holiday that you forgot? your anniversary wasn’t for another few months, so surely-

✧.* a soft voice from behind you pulls you back to reality. the sight of mel, on one knee, holding open a violet velvet box.

✧.* “my dearest. i know i tell you regularly, and i know you’re aware, but i love you. i love you more than life itself, and i want nothing more than to make the next commitment to you. i need to marry you, (y/n).”

✧.* and god, the ring itself. the stone is practically a boulder. it’s a gold band with a cluster of diamonds framing one big diamond in the middle. yes, mel is the most wealthy woman in piltover, but she’s truly outdone herself.

✧.* you’re in tears, mumbling out choked ‘yes’s as your now-fiancée beams. she takes extra care, gently slipping the ring onto your finger. letting you know just how beautiful it looks on you.

✧.* as much as mel would love to be thoroughly involved in planning the wedding, duty calls. so you have creative liberty- she trusts you. she also does hire a professional wedding planner to get most of the difficult work done. the last thing mel would want is you worrying your pretty head before marrying her.

✧.* a grand hall, with gold interior, fountains, high ceilings and glass chandeliers was selected for your wedding. a place which many former high-ranking members of piltover’s society have been married in years prior.

✧.* as for a dress, mel chooses a grand, white gown. silk with lace trimmings, and a cathedral-length veil. she doesn’t mind what you wear, the only thing that matters to her is your comfort.

✧.* naturally, the majority of piltover is invited to the wedding. it’s not every day that the most high-ranking woman in your city gets married.

✧.* the day of the wedding comes. mel is an expert when it comes to keeping herself calm on the outside; stoic and poised. but internally, she’s a mess.

✧.* mel medarda, getting married? it’s always been something she’s wanted, but now that it’s happening, it’s hitting her what she’s about to do. yet, that makes it so much more exciting.

✧.* her worry is more about what how she’ll be perceived by the public, and presenting a much more vulnerable side of herself.

✧.* when mel walks down the aisle, bouquet in hand, orchestra plucking strings, she’s taking deep breaths to ground herself. this is really happening.

✧.* she sees you walk toward the altar, and she immediately has to close her eyes. only for a second. you look absolutely divine- it’s overwhelming. so many emotions: love, adoration, gratitude, all swirling in mel’s chest.

✧.* mel has her vows memorized. she’s always had a good memory, but she can’t stop her voice from cracking and breaking every few words. the moment is just all-consuming.

✧.* “my love for you is eternal. it always has been, and it always will be. to be stood before all of piltover, making this promise to you is an opportunity i am honored to have. i promise to fiercely love you for as long as you will allow me to, and as long as you will love me. (y/n). my love, my light, and now my wife.”

✧.* she has to wipe away a few stray tears from her face afterward, but she giggles and tightly embraces you. just before brushing your lips with hers, a moment she wishes she could stay in forever.

✧.* the reception is refined and calm. although others may be getting a bit tipsy, mel would much rather slow-dance with you on the floor. stand beside the cake, champagne in hand, just admiring you for all that you are. she swears you’ve never looked more beautiful.

sevika;

✧.* sevika has never given marriage a second thought. for other girls? sure, but never her. she had a job to do, a city to protect, and that was her priority.

✧.* until you in passing mentioned being old and married in jest. that statement hit sevika like a bag of bricks.

✧.* trying to lay her head down to rest, your voice plays on a loop in sevika’s head. being old and married. married. married to each other.

✧.* she simply can’t shake the thought. again, she had never given marriage a second thought, but sevika could truly see herself marrying you. that was how loyal and devoted she was to you, how much she loved you.

✧.* sevika doesn’t mention it, though. that’s the kind of woman she is, isn’t it? moving in silence, but with intention nonetheless.

✧.* however, one day, sevika slips out of your shared home to take care of ‘business.’

✧.* “be back soon, love. i won’t be long. -sevika”, reads a note left on your dresser.

✧.* where sevika is actually going is to a metal smith in zaun, a humble craftsman in a shared space with various other artists. she wants your ring to be perfectly you, and she wants your ring to be one that nobody else possesses. so custom-made is the only option.

✧.* a thick silver band with an amethyst in the center, and engravings on the inside. it takes about two weeks to finish, with sevika checking in about twice every week in the wee hours of the morning. this is one of the most important projects she’s ever overseen.

✧.* once she finally gets it, sevika will not let go of the ring box. a heavy maple wood box housing the most important possession she has, soon to be yours.

