#what happened to just ignoring that content
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georgetheferret · 13 hours ago
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I actually have no clue if it's a fixation or a spin but yeah I'm doing this idc if this post is from like 5 years ago
I also might have got sum things wrong so please correct me kindly if that happens
prepare for a long yapping session.
📃 it doesn't really have a plot whatsoever and half of the content is just nonsense from like 2015 on scratch (yes, the coding website with the damn cat)
📌 I found it during like early October 2023 while I was on picsart looking for content of a OLD hyperfixation I had called "fluvsies" and then I found this sticker of the Main character named "aarex" and I thought "who is this character????" So I decided to look him up on google lens then boom 15+ months later now I've been thinking about the characters
✨ what's so interesting about it is that it's a unique internet rabbithole that's KINDA similar to multiple other rabbitholes (e.g the closing logo community, goanimate/Vyond community and greeny phatom) and if you like obscure weird internet stuff then I highly recommend you to fall down this rabbithole (just be mindful that it's mostly full of inflation deviantart slop tho so if that irritates you then ignore that stuff)
💕 it's aarex because it's aarex, he is aarex. I don't have anything to say he's just aarex.
🍀 aarex because it's aarex!!!
💎 1. the FORMER creator of it is no longer on scratch cuz he got banished due to him making like 7-8 (?) alt accounts and now he works on Googlogy (study of large numbers) and game development at the moment of writing this
2. All of the characters are the same with different colors (regular show reference lmao)
3. I genuinely don't know of what to put here
💢 please stop with the fifa world Cup mascot fart inflation vore feet deviantart slop, I just wanna look at the funni blue cyborg without being forced to look at SLOP on deviantart. Just please. Please.
media hyperfixation ask game!
this can also be applied to special interests! if you have multiple, put them in the tags so people who send asks can specify which hyperfixation/spin they’re asking about. 📃 what is the plot of your hyperfixation? and is it a movie, game, show, etc? 📌 how did you find your hyperfixation? ✨ what draws you towards your hyperfixation? what is interesting about it? 🎥 do you have any favorite scenes from your hyperfixation? 🎶 if your hyperfixation has songs/an ost, what is your favorite song from it? 💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them! 💔 tell us about one of your LEAST favorite characters and why you dislike them. 🏳‍🌈 do you have any headcanons (lgbt, race, neuro, etc) that are important to you? 🍀 do you have any kins or comfort characters from your hyperfixation? 💎 are there any fun facts or trivia that you would like to share? 💢 what do you NOT like about your hyperfixation? is there something you would want to change about it?
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shomatoriashi · 3 days ago
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01/06/25; 06:03pm
sylus x fem.reader | non.mc
obligatory tags: @voidsylus | @milkandstarlight
warnings: unedited; semi-public s-x.
[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]
the boutique located in the n109 zone that sylus had taken you to was surrounded by dozens of high class women; those who were born with a silver spoon in their hands. now, being an average woman, you didn’t get to experience the luxuries of such a life until much later (the moment you fell in love with sylus as he swore to give you not only his heart, but anything and everything you desired as well.)
which was why you were here to begin with. even as you browsed the cute trinkets and jewelry from the store, you could feel the clerk’s eyes glaring daggers into you. not only were you receiving dark looks, but all the other employees were actively ignoring you, choosing instead to sink their claws into your lover as their saccharine voice asked if he needed any help.
“no, i’m fine, but my girlfriend could use some assistance.”
you momentarily bask in their crestfallen expression, watching as they tossed aside their curled hair before marching over to you. you had not even spoken a single word when the catty employee leans in to harshly whisper in your ear, “sorry, but i believe these cute jewels are just way too expensive for the likes of you. after all, having you wear our brand would be such a disgrace.”
as swiftly as she came, she stomps away from you, her laughter echoing throughout the store as she went to gossip with her coworkers over what had just transpired. manicured nails point at you, as their hushed whispers openly mocked you as they spoke about how unfit you were to be with mr. sylus.
grateful that sylus was entirely focused on the contents of his phone, you decided to get a tiny bit of revenge by hatching an almost diabolical plan. instead of looking at the various rings and necklaces, you cling onto sylus’s arms and point toward the direction of the section that housed all of the lingeries.
“walk me over there?” you point a finger over at where the various lingeries were on display, watching as sylus’s eyebrows go up in amusement.
“my, i wanted to take you here in order to help treat yourself. i didn’t think that i would receive a treat as well, little dove.”
you tried to appear as innocuous as possible, jutting your lips out into a pretty pout as you pulled sylus along. “but of course, i’m always willing to spoil you, sy.”
with sylus practically following you around (like a lost puppy), you have him talk to the lady manning the fitting rooms, asking him to get a key for one of the rooms as you made your selection alone. giving you a chaste kiss, he obeys your command and leaves you to your own devices-
which was exactly what you wanted to happen.
your eyes scan the various lingeries, searching for the perfect one that would set sylus off-
and within mere minutes, you found one.
the material of the flimsy piece left little to the imagination, and you could just picture the way your perky nipples would strain against such pretty lace while wrapping the most intimate part of you in ribbons-
this is the one.
folding the lingerie, you head towards the fitting rooms, seeing sylus waiting for you as he handed you the key. blowing him a kiss, you sweetly ask him to wait for you before locking yourself into the single room. taking a moment to admire such a spacious area, you muse to yourself at how this place felt like a totally different world before getting to work. putting your purse aside, you hurriedly shimmy out of your clothes, making sure you were bare before sliding on the lingerie, feeling the silk fabric fit your form to perfection. admiring yourself in the mirror, you put on a fresh coat of lip gloss while fixing your hair-
ready for sylus to make his move.
you open the door, standing seductively against it while whispering sylus’s name. he looks away from his phone, meeting your sultry gaze as his eyes widened with shock. crimson irises were felt raking down your form, making you giggle.
“like what you see, sy?”
yet the onychinus leader doesn’t answer you, choosing instead to march into your fitting room while slamming the door shut. “do i like what i see? kitten, you are absolutely divine.” you feel the way his powerful hands wrap around your waist before picking you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as you felt the way his clothed erection strained against you-
making you break out into a grin when you realized you had him; hook, line, and sinker.
he presses his hot lips press against the base of your throat when he pins you against the wall, ready to slide off your lingerie when you stopped him. “no… i want to keep this pretty lace on, just for you, sy.”
a low growl escapes from sylus, and you felt him lower his large hand between your legs before moving the ribbons that cover your center off to the side. with a gasp, you felt his large finger slowly drive itself into your wet heat before making a pumping motion. “you’re driving me crazy, love.”
hiding his face within the curve of your neck, sylus continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, drawing out breathy moans that seemed to echo throughout the boutique. with your arms wrapped around his neck, you gently grind your cunt against his fingertips while whispering in his ear, “do i feel good, wrapped around your fingers like this?”
a broken groan was heard coming from sylus when he removed his now soaked fingers out of your core, licking them clean briefly before adjusting his hold on you. he presses your chest against the walls now, making you gasp when you heard the shifting of fabric coming from behind you.
even when you weren’t able to see him, you could feel him- the sensation of hot velvet pressing against your soaked cunt before slowly sheathing itself inside of you. your gasps quickly morph into moans when sylus began to pound his cock into you, literally fucking you into the wall.
“i’m so fucking obsessed with you.” his hot whispers were all you could hear, feeling sylus press lingering kisses against your damp skin. you felt each new angle of his cock slamming back into you, causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you each time as your walls eagerly take in every inch he had to offer.
somehow, you were able to find your voice, begging him to turn you around. “l-let me look at you, sy… i want to see you as i fall apart for you.”
a low hiss was heard as sylus bites down against the lobe of your ear, heeding your command when he hurriedly pulls out of you. the sudden loss of him causes you to sob in response, with sylus gripping at your waist before allowing your back to meet the wall once more. settling himself between your thighs, sylus doesn’t waste another second when he completely impales his cock back into you.
your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, coaxing your lover to go even deeper as you felt your breasts bounce with his every movement. not even caring that you were not alone while in the midst of this expensive boutique, you allow your moans and his grunts to echo throughout the space, your back arching when you felt the way your walls sweetly wrapped around sylus’s cock before milking him for all he was worth.
spurts of his seed were felt escaping your walls as they stained at the lace and ribbons of the lingerie, with sylus letting out a content grunt. his hips sloppily thrust into you, making sure he was completely emptied before resting his weight against your shoulder. by now, you were both panting, feeling the sweat run down your respective forms as sylus pressed a lingering kiss against your shoulder.
keeping your hips still, sylus gently pulls out of you, and you moan when you felt the evidence of your respective release further stain the lingerie. sylus takes a step back, admiring how he had completely wrecked you and the flimsy fabric with an appreciative hum. as he adjusts himself (placing his softened cock back into the confines of his boxers), you watch as he zips up his pants before gathering your crumpled clothes from the ground.
not even allowing you to remove the utterly ruined lingerie, sylus helps you put on your clothes while pocketing your panties. once your blouse was on, you watch as sylus shoves your bra into the confines of your purse, hands automatically going around your waist as he presses a lingering kiss on your temple.
“keep that purchase on you; i’ll pay for it as we walk out- i’m far from being done with you, kitten.”
unlocking the door to the fitting room, sylus grabs the key and his wallet, coming face to face with a now blushing woman that had a wide eyed gaze. he tosses a few bills at her as payment for your latest purchase all while giving your backside a firm smack!
as you both walk out of the boutique, you basked in everyone’s shocked expression (red face and all!) while showing them your own, victorious smile-
having the leader of onychinus as your lover meant that you would always have free reign to do whatever you wished to do (since everyone feared him and would never wish to go against him), and even if you weren’t born with the world given to you on a silver platter-
sylus was all too willing to fix that and make it a reality for you.
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end notes: so i had a n a u g h t y daydream earlier and decided to make it a r e a l i t y… (⺣◡⺣)♡
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
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pboogerswbb · 3 days ago
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SO IT GOES - chapter 6
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Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)
-
Before London
You need a ride to work tmr?
I don’t but thank you x
My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 
I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.
“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.
I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.
“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”
“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”
“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.
Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”
Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?
I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.
“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.
“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”
I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.
“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.
“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.
-
“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 
Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.
“Paige?”
“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.
“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.
“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.
“Paige Madison.”
I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.
“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”
“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”
“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.
“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”
“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.
“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”
“Huh? Tell you what?”
“Is this about a girl?” He asks.
I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”
“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.
“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”
“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”
“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”
I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.
“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.
“Okay kid, love you.”
“Love you dad.”
The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.
But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.
No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.
Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-
“Paige?” 
Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 
Quick, improvise.
“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”
She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.
“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.
“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”
She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.
“You been resting?” I ask concerned.
The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”
“Izzie…”
“What?”
“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.
“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.
“Let me in.”
“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.
“I won’t. I’m built different.”
Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.
Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.
“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.
“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 
“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 
“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.
“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.
My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.
“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.
“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.
“What?”
“Iz, you’re sick!”
“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.
“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.
“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.
“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.
“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”
“A nest?” Izzie laughs.
“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”
Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.
“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”
“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.
“Lemme take care of you ma.”
She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 
“The cabinet above the microwave.”
“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.
“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 
“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”
“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.
“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.
“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”
“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”
“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”
She giggles. “Immune system powers?”
“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.
“Paige?”
Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.
“Y-yeah?”
She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”
-
“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 
“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 
The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 
“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.
“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”
The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”
We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.
My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.
Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.
Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.
Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 
“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.
“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.
“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.
“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.
“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.
“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.
“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.
“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.
“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.
“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”
She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.
“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”
“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”
“She went to Uconn with you, right?”
The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”
I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”
She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”
I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.
“The party… Iz, I-”
“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.
“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”
“Paige?”
“Yeah mama?”
“Kiss me.”
-
It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.
I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.
I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.
So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.
“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.
“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.
“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”
God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.
“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.
“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 
As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.
“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”
Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 
“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”
“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”
Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.
I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.
“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 
“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.
“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”
She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.
“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”
Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.
I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.
“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.
“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.
“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.
“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.
-
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pacofprunes · 1 day ago
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cotton candy grapes
thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)
warnings — very short drabble, reader has pink hair, noncon kissing, biting that draws blood, choking, subtle threatening, drug use
by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+
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somehow, he hadn’t noticed you in the first game. you’d think the only other person there with dyed hair, that was pink, would immediately get his attention. but he didn’t notice until after the games when it was time to vote, you smacking that red X. he only saw your hair though, he wanted to see your face. he knew you had to be stunning.
the voting ends and he sees you on the other side sitting on your bed with your face in your hands. he gets up to go over to you.
“where are you going?”
nam-gyu his lap dog. he sits up out of his bed to see what his owners doing.
“none of your business.”
he walks away towards you, nam-gyu watching the whole time. on the way there he pops a pill in his mouth.
“hello señorita.”
you look up and he’s stunned. god you were beautiful. he whistles at you.
“what’dya say you join me and my team over there beautiful?”
he points to the other side where you see a group of people.
“uh, no thank you.”
“come on babe don’t be so difficult. you’re over here all alone, you need alliances. and i, thanos, the greatest rapper there has ever been, is a great ally.”
you pause and think. it would be nice to have allies in a shit hole like this. but then you think back to the first game. right in front of you, a whole row of people fall forward and get shot. it wasn’t from somebody tripping. no. it’s because this guy who says his name is thanos pushed them. you’re pulled out of your thoughts and look him in the eyes.
“you killed all those people.“
he looks at you with a shocked sarcastic smile.
“did i?”
“yes. yes you did. the first game, you pushed them all. no i don’t wanna fucking be on your team are you crazy?”
he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes it back slightly before you slap his hand away.
“come on señorita, money is money! you didn’t know those people and neither did i!”
he laughs, sick. he leans forward closer to your face and then moves over to your ear.
“plus, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t join my team and switch that X.”
he leans back and points to the red X on your chest. flicking it. you stand up and ignore him before walking away from him, going to the bathroom to avoid him. he just stares your way.
“girls who play hard to get are so fucking hot.”
he runs a hand through his hair before going back to his degenerate friend nam-gyu. telling him all about you. granted he twisted a lot of shit. claiming you wanted him so bad, but was just so intimidated by how famous he is that you didn’t want part of that spotlight, and that’s why you said no. definitely was not what you said at all though.
you come back in the room, your pink hair bouncing behind you. god it looked so soft. he should’ve ran his hand through your hair while he had the chance. lights out comes about and he just sits up on his bed, taking another pill. thinking to himself what his next action should be. what if you died tomorrow and he didn’t even get the chance to kiss you? he gets up and walks back over to your side. you were trying to go to sleep, but weren’t asleep yet. he simply just grabs your elbow and pulls you behind the bed, pressing you against the wall.
“what the hell is wrong with you?”
he looks you dead in the eye with a crazed look. and rubs his hands through your hair. so fucking soft.
“babe, you’re just so fucking beautiful, what if you die tomorrow? and i don’t get the chance to smoke with you, kiss you, fuck you…”
you give him a disgusted look before he grabs your face in both hands giving you a tight kiss. forcing his tongue in your mouth. you push at his chest with your hands before stomping on his foot and he jumps back.
“you fucking bitch.”
he goes back up to you before you get the chance to get away from him and he grips your hair between all his fingers. you wanted to scream but didn’t wanna make things worse. plus, nobody would help you in a place like this. constant killing and fighting. nobody gave a fuck about you. he takes a deep breath before he breaths it all out into your neck. he wraps his hands around your neck as a warning, rubbing his fingers in circles around it.
“you’re so beautiful, one of the prettiest women i’ve ever seen. just give a handsome guy like me a chance.”
he kisses you again, hands still around your neck, doing light little pulse squeezes every few seconds as a warning. he bites your lip this time drawing a little bit of blood, causing you to go to scream. but as soon as you do, he’s squeezing your throat as tight as he can, you can’t get any air, not even a single noise out. he continues to kiss you before pulling away and looking you in the eyes as you struggle to breathe. finally he lets go and pushes your hair behind your ear.
“i expect you change your mind tomorrow, kay babe? wouldn’t wanna hurt you even more, i really do like you.”
he takes a step back and you guys just hold eye contact and he swings his cross necklace, playing with it in his fingers before opening it.
“if you ever want some, just come to me. the pink one suits you perfectly.”
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itsnesss · 16 hours ago
Note
hello! could you write a hwang junho x reader where he finds out that they were asked to join the games? like he discovers the card and freaks out over it? 🫡
𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader
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summary | the request
warnings | fluff, emotional content, themes of concern and vulnerability, soft romantic moments, mentions of risk and danger
word count | 1.7 k
author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩
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The sound of the television is a distant murmur as you get lost in your thoughts. The card weighs on you, but something inside you urges you to ignore the warnings. The desire to change, to escape the monotony of your life, is stronger than any doubt. The opportunity is there, within your reach, and you know you could take it. But what if something goes wrong? The doubt consumes you.
Suddenly, you hear a noise coming from the kitchen. You know it’s him, Jun-ho.
You wonder what he's doing around here, but you don't have time to think too much about it. You’ve barely noticed him until now, but there's something strange about his presence in the last few days. He watches you constantly, as if he's waiting for something to happen.
You hear his footsteps approaching, and when he enters the room, his gaze goes directly to the coffee table where, unknowingly, the card has been left visible. The tension in the air is palpable. You don’t dare move it; you don’t want him to ask, but he does.
"What is this?" he says, his voice so low you can barely hear it. His eyes fix on the card, but his hands stay at his sides, as if he’s avoiding touching it.
"Where did you get this from? Who gave it to you?" His voice hardens, but there's also a kind of desperation you hadn’t noticed before.
Your heart skips a beat. You know you’ve left it in plain sight by mistake, but you didn’t expect him to react like this. Something’s not right, and his gaze makes that clear. The way his jaw tightens and the worry in his eyes makes you hesitate for a moment. You question if you really know what you’re about to do.
"You don’t have to worry about it," you respond, trying to downplay it, but your voice trembles. You don’t even believe yourself. You’re trying to act strong, but you know deep down that something feels vulnerable.
"Yes, yes, I have to worry," he responds firmly, stepping a little closer. The anxiety in his expression is palpable, as if he’s about to explode. "This is not a game. You don’t know what’s behind that card. You’re getting into something you can’t control."
You, however, can’t let him influence you. There’s something inside you telling you that this is your chance, that you can’t let it slip away so easily. Life has been dragging you through the same routine, and this could be the change you’ve been needing. Why not try it? If you could escape all this, maybe you could finally feel free, maybe you could be something else, something different.
"I don’t understand why you care so much," you say with a forced smile, trying to brush off the situation. You don’t want him to see how affected you are by his gaze, by his concern. You need to have control, at least a little. "I’m not a child, I can take care of myself."