✧.* of course, sevika fiddling with her left pocket doesn’t go unnoticed by you. but she brushes it off, tells you that she wasn’t sure if she left something in there from the day before.

✧.* her proposal is spontaneous. she tries to plan it, but she simply cannot wait any longer. she takes the ring box out of her pocket, presenting it to you and slowly opening it.

✧.* “i don’t… i don’t do this stuff. i don’t know how to, i’m sorry. but i… i love you, and i can’t stop thinking about what you said before. about being old and married. i want that, with you.”

✧.* it’s so rare that sevika is completely unguarded, even in private. she’s a soft lover, but you can tell that right now, all of her walls are down. poor woman, she’s even shaking.

✧.* you just grab her hand, a stray tear falling down your cheek, and whisper, “yes.”

✧.* sevika has no idea where to start when it comes to wedding planning (or event planning to begin with.) so you take on most of the responsibility for planning, occasionally enlisting help from friends.

✧.* of course, sevika is still very involved in terms of observing and helping you make decisions.

✧.* you choose a small hall, enough to hold a handful of guests. sevika doesn’t have many people to invite, granted, but there needs to be enough room for her playing mates at the casino, jinx, and your guests.

✧.* your fiancée chooses a dusty plum suit, tailored to her body and the smallest golden hoops in her ears. (you didn’t even know she had her ears pierced until the day of the wedding.)

✧.* the day comes, and sevika sees you walking down the aisle. she stares at you in nothing short of awe, pure joy. her mouth hangs open.

✧.* when you finally step up to meet her at the altar, it takes everything in the woman to not simply whisk you away then and there. patience, sevika, she tells herself.

✧.* she has her vows written down, despite trying to memorize them. she’s just filled with too many emotions. nerves, mostly.

✧.* “standing here now, i realize more than ever how much i love you. you’ve brought something to my life i never thought i’d feel: unconditional, unwavering love. i don’t know how you do it, but you make every day better than the last. you’ve gotten through to my heart. i swear to love you, to be loyal to you, and to protect you.”

✧.* she doesn’t even wait for the officiant to say that you may kiss, she’s immediately closing the distance between you as soon as you finish exchanging vows, kissing her wife again, and again, and again.

✧.* sevika doesn’t do much during the reception, mostly drinking little sips of whine and gazing at you with that longing expression you’ve come to know. if you try to drag her out onto the floor to dance with you, she’ll playfully groan and roll her eyes. but you know she loves it. she loves you.

✧.* “come on, sev, dance with me!”

✧.* “i don’t dance.”

✧.* “well, you do now!”

caitlyn;

✧.* the topic of marriage is a difficult one for caitlyn. as a member of one of the highest-ranking houses in piltover, it’s an expectation that she will one day marry. not necessarily from her parents, but from piltover and tradition.

✧.* honestly, she was indifferent. if she found someone she’d like to marry, great. but if not, she wasn’t going to hold her breath or beat herself up over it.

✧.* when you came into her life, caitlyn could feel her perception of marriage slowly changing. it was still indifferent at best, but she now understood why marriage was so common. why it was a thing, even. her love for you grew stronger by the day, and she wouldn’t be opposed to marriage- if it was you.

✧.* not married because she has to be, but because she wants to be.

✧.* caitlyn is transparent about all of this with you, telling you that while she’s okay with the idea of marriage, she doesn’t expect it. it’s the least she can do: be honest.

✧.* ultimately, the decision is in your hands, and you decide that you undoubtedly want caitlyn to be your wife.

✧.* so you browse every single jeweler in both piltover and the undercity. looking for any hidden gems amongst them. independent jewelers, chains, even heirlooms from your family. but in your search, you find a sole jewelry dealer in the undercity. selling a silver engagement ring with sapphire clusters that perfectly match caitlyn’s eyes.

✧.* you’re in the family’s garden, cait looking off into the distance. observing… the leaves, the flowers, the way the light hits them? you’re unsure, but you decide now is your opportunity.

✧.* “caitlyn.”

✧.* caitlyn quickly turns her head to you, looking the slightest bit concerned. “hm?”

✧.* that’s when you drop to one knee and take out a ring box. caitlyn’s eyes blow wide, both hands clapping over her mouth. she can’t believe the scene that’s playing out in front of her.

✧.* “i can’t contain myself anymore. caitlyn, the time i’ve had with you has been wonderful. the most amazing time of my life. you are the epitome of grace and diligence, consistently leading. you bring out the best in me day after day, and my life feels complete with you in it. caitlyn kiramman, will you marry me?”