The silence between the two of you grows dense. He looks at you as if he’s trying to read what’s going on in your mind, but finally, he steps toward you and, with a deep sigh, takes your hands in his. His fingers, warm and firm, make you feel a small knot in your stomach. It’s strange how such a simple physical touch can make your thoughts dissolve, how suddenly you feel so vulnerable.
"I’m just asking for myself," he says softly, his voice much gentler now, but full of an emotion you can’t quite identify. His expression is laden with sincerity, something you’ve never seen from him before. "Don’t do it. Promise me. I don’t want you to go into that, I don’t want to lose you."
His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, you feel something change in the air. It’s as if, for an instant, the rest of the world disappears, and it’s just you and him, in that small bubble of silence. His plea resonates in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if you’re making the right decision. His concern is palpable, and for a moment, you question if maybe he knows something you don’t understand yet. It’s so hard to comprehend why he cares so much, why now it seems like the only right option is to follow his advice.
And the worst part is that, for the first time, you doubt your own desires.
"If you need money, I’ll help you," he adds with an unexpected softness, as if he’s willing to do anything to keep you from making that decision. As if it’s not just an attempt to stop you from entering the game, but a genuine desire to protect you, to offer you something better than that risk. "Just promise me. Please."
He says it with such tenderness that you almost crumble. His words, so sincere, pierce you like a knife, and for a moment, you forget about the card, the game, everything that had drawn you to that decision. It’s just him, his gaze, and that glimmer of hope that seems to want to reach you.
It’s strange how, in that instant, everything that had been noise and chaos in your head becomes quiet. You feel the weight of his plea in the air, the vulnerability of his confession, as if he’s offering you his trust without reservation. Why does he care so much about what you think? Why is he so desperate to save you?
You remain silent for a moment, looking into his eyes. You feel the weight of the card in your pocket, but now, in his presence, it doesn’t seem as tempting as it did before. The game, the opportunity, all seem insignificant compared to what you’re feeling now, as you look at him. It’s not just that he’s asking you to stay away from danger; it’s as if, in some way, he’s asking you to believe in him, to believe in something beyond what you want. And the worst part is that it’s becoming hard not to believe.
Without thinking, you step a little closer to him, almost as if it were a reflex, and before you can process it, he kisses you. It’s a soft kiss, full of an unexpected tenderness, as if he’s putting all his hope into that gesture, as if he’s asking you to understand him without words. The kiss is short, but it speaks volumes, and when he pulls away, your hearts beat together, intertwined in a connection you didn’t expect, but somehow, you understand. He’s reached you in a way you didn’t know you needed.
"Promise me," he says softly, as if he already knows he’s gotten to your heart, as if he’s already gotten what he wanted.
You remain silent for a moment, struggling with your own thoughts. The card is still there, close to you, but now, in his presence, you can’t ignore what really matters. His concern, his sweetness, his sincerity... all of that makes you question what you once desired with such fervor.
Finally, you take a deep breath, as if letting go of everything you’ve been holding inside. You look Jun-ho in the eyes, and with a sigh, you feel the weight on your chest lighten.
"I promise," you respond finally, your voice barely audible, but full of certainty. And for the first time in a long time, you feel that the most important decision you’ve made is the right one.
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ijustmissyouraccenths · 2 days ago
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Boyfriends
Based around the song Boyfriends by Harry Styles
Word count: 9,985
Content warning: fighting, cursing, mentions of alcohol and a lot of angst.
A little over two years ago
The concert was electric, every beat of the music reverberating through Y/N’s chest as she moved through the press pit with her camera. She’d already taken dozens of photos—Harry under the spotlight, interacting with the crowd, lost in the music but she knew her best work came from capturing the moments no one else saw.
As the final notes of the encore rang out, she noticed the security team starting to guide photographers toward the exit. Her mind raced. She couldn’t leave yet. Not when there was a chance to get the kind of candid shots that would set her portfolio apart from the rest of her competitors. 
She slung her camera strap tighter over her shoulder and approached one of the large security guards standing near the backstage entrance.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice steady despite her pounding heart. “I know I’m supposed to head out, but I’d really love to capture some candid shots of Harry as he comes off stage. It would tell such a story.”
The guard raised an eyebrow. “Not sure that’s allowed. Press isn’t usually permitted back there. Private.”
“Please,” Y/N insisted, her tone earnest. “I promise I won’t get in the way. Just a few quick shots, and I’ll be out of there. I promise.”
The guard hesitated, studying her for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. But if anyone asks, I didn’t see you.”
“Thank you!” she said, already slipping past him toward the backstage area.
She hurried down the dimly lit hallway, her sneakers squeaking faintly on the polished floor. The muffled roar of the crowd faded behind her, replaced by the sounds of crew members breaking down equipment and distant chatter. This is what she lived for. 
Just as she rounded a corner, the door to the stage swung open, and there he was towel slung over one shoulder, his face glowing with sweat and adrenaline. Y/N froze, momentarily stunned.
Harry’s eyes landed on her, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Well, aren’t you persistent? Must’ve made a pretty convincing case to the security team.” he said, his voice warm and teasing.
Y/N blinked, her grip tightening on her camera. “I just… I wanted to get some shots of you coming off stage. It’s where the magic happens, right?”
He chuckled, running a hand through his damp curls. “Magic, huh? I don’t know about that. Mostly sweat and bad jokes back here.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” she quipped, raising her camera slightly as if to ask for permission.
Harry tilted his head, his smile softening. “Go ahead, photographer. Show me what you’ve got.”
Y/N didn’t waste another second. 
A few weeks later 
The small Italian restaurant was tucked into a quiet corner of New York, dimly lit with candles flickering on each table. It was the kind of place where conversations were hushed, and the aroma of garlic and fresh bread filled the air. Y/N sat across from Harry, her hands wrapped around a glass of red wine, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest as he leaned back, effortlessly relaxed.
“So,” Harry began, a faint smirk on his lips. “I have to ask, do you always beg security guards to let you backstage, or was that just a one-time thing?”
Y/N laughed, her cheeks warming. “I wasn’t begging. I was persuading. There’s a difference and hey! It worked.”
“Right,” he said, drawing out the word playfully. “Well, whatever it was I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so determined to take pictures of me covered in sweat.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her amusement. “I was trying to capture the moment—the real you. Not the polished, on-stage version.”
Harry tilted his head, his gaze softening. “That’s what caught my attention, you know. I mean, I’ve had photographers at shows before, but you…  had this fire. Like you weren’t just there for the job, you cared about it.”
Y/N’s fingers traced the stem of her wine glass as she looked at him, surprised. “You noticed all that?”
“Of course,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You were practically sprinting down the hallway to get the shot. I remember thinking, ‘Who is this girl, and why is she running so fast?’”
She laughed, trying to play it cool. “It’s my job. I just wanted to do it well.”
Harry’s smile widened. “Well, you did. The way you didn’t hesitate to push for what you wanted. Most people don’t do that around me. I liked it.”
 Y/N raised an eyebrow, her confidence returning. “And what about you? Most people would’ve just walked past me, but you stopped. Why?”
He took a sip of his wine, considering her question. “Maybe I liked the challenge. You didn’t seem fazed by all the… ‘Harry Styles’ stuff. You were just yourself. It was refreshing.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, but she kept her tone light. “So, basically, you’re saying I charmed my way into your good graces?”
“Exactly,” Harry said with a grin. “And now, here we are. A photographer and her subject having pasta in a little New York restaurant. Life’s funny like that.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe,” he teased, his voice low. “But I’m glad you begged that security guard. Makes for a good story.”
Y/N couldn’t help but smile. 
Present day
The faint sound of an alarm broke the quiet of the early morning, its persistent buzz pulling Y/N from sleep. She groaned, rolling over and burying her face into the pillow, trying to block out the noise. At the foot of the bed, her chubby orange cat, Teddy, stretched lazily, his tail flicking in mild irritation at the disturbance.
The bed shifted slightly as Harry moved beside her. She peeked one eye open to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging on a pair of flare jeans. His hair was a tousled mess, and he was moving with the sluggishness of someone who hadn’t had enough coffee yet.
“Harry?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Where are you going?”
He glanced back at her, already reaching for a hoodie draped over the chair. “Studio,” he said simply, his tone casual.
Y/N sat up slightly, blinking at him in confusion. “The studio? But… we were supposed to go to the market today. Remember? We talked about it all week.”
Harry froze for a moment, his hand paused mid-reach for his phone on the nightstand. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, right. Sorry, love. Totally slipped my mind.”
She stared at him, the sting of his words sinking in. “You forgot?”
“It’s just been busy,” he said, his voice tinged with exasperation—not at her, but at himself. “You could still go, though. Pick up a few things for us?” He gave her a small smile, as if that would smooth things over.
Y/N frowned, leaning back against the headboard. “So, you want me to go alone? After we planned this together?”
“It’s not that I want you to,” he replied, clearly sensing her frustration. “I just can’t get out of the session. It’s important.”
Her chest tightened, the hurt creeping in despite her best efforts to brush it off. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Lately, the studio seemed to take priority over everything else.
“Right,” she said quietly, her tone laced with disappointment. “I’ll go. Don’t worry about it.”
Harry’s brows furrowed, and he stepped closer to her side of the bed. “Y/N, I’m not trying to upset you. I just need to get this done.”
She looked up at him, her expression guarded. “I know. I get it. You’re busy. It just… feels like you’re always too busy these days.”
His face softened, guilt flashing in his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond but seemed to think better of it, instead leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Y/N forced a small smile, watching as he grabbed his keys and slipped out of the room, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing in the quiet.
She let out a sigh, glancing at Teddy, who had barely stirred from his spot at the foot of the bed. “Looks like it’s just you and me today, buddy.”