✧.* bless caitlyn, she’s trying so hard to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay. she only nods, once, then twice, then over and over before bringing you into a deep kiss.

✧.* when you slip the ring onto her finger, you wish you could freeze time and frame this particular moment. the adoration in the woman’s eyes is one you can’t describe.

✧.* when it comes to wedding planning, cait wants to be as involved as possible. of course, she has a job to do, so that does prolong the planning. but patience is a virtue she learned early, so she doesn’t mind.

✧.* “what’s another few months? we have all the time in the world, dear.”

✧.* the two of you choose to have a small and intimate wedding, inviting her father, a few council members, and anyone you’d like to invite.

✧.* caitlyn chooses a sleek v-neck black dress, fitted to her form with a long train. she opts to wear a small tiara instead of a veil.

✧.* upon further examination, you notice that it’s the very tiara cassandra wore on her wedding day. silver, with small rubies delicately placed. caitlyn honoring her mother in this way brought a whirlwind of emotions to you, but you knew she would be happy for her daughter.

✧.* and for that very reason, among many others, caitlyn’s wedding day is an emotional one for her. she’s elated to be finally marrying the woman she loves, but she wishes more than anything that her mother could be there to see it.

✧.* seeing cait walk down the aisle does wonders to you. waiting at the altar for her was excruciating as is, but you almost have to pick your jaw up off the floor as your fiancée makes her way closer and closer to you. she looks otherworldly.

✧.* she chuckles and beams at you once she steps up to the altar. taking a moment to just admire you. she reaches a slim hand out to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in her hand for only a moment. her sapphire eyes full of adoration.

✧.* caitlyn has her vows written down, in that annoyingly perfect penmanship of hers. she reads from the paper, glancing up at you constantly while having to wipe her eyes.

✧.* “(y/n), i didn’t know if this day would ever come. but i’m so glad that it has. my love for you knows no bounds, it festers and grows and builds onto itself every day. it’s exhilarating, as is every day by your side. to call myself your wife will be my greatest honor. and to welcome you into the kiramann family, an even greater honor.”

✧.* she’s fully crying by the time she finishes reading out her vows, looking up at you with the best smile that she can muster. she’s so overcome with love, she can’t help it.

✧.* the moment the officiant says you may kiss, caitlyn is placing one hand firmly on your waist and the other wraps around your lower back. holding you close and brushing her lips against yours.

✧.* cait’s reception is rather relaxed, with a selection of mostly classical and contemporary music playing quietly over speakers. however, she insists on having several slow dances with you. she’s surprisingly good, which makes you suspect she’s experienced with this.

✧.* guiding you back and forth with expertise, her head buried into the crook of your neck. holding you impossibly close to her as she hums in contentment.

[madaqueue]

EPISODE 3: A TASTE OF HONEY IN DEFEAT

satoru thought he would have no problem winning a bet he proposed, but a month is too long to go without a taste of anything this sweet.

themes/content: smut. edging, handjobs, mean-ish dom!reader, satoru being whiney lmao, premature ejaculation + he cums inside, light bondage (satoru receiving). (wk: 2.1k)

a/n: this is part of @luv-lies no-nut-november collab!!! so excited to have been a part of this, hope you all enjoy >:3

“You know I trust you, but don’t you think the ropes are a bit much?” Satoru giggles as you tighten the final knot around his wrists, shoulders bulging and arms stretched overhead.

“I know you trust me - it’s you I’m worried about, ‘Toru.”

“What, worried I won’t be able to keep my hands off you?” The smirk painting his features veers into a grimace as he winces, straining against the tightening rope.

“No. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep your hands off yourself.”

Pink lips draw into a pout. “Aw c’mon, you know I’ll be good! I’m the one who made this bet in the first place, remember?”

You hum as you tug his hands down, testing the strength of the woven cerulean adorning his skin. The headboard shakes with the movement.

“And yet, you were so willing to break the rules.”

It had been quite a sight, truly - your dear Satoru, splayed across the bed, whimpers and moans falling from his lips like honeyed rain. They landed heavy in your ears, sticky and sweet. When the door creaked open, he made no effort to stop the fervent motions of his fist up and down his cock. He was flushed from head to toe, too lost in his own pleasure to recognize the sound of your footsteps approaching. It was only when your hand rested atop his that he jerked up, clouded eyes turning apologetic.

“I know I wasn’t supposed to, I know, I just couldn’t wait-” he had babbled.

“It’s okay,” you purred, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “But you knew the deal, remember? I’m the only one allowed to touch you this month, right, Satoru?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry-”

“And how close you were to cumming, too.”

“I wasn’t going to, I swear-”

You hummed and squeezed his base, earning a gasp. “You know it’s not good to lie, either. Remember, you made this bet, sweetheart. Were you really so willing to throw it all away? To lose?”

“I wasn’t going to lose, I promise, I just needed something-”

He was getting worked up, panicked thoughts racing through his mind. He braced on his forearms to sit up, but with a purposeful push you guided him back onto the sheets.

“It’s okay, my love. If my poor baby is so needy, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you something.”

His eyes widened when you pulled the ropes from under the bed, eyeing him like your next meal, a starving predator ready to pounce. And here was your prey, so ready for the taking, offering himself to you as a good piece of meat should.

And now, he’s tied up like one, too.

“I wasn’t even going to break the rules,” he whines impatiently.

Sitting back, you admire your work: your strong, determined Satoru spread and waiting. Trailing a finger down his stomach, his skin burns hot in its wake.

“That’s certainly not what it looked like to me.”

“I-”

“Because to me, it looked like you couldn’t handle going even a month without touching this needy little cock of yours.”

He pouts. “I’m not little,” he huffs.

A giggle bubbles from the back of your throat, bouncing past your lips.

“And besides, I can handle it, I swear! I made it almost the whole month, I did, I just-”

Tilting your head, you gaze down at him. “What, got too desperate? Poor Satoru, ‘The Strongest,’ couldn’t even follow the rules of a bet he made?”

Blue flashes against white as he rolls his eyes. One hand ruffles his hair, cooing down at him.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll make you beg to break this silly little bet of yours.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs, hiding the way pink creeps up his neck and decorates his cheeks, stained like flower petals. He’s soft like them, too.

A light chuckle lands in the air when your palm grazes up his length. He twitches in your hold, warm skin on warm skin.

“H-hah, see?” His mouth hangs open between the words. “Told you I could handle it.”

It’s gentle touches at first, to ease him into it: slow strokes, light fingers. And yet, he’s still wrapping his throat around whimpers.

“Aw baby, I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Your lips curl into a smile, breath hot behind them. The words come out syrupy, dripping in sugar (and Satoru has always had a sweet tooth). His stomach aches in hunger - hunger for your hands, your body, your control. Whatever you plan to do to him, he’ll swallow it whole, bigger and bigger bites until his cheeks swell and all he can taste is you.

The grip around his base tightens, running up and down. Something about your skin is so much softer than his, untainted by the cruelty he lives through, only dirtied by desire. It spreads over his skin, glistening white and sticky.

When whines begin to twist through the silence, his eyelashes fluttering to bat away the impending tears, he doesn’t have to say it - he’s close.

Just as his muscles begin to tense, you rip your hand away.

There’s a choked little cry he lets out, hurt like an animal you spared from death. One that was ready for it, for the warmth and comfort it provided.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is strained already, a high-pitched draw across his vocal cords. His eyes are sparkling and wet.

A peck to his cheek sends shivers down his spine. “Because you’re not supposed to finish, remember, silly? I’m just helping you hold up your end of the bet, after all.”

A sound like untuned violins, haunting and beautiful all the same, plays from his throat. You giggle at the music.

“C’mon, Toru - you wanted this, remember?”

“I know,” he grumbles, scrunching his nose. “Fine, fine, do whatever you want.”

You smile.

(You would have anyways)

Your gaze falls upon the aquamarine rope, the matching eyes, before trailing back down his steadying chest.

It stutters when your fingers trace up the veins of his cock.

It heaves when you cup a palm around his balls.

You squeeze.

“F-fuck,” he groans, hips lifting off the bed.

There’s a word living at the tip of his tongue, its shape burning into his mouth.

Harder.

Luckily, you know your Satoru - you know what he thinks, feels, wants. And as a lover should, you happily oblige.

The sound he makes is garbled and choked, utter nonsense. It came straight from the depths of his body, a pure animalistic response, one he couldn’t have controlled if he tried.

Already, he’s beginning to tremble in your palm - it’s getting easier to do this, make him shake like a lost leaf floating through the autumn air, held captive by the gusts of your wind. Up and down, he travels with you, because of you.

Again, you pull your hand away.

Again, he whines.

“Noooo,” he mumbles, more to himself than anything. It was automatic, the expression of displeasure, ripped from him with the loss of your warmth on his.