Teddy let out a sleepy meow, as if in agreement, and Y/N pulled the covers closer, wondering how long she could keep pretending this didn’t bother her as much as it did.
After getting dressed and going solo to the market Y/N sat on the couch in their London apartment, absently scrolling through her phone. The soft hum of the city filtered through the windows, but inside, the space felt eerily quiet. Teddy, her ever-loyal orange cat, was curled up beside her, his rhythmic purring the only sound in the room.
For weeks now, it had been the same routine. Harry would wake up early, leaving the house before she’d even fully opened her eyes, and come home late, exhaustion etched across his features. He was always kind, always apologetic in his soft-spoken way, but the words “I’m sorry, love” were beginning to feel hollow.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. She did. Harry was driven, passionate about his music, and that was one of the things she loved most about him. But lately, his determination felt more like a wall between them than something to admire.
She let her phone drop onto the coffee table and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. Every time she tried to bring it up—how distant he seemed, how much she missed him—she felt silly, selfish even. His work was important, and she didn’t want to be the needy girlfriend who couldn’t handle his busy schedule.
But it hurt.
It hurt to feel like she was always the second priority, to have their plans constantly pushed aside for another recording session, another photoshoot, another promotional event. It hurt to go to bed alone and wake up to an empty side of the bed, save for Teddy’s occasional company.
She ran her hands through her hair, letting out a slow breath.
Y/N didn’t need grand gestures or romantic getaways. She didn’t need a fancy dinner or expensive gifts. She just wanted Harry—the Harry who used to stay up late talking with her about anything and everything, the Harry who’d pull her into his arms for a kiss in the middle of the kitchen, the Harry who used to make her feel like the center of his world.
But now? Now it felt like she was living with a ghost of him, someone who passed through their apartment in a blur of schedules and commitments.
Teddy shifted beside her, his big green eyes blinking up at her as if sensing her mood. She scratched behind his ears, her lips tugging into a faint smile.
“I don’t know, Ted,” she said softly. “How do you tell someone you love them, but you’re starting to hate how they make you feel?”
The cat let out a small chirp in response, and she let out a half-hearted laugh.
Y/N shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before everything boiled over. She could only hold it in for so long. She did what any girl would do and called her best friend for a girls night. 
Y/N paced back and forth in the kitchen, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. Teddy watched her from his spot on the counter, his tail flicking lazily as if he could feel the tension radiating from her.
“Addy, are you busy tonight?” Y/N asked, trying to keep her voice steady but failing miserably.
“Not particularly,” Addy replied, the faint clinking of dishes in the background suggesting she was doing something mundane. “Why? What’s up?”
“I need to rant,” Y/N said, letting out a heavy sigh. “Like, properly rant. Maybe cry a little. You free for a sleepover? I’ll bring wine.”
Addy didn’t hesitate. “Of course, babe. Get over here. I’ll grab the blankets and make a snack spread. You know I never say no to wine and a vent session.”
Y/N felt a small smile tug at her lips, a flicker of relief breaking through her frustration. “You’re a lifesaver, Addy. Seriously.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Addy said, her tone warm. “Now hurry up. We’ve got wine to drink and whining to do.”
Y/N laughed lightly, though her chest still felt heavy. “Be there soon.”
She hung up the call and turned to Teddy, who was now licking his paw as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Alright, buddy, you’re in charge while I’m gone,” she said, grabbing his food bowl and refilling it. Teddy let out a small meow of approval, hopping down to inspect his meal.
Y/N moved quickly, tossing a few essentials into an overnight bag: her favorite pajamas, a toothbrush, her phone charger. She grabbed the bottle of wine she’d been saving and gave Teddy one last scratch behind the ears before locking the door behind her.
The short walk to Addy’s flat was brisk and refreshing, the cold London air biting against her cheeks. She tried to let the walk clear her head, but her thoughts kept circling back to Harry, to the way things had been lately, to how exhausted she felt.
By the time she reached Addy’s building and knocked on the door, she was ready to collapse. Addy flung the door open, already in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, her face lighting up when she saw Y/N.
“There she is!” Addy exclaimed, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. “Come in, wine queen. We’ve got a couch, snacks, and a whole lot of ranting to do.”
Y/N laughed, the warmth of her best friend’s embrace melting away some of the weight she’d been carrying. “You have no idea how much I need this.”
“Trust me, I do,” Addy said, ushering her inside. “Now, start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”
As Y/N sank into the couch, wine glass in hand and Addy by her side, she felt a flicker of hope that maybe—just maybe—she could figure this out. But for now, she was grateful to have someone who would listen without judgment. Someone who just got it.
The first glass of wine went down smoothly, maybe too smoothly. Y/N poured herself another before Addy even finished her first, and by the time they’d gotten halfway through the second bottle, the conversation had turned raw and unfiltered.
Y/N leaned back into the couch, her cheeks flushed—not just from the wine, but from the surge of emotions she’d been bottling up for weeks. She swirled the last bit of wine in her glass and sighed.
“I don’t even know why I’m so upset anymore,” she said, her voice tight. “It’s not like it’s new. Harry’s been… distant. Detached. Nonchalant, even. Like, I could’ve told him I was leaving tonight, and I swear he wouldn’t have noticed.”
Addy frowned, pulling her knees up onto the couch. “Are you serious? He didn’t even ask where you were going?”
Y/N shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “Nope. He probably assumed I’d just be home when he got back—like always. That’s the thing, Addy. He doesn’t notice anything anymore. It’s like I’m… invisible to him.”
Addy’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Y/N, that’s not okay. You’re not a piece of furniture. You’re his girlfriend. He should be noticing you.”
Y/N stared at her glass, her voice quieter now. “We barely even talk anymore. It’s all ‘Sorry, love, the studio ran late,’ or ‘Can you handle this for me?’ It’s like I’m his roommate, not his partner. And the worst part?” She swallowed hard, her chest tightening. “We haven’t been… close. Like, at all. No hugs, no kisses, no… sex. It’s been weeks, Addy. I don’t even know if he wants me anymore.”
Addy’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I was,” Y/N muttered, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “And I’ve tried, you know? I’ve dropped hints, I’ve made plans, I’ve even dressed up when he’s home just to get his attention. But it’s like he’s so caught up in everything else that I’m… I’m not even on his radar.”
Addy put her wine glass down and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “Hey, listen to me. This isn’t about you. Harry is clearly drowning in his own world, and he’s taking you for granted. That’s on him—it’s just what boys do.”
Y/N leaned her head against Addy’s shoulder, her voice breaking. “I just miss him. I miss us. The way we used to be, you know? When we’d spend hours talking, when he’d grab me and kiss me just because. I miss feeling like I mattered to him.”
Addy tightened her hold, her voice firm. “You do matter, Y/N. He’s just too wrapped up in himself to see it right now. But you deserve better than this—better than feeling like you’re waiting around for scraps of his time.”
Y/N sniffed, her tears finally spilling over. “I don’t even know how to talk to him about it without feeling like I’m nagging. What if he’s just… over it? Over me?”
Addy pulled back slightly, looking Y/N in the eyes. “If he’s over it, then he’s a bloody idiot. But you need to talk to him, Y/N. You can’t keep holding all this in. It’s going to eat you alive.”
Y/N nodded slowly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “You’re right. I just… I’m scared, Addy. What if I say something, and it doesn’t change anything?”
“Then you’ll know where you stand,” Addy said softly. “And you can decide what’s next. But no matter what, I’ve got you. Always.”
Y/N managed a small smile, her heart aching but lighter knowing she didn’t have to face this alone. For tonight, though, she let herself sink into the comfort of her best friend and another glass of wine, the weight of her worries just a little easier to bear.
The morning light filtered through the thin curtains in Addy’s living room, waking Y/N from a restless sleep. The pull-out couch wasn’t exactly luxurious, but after the wine and emotional exhaustion from the night before, she hadn’t cared.
She rubbed her eyes and reached for her phone on the coffee table, squinting at the screen. A notification from Harry stared back at her, and her heart sank as she opened the text.
Harry:
Would’ve been nice if you told me you weren’t coming home last night.
The words were short and clipped, and Y/N could almost feel the passive-aggressive undertone seeping through. She stared at the screen for a moment, a mix of guilt and frustration bubbling up in her chest.
“Seriously?” she muttered under her breath, sitting up and running a hand through her hair.
Teddy’s bowl had been full, the apartment was clean, and it wasn’t like she had disappeared without a trace. But still, Harry managed to make her feel like she was the one in the wrong.
She typed out a response, her fingers hesitating for a moment before hitting send.
Y/N:
I stayed at Addy’s. I forgot to let you know. Sorry.
She tossed the phone onto the cushion beside her and let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch. Her chest tightened with the familiar ache that had been building for weeks.
“Everything okay?” Addy’s voice came from the kitchen. She appeared moments later, a mug of coffee in hand, still in her pajamas.
Y/N looked up and gave her a weak smile. “Harry texted me. He’s annoyed I didn’t tell him I wasn’t coming home.”
Addy raised an eyebrow as she handed Y/N the coffee. “He’s annoyed? The same Harry who’s been barely speaking to you and blowing off plans left and right?”
Y/N shrugged, wrapping her hands around the warm mug. “Yeah, that Harry.”
Addy flopped onto the armchair across from her. “Honestly, I don’t know whether to laugh or scream. He has no right to guilt-trip you after how he’s been acting. He sure knows how to get under your skin.”
Y/N sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. “I don’t think he meant to guilt-trip me. It’s just… I don’t know, Addy. Everything feels so off between us. Even little things like this turn into a thing.”
“Because he’s not giving you what you need,” Addy said bluntly. “You wouldn’t feel this way if he was showing up for you. Instead, he’s putting all this effort into everything else and leaving you with scraps. It’s not fair, Y/N.”
Y/N bit her lip, staring down at the coffee in her hands. “I know it’s not fair. But I still love him, Addy. I just… don’t know how to fix this.”
Addy leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You shouldn’t have to fix this alone, babe. He’s your partner. He should be just as invested in making things work. If he’s not, that’s on him, not you.”
Y/N nodded, but the knot in her stomach didn’t ease. She glanced at her phone again, tempted to say more, but decided against it. Instead she got herself together and said goodbye to Addy before making the short trip back to her home. 
Y/N unlocked the door to her apartment, still groggy and in her pajamas, her head pounding from last night’s wine. She stepped inside and was greeted by Teddy, who meowed loudly as if scolding her for being gone.
“Morning, Teddy,” she muttered, bending down to scratch his head before kicking off her shoes.
When she looked up, she froze. Harry was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, his phone in his hand. It was rare to see him home at this hour, and for a moment, she was too surprised to say anything.
He glanced up at her, his expression unreadable. “Nice of you to finally come home,” he said, his voice calm but with a cutting edge. “I thought maybe we could’ve done something today, but you were gone and by the looks of it, hungover.”
Y/N blinked at him, her exhaustion giving way to irritation. “Are you serious right now?”
Harry leaned back into the couch, raising an eyebrow. “What? I’m just saying, it would’ve been nice to know where you were.”
Her frustration boiled over, the tension that had been building for weeks finally snapping. “Oh, you mean like all the times we made plans, and you bailed on me? Is that what you’re talking about, Harry? Because if we’re keeping track, you’ve canceled on me more times than I can count.”
Harry rolled his eyes, his tone dismissive. “Here we go again.”
“No, seriously,” Y/N said, her voice rising. “Do you have any idea how it feels to be constantly put second? To have you forget about us because you’re busy with your career? And then you have the nerve to act like I’m the one in the wrong because I stayed at Addy’s for one night?”
Harry set his phone down, looking at her with a mix of annoyance and exasperation. “I don’t have time for this right now. You’re blowing things out of proportion. I’m working hard and you’re acting selfish.”
Y/N stared at him, her mouth falling open. “Selfish? Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been here, Harry. I picked up my life and moved here. To be with you. To be close to you. I am here waiting for you, supporting you, picking up the pieces of this relationship while you put me on the back burner. And now I’m selfish because I’m upset that you don’t seem to care anymore?”
He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “I never said I didn’t care. But I can’t drop everything just to make you happy. I have obligations, Y/N. I thought you understood that.”
“I do understand,” she snapped, her voice trembling. “But what about your obligation to me? Or does that not matter anymore?”
The room fell silent, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. Harry looked at her, his expression softening just slightly, as if he hadn’t realized how deep the cracks had gotten.
Y/N swallowed hard, her voice quieter now. “I’m not asking you to drop everything, Harry. I’m asking you to show me that I matter to you. That we matter, even if it’s only for a few hours.”
Harry opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, the weight of her words settling over him. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t have a quick answer, and that silence spoke louder than anything he could’ve said.
With that, she turned and walked toward the bedroom, leaving Harry sitting on the couch. 
Y/N scooped Teddy up on her way to the bedroom, the orange fluffball letting out a small chirp of protest before settling into her arms. She pressed her face into his fur, taking comfort in his warmth as she turned back to look at Harry, still sitting on the couch.
“Well,” she said bitterly, her voice carrying just enough to make her point, “at least Teddy will spend time with me.”
Harry didn’t respond, his face unreadable as she turned away and headed down the hallway. She pushed open the bedroom door, setting Teddy down gently on the bed. He immediately curled up in his usual spot, his tail flicking as Y/N climbed in beside him.
Pulling the blankets around her, she stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts swirling. The fight had drained her, but her mind wouldn’t stop replaying everything—Harry’s dismissive tone, the way he had rolled his eyes at her, the frustration and sadness that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her chest.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to think of something better, something good. Slowly, her thoughts drifted to the earlier days of their relationship, when everything felt effortless and magical.
Like the time Harry had surprised her with a trip to Disneyland Paris.
She smiled faintly at the memory, her heart aching with nostalgia. It had been just over a year into their relationship, and she’d mentioned in passing one night how she’d always dreamed of going but never had the chance. She hadn’t thought much of it—just another drowsy late-night conversation between them—but Harry had clearly been paying attention.
He’d woken her up early one morning, a mischievous grin on his face. “Pack a bag,” he’d said, barely able to contain his excitement. “We’re going on an adventure.”
She’d laughed, confused but thrilled as he refused to give her any details. It wasn’t until they were at the airport, with two tickets to Paris in his hand, that she realized what he had planned.
“You didn’t,” she had whispered, staring at him in disbelief.
“I did,” he’d replied, his grin widening. “What’s the point of dreaming if you don’t make it happen?”
The trip had been everything she’d hoped for and more. They’d spent the days running from ride to ride, indulging in too many churros, and taking pictures in front of the castle. He’d bought her a pair of Minnie Mouse ears, which she’d worn the entire time despite teasing him for wearing his matching Mickey ears.
And at night, under the glow of the fireworks, he’d wrapped his arms around her and kissed her like they were the only two people in the world.
It was one of the most thoughtful, romantic things anyone had ever done for her, and it had cemented her belief that Harry was someone special—someone who truly saw her.
Now, lying in bed, those memories felt like they belonged to a different time, a different version of them. She glanced down at Teddy, who had dozed off at her side, his soft purring filling the silence.
“How did we get here, Ted?” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Teddy didn’t respond, of course, but his presence was steady, a small comfort in the midst of her swirling emotions.
She rolled onto her side, clutching a pillow to her chest as tears silently slipped down her cheeks. She missed the Harry from those days—the one who surprised her with trips, who laughed with her over burnt pancakes, who made her feel like the center of his world.
Y/N stirred slightly when she heard the quiet creak of the bedroom door opening. She kept her eyes closed, her breathing steady, even as she felt the bed shift under Harry’s weight. He laid down beside her, the mattress dipping slightly as he settled in.
The faint scent of alcohol hit her almost immediately, making her chest tighten. Her eyes opened just a fraction, though she remained on her side, facing away from him. Had he been drinking?
Her heart sank further. Of course, he had every right to do what he wanted—he was an adult, after all. And after the way she’d walked home hungover this morning, she didn’t exactly have the moral high ground to say anything about it.
But still.
The thought of him out, drinking alone or with people who weren’t her, only deepened the ache that had been gnawing at her all day. It wasn’t about the drinking itself—it was about the growing distance between them, the choices they both seemed to be making that pushed them further apart.
She lay there in silence, staring at the faint shadows dancing across the wall. Part of her wanted to roll over, to ask him where he’d been or why he smelled like tequila. But another part of her—the tired, frustrated, heartbroken part—couldn’t muster the energy for another confrontation.
Instead, she stayed still, her hand resting gently on Teddy’s fur as he purred softly in his sleep. She could feel Harry’s presence beside her, close enough to touch, yet it felt like there was an ocean between them.
After a moment, she heard him exhale deeply, the bed shifting slightly as he adjusted his position. She wondered if he was awake, if he was thinking about the fight they’d had earlier, if he even realized how much she missed him.
But no words came. The silence stretched between them, heavy and unyielding.
The next morning, Y/N forced herself out of bed despite the heaviness that still lingered from the night before. Teddy trailed behind her as she shuffled around the apartment, gathering her gear for the day’s photo shoots. She threw on a comfortable outfit, pulled her hair into a loose bun, and grabbed her camera bag, trying to shake off the lingering ache in her chest.
Photography had always been her escape. It didn’t matter if she was capturing sweaty concerts or snapping portraits of families; behind the lens, she felt purposeful. Grounded.
The day passed quickly as she moved between locations, her subjects ranging from a young couple celebrating an anniversary to a family of five with a rambunctious toddler. She smiled, laughed, and gave her all to each session, momentarily forgetting the tension waiting for her at home.
When the shoots were done, she wandered the streets of London, her camera still slung over her shoulder. The city was alive with people, the winter air crisp as she strolled past cafés and flower shops. She pretended to savor her independence, stopping to snap a few shots of the bustling streets, but the nagging loneliness in her chest was impossible to ignore.
By the time she returned home, the sun had set, and the apartment was dark and quiet. She dropped her bag by the door, kicking off her shoes as Teddy padded over to greet her.
“Hey, buddy,” she murmured, scooping him up for a quick cuddle. The silence in the apartment felt heavier than usual, and she sighed as she put him down and reached for her phone.
She typed out a quick text to Harry:
Y/N:
Hey, are you going to be home for dinner? I was thinking of ordering Chinese.
She stared at the screen for a moment, willing the typing bubble to appear. But it didn’t. After a few minutes, she gave up and placed the order anyway, opting for her usual dishes.
By the time the food arrived, Harry still hadn’t responded. She ate quietly at the table, Teddy perched on a nearby chair, his curious gaze following every bite.
It wasn’t until later that night that she heard the front door open. Harry walked in, his jacket slung over one arm and his keys jangling in his hand. She turned to look at him from the couch, immediately catching the faint scent of alcohol.
“Hey,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice even. “I texted you earlier. I was going to order Chinese. Thought maybe we could eat together.”