“What’s wrong baby? You want me to stop?” It’s more fun when he has an out, when he could say no and chooses not to. When he wants this just as badly as you. “You know you-”

“No.” It's more breath than sound. “No, please. Keep going.”

And as a lover should, you happily oblige.

Precum drips down his length, covering him in remnants of desire. They cling to his skin like silky webs, woven from devotion and need. Each slick pump of your hand up and down creates more and more and more, a beautiful pearl at his slit forming one moment only to be spread by your circling thumb in the next.

Each time you reach his base, you squeeze. Each time you reach his tip, you twist. In this dance you both twirl and breathe and feel in beat, holding on to one another with sweaty hands and tired muscles.

“Remember, you can give up whenever you want,” you coo, the sweet glue of a trap.

But Satoru doesn’t dare taste, doesn’t dare step inside - he knows better.

(Right?)

“I’m not - fuck - giving up.” He tries to throw you a smile, but it lands at your feet.

Fists clench into each other, nails digging into his palms. You almost feel bad, the way he’s beginning to writhe within the ropes. It must hurt, you think, the texture soft but never soft enough - it’s nothing compared to you. In spite of his anguish, he knows better than to give up this easily. You haven’t even really begun, not yet.

When his eyelashes flutter closed, you know to pull your hand away.

He’s getting more subtle, the only sign of his impending pleasure a soft flicker of white and blue. But you recognize it, of course - his pleasure lives everywhere in him. In the way his breath catches, in the way his skin burns hot, in the way he gets all too loud or all too quiet.

There’s barely a sound this time. Instead, he just frowns, displeasure spreading across his sweet features. His lower lip sticks out, and he stares at you with cloudy eyes.

“I know, baby, I know. But this is what it takes if you want to win.”

The words don’t ease the growing ache in his core, but your voice does. Every vowel blurs the pain, every consonant gives him something to cling to. He’ll climb himself out of insanity on your breath.

Again, you wrap around him and drag him closer to the edge. Unable to pull his gaze away, he stares down it, looming, waiting. The free fall must feel nice, the wind against his skin, for a moment before he hits the ground. But with a firm hand on the back of his head, you just hold him there. It’ll be his choice whether he decides to jump. Or rather, when he decides to jump.

Another choked groan leaks from his lips when you pause. There are no words left for him to say, nothing but the agony of desire. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if it’ll make the leap any less tempting.

Hushed whispers, not quite praise, tingle his mind. Little hums of “I know,” or “there, there,” dance from your throat, and he writhes.

Distress always looked so pretty on him. Pretty tears, pretty red cheeks, pretty pouts and pretty cries. Perhaps it’s a curse that he looks like a fallen angel when he weeps - if he looked more grotesque, you wouldn’t feel the urge to bring him back into the jaws of pain.

But he lets you comfort him nonetheless, preen his wings and kiss his tears.

This time, when you stop, he thrashes. His skin burns, crisp like it had been warmed by the sun for too long. Everything is too tight, his hands, his arms, his shoulders, his stomach. They need to be loosened; they need to be released.

“Please.”

It’s so quiet, it’s almost not a word, just little sounds from his tongue.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Tears stream from glossy eyes when he looks at you. His lips quiver as he speaks.

“Please, I wanna cum. Please.”

The smile spreading across your face is cold and knowing; he looks beautiful as he falls.

“I know you want to, but-”

“I lose.” He’s panting, gasping through the plea. “I lose, I give up, I don’t care, just, please.”

Hot tears melt beneath your thumb as you swipe them away. His mouth hangs open, as though he could swallow the air, hold it inside him and let that ease the aching. But the only thing that can help him now is you, the only thing he can stomach.

“Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

A loose smile flows across his face, easy like gentle waves lapping at the corners of his thoughts. The sentence itself barely makes sense to him at this point, garbled in his lust-clouded mind. But he knows you’ll help him now; he welcomes the push over the edge.

Straddling his lap, you guide him to your entrance. Sticky and hot, he presses into you. Just as his tip enters your warmth, he hurls himself into the wind.

Everything in his body trembles, muscles tightening and contracting out of time. Eyelashes flutter, whimpers dance like petals as he comes undone.

The only thing he can do is twitch inside of you, pearly strings pulsing with each erratic breath.

Finally, he opens his eyes to find you smiling. Warm lips press along his cheeks, dried tears salty on your tongue.

“Well, you certainly lost this time,” you hum, resting your forehead against his; he looks at you like you created the earth itself, your breath in the wind and your heartbeat in the sun. “But there’s always next year, right?”