Harry glanced at her, his expression neutral. “I was with the band,” he said, his tone casual as he set his keys on the counter.
Her chest tightened. “I would’ve liked to come out with you,” she said, standing up and crossing her arms. “It’s been ages since we’ve done something together, Harry.”
He looked at her, an edge of defensiveness in his eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal, Y/N. Just me and the guys. You wouldn’t have wanted to sit around and listen to us talk about music all night.”
Her frustration bubbled to the surface. “You don’t know that! You didn’t even ask. I would’ve loved to just… be there with you. Spend time with you.”
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not like I’m trying to exclude you. I just—”
“You just don’t think about me anymore,” she interrupted, her voice quieter now but no less hurt. “Do you even realize how lonely it’s been, Harry? You come home late, you barely talk to me, and now you’re out drinking with the band while I’m here eating takeout by myself.”
He stared at her, his jaw tightening. “I’m doing the best I can, Y/N. You think this is easy for me?”
“No, Harry, I don’t think it’s easy,” she shot back. “But it’s not supposed to be just you. It’s supposed to be us. And lately, it feels like I’m the only one trying to hold onto that.”
The silence that followed was deafening. He looked away, his lips pressed into a thin line, and she felt the familiar ache in her chest grow heavier.
Without another word, she turned and headed toward the bedroom as she had been night after night, and of course with Teddy trailing behind her. 
Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands, trying to steady the rush of emotions building inside her. Teddy rubbed against her legs, offering silent comfort, but her chest still felt impossibly heavy. She heard Harry’s footsteps approaching and tensed, unsure if she had the energy for yet another argument.
When the door opened, she glanced up to see him standing in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame. For a moment, she thought he might apologize—finally acknowledge the hurt he’d been causing her.
But instead, his tone was sharp. “You’re always making this about you, Y/N. Do you ever stop to think about the pressure I’m under? Or is it just easier to sit here and point fingers or bitch at me?”
Her jaw dropped, the sting of his words hitting harder than she expected. “Are you serious right now?” she asked, her voice trembling with both anger and disbelief. “Did you come in here just to insult me?”
Harry’s expression shifted, the fire in his eyes dimming as her words seemed to sink in. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he said quietly, his voice faltering. “That’s not… I didn’t mean it like that.”
“But you said it,” she replied, her tone cold as she stood and faced him. “If you’re under so much pressure, why don’t you talk to me about it instead of shutting me out and turning to alcohol? Why am I the one who has to sit here, waiting, wondering if you even care anymore?”
Harry looked at her, guilt flashing across his face, but he didn’t have an answer. His silence spoke volumes.
Y/N nodded slowly, her mind made up in that moment. She couldn’t keep living like this, caught in the limbo of his neglect and her own heartache. “You know what? I think I need some space. I think weneed some space.”
His brows furrowed, his lips parting as if to argue, but she cut him off.
“I’m going to fly home and spend some time with my family,” she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “You need to figure out what you really want, Harry. Because this—” she gestured between them—“this isn’t working. And it’s not just on me to fix it.”
Harry hesitated, his expression torn. “You don’t have to—”
“No,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “I do. And you need to do some real soul searching while I’m gone. Drinking in secret, shutting me out… that’s not going to help you or our failing relationship. You can’t keep running from whatever it is that’s eating away at you.”
He didn’t protest, didn’t argue. Instead, he simply nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor.
The lack of resistance stung more than she cared to admit, but it also solidified her decision. If he wasn’t willing to fight for them, she couldn’t keep fighting alone.
Y/N took a deep breath, stepping past him and grabbing her suitcase from the closet. As she started packing, she felt a strange mix of sadness and relief.
The next morning, Y/N woke up with a knot in her stomach. The decision she had made the night before still felt right, but that didn’t make it any easier. She moved through the motions quietly, packing her suitcase and making sure Teddy had enough room in his carrier. The orange fluffball meowed pitifully as she zipped him inside, his big eyes watching her with a mix of curiosity and confusion.
“I know, buddy,” she said softly, rubbing a hand over the top of the carrier. “We need this. Trust me.”
The cab ride to the airport was quiet, the city slipping past in a blur. She avoided looking at her phone, unwilling to see if Harry had texted or called. She doubted he had.
Hours later, she landed in upstate New York, the cold January air biting at her as she stepped outside the small airport. Her cousin Mia was already there, leaning against her car, arms crossed and a scarf wrapped snugly around her neck.
As soon as Y/N walked over, dragging her suitcase and holding Teddy’s carrier, Mia’s sharp gaze zeroed in on her. “Okay, spill. What the fuck happened? And why did you just up and leave your international pop star boyfriend?”
Y/N sighed, her breath fogging in the icy air as she loaded Teddy into the backseat. “Can we maybe not do this in the parking lot?”
“Nope.” Mia slammed the trunk shut after tossing in Y/N’s suitcase and leaned against the car door, refusing to budge. “You flew across the Atlantic with your cat. That screams big drama, and I need the tea, like, yesterday.”
Y/N groaned, running a hand through her hair as she leaned against the car next to Mia. “It’s complicated, okay?”
“It always is,” Mia replied, her tone both sarcastic and supportive. “But I’m gonna need more than that. Did he cheat? Is he secretly married? What’s the deal?”
Y/N shot her a glare. “No, nothing like that. He’s just… he’s been distant. Forgetting plans, working all the time, barely talking to me. It’s like I don’t even exist to him anymore.”
Mia tilted her head, studying her cousin. “Okay, so he’s an idiot. Got it. But why leave? Why not just, I don’t know, call him out on his bullshit?”
“I did,” Y/N said, her voice cracking slightly. “I tried, Mia. I tried so many times. And last night, he…” She paused, swallowing hard. “He came home smelling like alcohol again, and when I told him I would’ve liked to go out with him, he said it wasn’t a big deal, like I didn’t matter. And then he had the nerve to call me selfish when I got upset.”
Mia’s jaw dropped, and she raised a hand. “Oh, hell no. He did not.”
Y/N nodded, her chest tightening as the memory of the fight replayed in her mind. “So, I told him I needed space. That I was coming home for a bit, and he needed to figure out what he wants. And he just… let me go.”
Mia let out a long whistle, shaking her head. “Okay, first of all, good for you for leaving. Second of all, what an absolute dumbass. Like, I’m sure he’s charming and hot and whatever, but damn, girl, he doesn’t deserve you acting like this.”
Y/N let out a small laugh despite herself. “You don’t even know him.”
“I don’t need to know him,” Mia said with a shrug. “I know you. And if he’s making you feel like shit, then he’s not doing his job as your boyfriend.”
Y/N nodded, her heart feeling a little lighter for the first time in days. “Thanks, Mia.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Mia said, opening the car door. “We’re gonna fix this. Either he pulls his head out of his ass, or we find you a hot new boyfriend who actually knows how to treat you right. Deal?”
Y/N smiled, climbing into the passenger seat. “Deal.”
As Mia started the car and pulled out of the lot, Y/N leaned back in her seat, gazing out at the snowy landscape. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she needed to be.
Over the next few weeks, Y/N poured herself into rediscovering the things she loved, the parts of herself that had been lost in the haze of her strained relationship. She spent her days hiking the trails of upstate New York, taking in the crisp air and breathtaking views, her camera always in tow. At night, she indulged in greasy slices of pizza from her favorite childhood spot, the simple comfort of it reminding her of easier times.
She found herself smiling more, laughing louder, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was living for herself again. The weight that had pressed on her chest back in London had begun to lift, replaced with a growing sense of independence and self-assurance.
One night, Mia announced that it was time for a proper girls’ night out. “You’ve been hiking and taking artsy photos long enough,” Mia teased, rummaging through Y/N’s suitcase. “We’re hitting the clubs tonight. You, me, and some dangerously overpriced cocktails.”
Y/N laughed, watching as Mia held up a dress she hadn’t worn in months. “I don’t know, Mia. I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of scene again.”
Mia rolled her eyes, tossing the dress at her. “Nonsense. You need this. Trust me.”
Hours later, Y/N found herself in a crowded club, the bass thumping so hard she could feel it in her chest. She’d forgotten how freeing it felt to just let go, to dance without a care in the world, the swirl of neon lights and the buzz of tequila making everything feel lighter.
Mia kept her entertained with her usual wit, sharing hilarious, sometimes borderline chaotic stories about her own life. Y/N laughed until her sides hurt, her worries melting away with every sip of her drink.
“Okay, okay,” Mia said, holding up her hands as they stood by the bar for a breather. “You remember that guy I told you about—the one with the weird obsession with his bonsai trees?”
Y/N snorted into her drink. “How could I forget?”
“Well,” Mia continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “turns out he didn’t just have bonsai trees. He had dollhouses. Like, full-on, hand-painted dollhouses. I walked into his apartment, and it was like stepping into a miniaturized version of my nightmare.”
Y/N burst out laughing, nearly spilling her drink. “You’re kidding!”
“I wish I was,” Mia said with a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, that’s why I’ve sworn off dating guys who call themselves ‘artists.’”
The two of them dissolved into laughter, the kind of deep, genuine laughter that made Y/N’s cheeks ache. She hadn’t felt this carefree in months.
As the night went on, Y/N found herself dancing again, her body moving instinctively to the rhythm of the music. She felt alive, untethered, and—for the first time in a long time—free.
Mia nudged her at one point, grinning mischievously. “See? I told you this was a good idea.”
Y/N nodded, her smile wide as she looked around the room. “Yeah. You were right. I needed this.”
And in that moment, as she twirled on the dance floor with her best friend cousin by her side, she realized that she was falling in love again—not with someone else, but with herself.
The morning light streamed through the windows as Y/N stood over the stove, flipping bacon while Mia chopped fruit at the counter. The apartment smelled of coffee and breakfast, the comforting sounds of sizzling and light chatter filling the space.
A sudden knock at the door broke the rhythm.
Both girls froze, glancing at each other. “You expecting anyone?” Y/N asked, eyebrows raised.
“Nope,” Mia replied, setting the knife down. “Probably Amazon or maybe bonsai guy finally returning to plead his case.” She smirked and tossed the dish towel over her shoulder.
“Go see who it is,” Y/N said, flipping the bacon. “And hurry back before this burns.”
“On it.” Mia walked to the door, muttering about early-morning interruptions as she swung it open.
She froze, her hand gripping the door, her mouth falling open. “Holy fuck,” she said, her voice loud and full of shock.
“What?” Y/N called, turning away from the stove, confused by Mia’s tone. “Who is it?”
When Mia didn’t answer, Y/N wiped her hands on her pajama pants and walked toward the door. Her heart started to race, a strange tension settling in her chest.
As she reached the entryway, she saw him.
Harry.
He stood there in the hallway, looking slightly disheveled, his hair messy, his coat hanging open. His expression was a mix of determination and something softer, something that made Y/N’s breath catch in her throat.
Their eyes met, and for a long moment, the world seemed to stop.
“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of everything left unsaid.
She froze, her hands still at her sides, her mind racing as she tried to process the fact that he was here—standing on the doorstep of Mia’s apartment in upstate New York.
From the kitchen, Mia called out, “Do I keep the bacon going, or are we about to have a soap opera moment?”
But Y/N didn’t respond. Her eyes stayed locked on Harry, her chest tightening as she waited for him to say something more.
Y/N’s shock quickly gave way to a mix of confusion and irritation as she stared at Harry, standing there like he belonged on her cousin’s doorstep in the middle of upstate New York. Her arms crossed instinctively, and she narrowed her eyes.
“What are you doing here, Harry?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended. “How did you even find me?”
He shifted on his feet, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. “You still had your location on,” he said simply, his voice calm. Y/n felt a little dumb for not realizing she forgot to turn that off. Even then, he had connections and could’ve easily found out where she was. 
Y/N’s jaw dropped, her confusion boiling with frustration. “You tracked me?”
“You didn’t answer my calls or texts and your phone went straight to voicemail,” he replied, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
Her heart pounded in her chest, anger bubbling up. “If you’re here to try and convince me to come home. I’m not going back.”
“I’m not asking you to come home,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze. “I just want to talk. That’s all.”
She stared at him, searching his face for any sign of an ulterior motive, her mind racing. Before she could respond, Mia’s voice cut through the tense silence.
“Y/N, for the love of God, if you��re going to yell at him, do it outside,” Mia called from the kitchen, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I have neighbors, and I don’t want them thinking we’re hosting some kind of reality TV reunion in here.”
Y/N clenched her jaw, letting out a frustrated breath as she glanced back at Mia, who was leaning against the counter, arms crossed with an amused expression.
“Fine,” Y/N muttered, turning back to Harry. She grabbed her coat from the hook by the door and stepped outside, letting the door click shut behind her. The cold air bit at her cheeks, but she barely noticed as she faced Harry again.
The cold morning air hung around them as they walked down the quiet, woodsy street, the crunch of gravel under their shoes the only sound at first. Y/N kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her jaw clenched as she waited for Harry to speak. He walked beside her, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, his head slightly bowed.
Finally, after a few minutes, he broke the silence. “I royally fucked up,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I took you for granted, Y/N. I thought… I thought you’d always be there, no matter how much I messed up, no matter how distant I got. And that was wrong.”
His words lingered in the crisp air, but Y/N didn’t respond. She kept her eyes ahead, her steps brisk and determined.
When he didn’t say more, she stopped abruptly and turned to him, her voice sharp with frustration and hurt. “You’re right it was wrong, Harry. Do you even realize how much you’ve hurt me? How lonely I’ve felt these past few months?”
Harry stopped too, his gaze dropping to the ground.
Y/N took a deep breath, her words spilling out in a torrent. “You’ve been more intimate with the studio than you’ve been with me. Do you know how humiliating it is to feel like you’re competing with someone’s job? To watch you pour your passion into everything else?”
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t interrupt.
“And the worst part,” she continued, her voice breaking, “is that I thought… I thought we were heading toward something real, Harry. I thought maybe you’d propose soon, that we’d start building a life together or a family. But now? Now it feels like we’re just heading for a breakup.”
Her words hung heavy between them, the raw honesty of her pain hitting like a punch to the gut. Harry finally looked up, his expression anguished, but he still didn’t speak.
“You didn’t even fight for me when I left,” Y/N said, her voice quieter now but no less hurt. “You just let me go, like it didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.”
“I—” he started, but she held up a hand.
“No. Don’t say anything yet. Just… listen.”
He nodded silently, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.
“I love you,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I can’t keep doing this if you’re not going to meet me halfway. And if you can’t give me that, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”
The words came out heavier than she expected, the weight of them settling in her chest as she stared at him. For the first time since they’d started walking, Harry’s eyes locked on hers, a mix of guilt and something else—something she couldn’t quite place—flickering in his gaze.
But he didn’t interrupt. He just stood there, listening, the gravity of her words sinking in. And for once, Y/N felt like he truly heard her.
Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his hands still buried deep in his coat pockets. He looked at her, his jaw tightening for a moment before he let out a long breath.
“I don’t really know what to say,” he admitted quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. “Except that I’m sorry. For all of it.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes slightly, her arms still crossed as she waited for more. She wasn’t ready to let him off the hook so easily.
He looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… I’ve been a bloody idiot, Y/N. I didn’t realize how much I was messing this up until you left. And even then, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I’d already lost you.”
Her chest tightened, but she didn’t speak. She wanted him to get it all out.
“So, I—” He hesitated, his cheeks reddening slightly as he looked back at her. “I talked to my mum.”
Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “You talked to your mum about us?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t know who else to go to. She called me clueless—which, fair enough—but she also gave me some advice.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching despite her frustration. “Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”
Harry’s gaze softened, his voice dropping. “She told me to stop thinking about what’s easy for me and start thinking about what’s right for us. She said if I couldn’t figure out how to show you how much you mean to me, then I don’t deserve to have you in my life.”
Y/N stared at him, her heart twisting at the honesty in his voice.
“She also told me I’m a terrible communicator,” he added with a faint, self-deprecating smile. “And that I’ve probably made you feel like shit more than once without even realizing it.”
“Well, she’s not wrong,” Y/N said, her voice tinged with both irritation and something softer.
Harry nodded, his expression serious again. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N. I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. But I’m here because I don’t want to lose you. I want to be better—for you, for us. I just… I need a chance to prove it.”
She stood there, the cold air biting at her cheeks as she searched his face. There was something different about him now, something that felt raw and unguarded. She wasn’t sure if it was enough, but for the first time in weeks, she felt like he was truly seeing her.
She didn’t reply right away, letting his words hang in the air as she turned them over in her mind. Finally, she sighed and looked down at the ground. “You’ve got a lot to prove, Harry. And I’m not going to make it easy for you.”
His lips curved into the faintest smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair as the tension in her shoulders began to ease. She looked at Harry, his eyes still searching hers with an intensity that made her heart twist. Despite everything, despite the hurt and frustration, she couldn’t deny how much she missed him.
“I really missed you,” she admitted softly, her voice trembling just enough to make him lean closer. “Even when I was mad at you—even when I thought I couldn’t stand the sight of you—all I wanted to do was just… jump on you and kiss you. Hug you.”
Harry’s lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise and relief washing over his face. “You mean that?”
“Of course, I do,” she said, a small, rueful smile tugging at her lips. “I love you, Harry. That’s why this hurt so much. You’ve always been my person, and for a while there, I didn’t feel like yours anymore.”
His face softened, and he took a tentative step closer, his voice low. “You are, Y/N. You’ll always be my person. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t.”
The sincerity in his voice melted the last of her defenses, and she let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes. “You’re so lucky I love you. But you better believe I’m going to make you work for it.”
“I’m ready,” Harry said with a soft smile.
Y/N tilted her head, her smile widening as a thought crossed her mind. “You know, I’m a little embarrassed now.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
“Because,” she said, letting out a laugh, “I have to go back inside and tell Mia that we made up. And trust me, she was rooting for full-blown drama. She’s probably already drafting a speech about why I should dump you.”
Harry chuckled, his first genuine laugh of the morning. “Think she’ll let me stay for breakfast, or is that asking too much?”
Y/N smirked, shaking her head. “Don’t push your luck. But if you charm her enough, she might give you a piece of bacon.”
“Well, I’m pretty good at charming people,” he teased, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her.
Y/N rolled her eyes but leaned into him, finally letting herself relax in his embrace. She rested her head against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like things might actually be okay.
“Come on,” she said after a moment, pulling back slightly. “Let’s go face the dragon.”
Harry grinned, threading his fingers through hers. “Lead the way.”
As they approached the house, Y/N noticed a familiar figure standing in the window. Mia was leaning against the sill, a mug of coffee in her hands, her face a mix of amusement and curiosity as she stared out at them.
“Looks like she’s already got commentary locked and loaded,” Y/N muttered, glancing at Harry with a smirk.
“Should I be scared?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Always,” Y/N replied with a grin.
When they stepped onto the porch, Mia was already opening the door, one hand still clutching her coffee. She looked them over, her eyes flicking between Y/N’s flushed face and Harry’s sheepish expression.
“So,” Mia began, drawing out the word with a smirk. “I’m guessing you two worked it out, considering the lack of yelling and door slamming.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we talked. You’re not getting the drama you were hoping for.”
Mia shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Honestly? I’m kind of happy. As much as I love you, Y/N, I also really love walking around my house in my underwear. Having you here has seriously cramped my vibe.”
Harry stifled a laugh as Y/N gawked at her cousin. “Oh, my God, Mia!”
“What?” Mia said, grinning as she stepped aside to let them in. “I’m just saying, you two reconciling works out for everyone. Love wins, and I get my space back. It’s a win-win.”
Y/N shook her head, laughing as she stepped into the house with Harry following behind. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s why you love me,” Mia said with a wink, heading back to the kitchen. “Now, who’s hungry? And Harry, if you’re sticking around, you better pull your weight. Bacon doesn’t flip itself, pop star.”
Y/N glanced at Harry, who was clearly trying not to laugh as he hung up his coat. “Welcome to the family,” she said with a grin.
“Thanks,” Harry replied, leaning closer to whisper, “I think I’m more scared of Mia than I was of losing you.”
Y/N smacked his arm playfully, but the smile on her face lingered as they followed Mia to the kitchen. 
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villainbait · 3 days ago
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Lost and Found
Pairing: Sukuna x reader | Sukuna x genderless reader Rating: 16+ Tags: brief gore mention, canon sukuna behavior, angst, thriller, horror if you squint, drama, reincarnation, Summary: "I will find you." In your past life, you were Sukuna's jailer. In this one, you're simply an office worker hoping the King of Curses has simply forgotten you. Word Count: 750~ A/N: Sorry for the Sukuna jumpscare? I feel like most of you follow me for Sylus/LADS content, but I wrote this drabble as a warm up. ♥
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“Hey, did you hear?” 
You half tune out the notorious office gossip, though you’d be lying if you didn’t sometimes enjoy hearing the petty drama happening within jujutsu society. The two in suits next to you were hardly attempting to keep their voices down, anyway. 
“The King of Curses is back.” 
You choke on your food. 
“Yeah man, he manifested after a thousand years inside some pink haired high school kid. Kid isn’t even a sorcerer, everyone’s shocked he didn’t die.” You took a chance and peeked at the guy sharing the gossip just in time to see him look disgusted. “I heard he actually ate the finger. What kind of psychopath just eats a cursed object, sorcerer or not?”  
Unbidden, a memory surfaced. 
“I will always find you, in every life if I must.” His four hands wrap around the bars despite the barrier and you feel the cursed energy keeping him confined shudder, but the wards hold fast as he slams himself against his cage. “You cannot escape me.”
The threat rings in your head like it was uttered yesterday, instead of a thousand years ago. 
“Get this, rumor is kid can control him.” 
You can’t help the dry snort of laughter that makes them look at you strangely but you ignore them and take a bite of your food that suddenly tastes like sandpaper as you fight the bubbling panic. 
The thought of your life being in the hands of a teenager’s control didn’t comfort you. You pulled out your phone and thumbed through your contacts, your finger hovering over Gojo Satoru’s number. Even if the head of the Gojo clan did answer your unknown call (unlikely), he was so lackadaisical that you had little hope of him taking you seriously at all.
The rest of the day ends in a blur of boring meetings and other tedious jobs that are handed down to worker bees like you and your other coworkers. Once or twice you were reprimanded by your superior for your lack of attention, but the conversation kept replaying that you had overheard at lunch; distracting you.
You tried to console yourself with the thought that Sukuna might have forgotten you, knowing full well he would never forget his gaoler. As you made your way to the train station, your anxiety eased with the realization that he didn’t know what you looked like in this century. You were lucky to have been reincarnated with a face that did not look like the original one you wore when you had met Ryomen Sukuna a thousand years ago when you had imprisoned him.
With his threat still ringing faintly in your ears, you stepped up to the yellow line and waited; your mind adrift as another long forgotten memory swirled beneath the surface.
His breath feathers across your ear and you shudder. “Beg me,” he murmurs, clawed fingertips raking across your stomach with a deceptively delicate touch. He could slice right through you, and you both knew it. “Beg me to save you.” 
“Sukuna,” you whispered his name with reverence and heard his breath catch from behind you. “Sukuna please, they’re coming.” 
“I’ll hear your explanation after,” he hissed and released you abruptly, joy splashing across his face at the prospect of a fight. It’s over before it had a chance to begin, the group of Heian sorcerers reduced to mere ribbons of flesh piled neatly on the ground. In an odd twist of fate, they had been hunting you, not Sukuna and he wanted to know why. It was clear you had intrigued him. 
“Weak.” Condescension drips from his tone, clearly unimpressed by their prowess and power. He flicks the remnants of flesh and blood from his fingers as if such filth is not worthy to touch his skin. 
He stalks towards you with the lazy ease of a prowling beast and you desperately want to run again. Not that you’d make it a single step, so you don’t even try. He reaches for you–
The announcement snaps you out of your thoughts as you’re pushed towards the entrance of the train.
“Rapid train bound for Shinjuku will be arriving at platform 3 shortly. Please stand back behind the yellow line and wait.”
Little did you know as you boarded the train, a certain pink-haired young man had been standing four rows down, staring curiously at you the entire time as a certain curse sweetly whispered convincingly to him.
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mono-dot-jpeg · 19 hours ago
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stupid e-couple - s. nagi
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summary; convincing nagi to be your e-boy is surprisingly hard. how does one be so stubborn and so lazy at the same time?
genre/extra tags; one shot, based off of my other fic with kenma about league, fluff, comedy, nagi being nagi, league player ew (/j), i can say that bc im a league player, league terms and champ names are being thrown and no i will not elaborate on any of them, one (1) sexual joke literally at the start
word count; 567
[gender neutral reader]
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"sei, you're a shit boyfriend."
"what about last night?"
you send him a withering glare. "seriously?" he looks at you with those stupid beady eyes that he always has. that slightly feigned innocence, he knows what's he's doing. he's a grown ass teenager. a stubborn one. but you were stubborn, too. "how are you so damn stubborn?!" you whip a pillow at his face, to which he doesn't even bother dodging. like the good boyfriend he was, he takes the pillow to the face and flops over on the bed pathetically.
"is this really that serious?"
"is it really that serious?" you mock him sarcastically. "god forbid i try to be cute with you."
"but you're so bad at xayah... why can't you just play support instead? you're so much better." he grumbled.
"but they're like the duo to play in the bot lane. plus, they're hot, just like us."
"but you're still bad at xayah."
"not the point, nagi!"
"why don't we just play like.. what we're good at?" he asked the obvious question that you were expecting. "like, you're good at lux.."
"what about playing lux ezreal?"
"i hate ezreal."
"but you're so good at him." you started filing through the mental list in your mind of bot support lane duos that couples would play to be insufferable fucks to their team.
"why do you want to do this anyways? we just match skins anyways.." he muttered tiredly as he flipped around on the bed, stomach down. his face buried into the pillows, listening to your antics. "are matching skins not enough for you?" he turned his head to rest his cheek on the pillow as he gives you that annoyingly endearing pout you've come to know and love.
"it is but, what if i just want to be cute with my boyfriend?"
he looks at your own pout on your lips. he has half a mind to kiss you so hard that you just ignore this issue until next time, but he's far too lazy right now.
"what about jinx ekko?" he asked.
"ekko is a jungler, baby."
"okay.. and? anyone can be a support if you try hard enough."
"people are going to report you."
he shrugged, "not the first time that's happened." it was clear that you both were at a standstill. neither of you were budging. but it's not like nagi wasn't denying your idea. he was simply telling you a possible solution and the issues with your idea. god, you hate when he's actually sensible.
"let's just go and check what matching skins we can get."
"yay.." he said dryly, shifting on the bed to let you lay next to him. the moment you take your spot, his arms snake around your waist, and his stark white hair invades your vision and lips.
"sei! your hair!" you spit out the tufts that get into your mouth. "move your big head." you tell him.
he grumbles but complies and moves to bury his head into your chest. your arms wrap around him as you hold your phone. he cuddles you with a gentle sigh on contentment. a comforting silence blankets you both, the sounds of soft breathing and tapping fingers can only be heard.
"you know it shouldn't matter if we're matching skins or champions, i think we're still cute." he mutters before you can hear him start to doze off.
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babybearnation · 2 days ago
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now i've read all of the books beside your bed
⎇f1 drivers x gn!reader - you're a bookworm (reactions) ⎇contains: alex albon, arthur leclerc, charles leclerc, dino beganovic, george russell, zhou guanyu, kimi antonelli, lance stroll, lando norris, liam lawson, logan sargeant, max verstappen, mick schumacher, ollie bearman, oscar piastri, paul aron, pierre gasly, yuki tsunoda ⎇author's note: im a massive bookworm so this was fun!! some of these are inspired by this post from the lovely @thekoalapastriesbakery (kofi for long fics) ⎇content warnings: n/a ⎇word count: 3k
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alex albon:
alex thinks it's pretty cool that you're a reader. your collection may overwhelm him at first (how many fucking books??) but he comes to love it because you love it and isn't that all that matters? he'll try and read some of the books you suggest, but he's just not interested at all in reading. he prefers to go fast.
when you start tearing your luggage apart, he's pretty confused. it's not until you turn to him and tell him you forgot the sequel to the book you're reading that he starts to understand. he'll find the nearest bookstore and take you to it when he can, happily buying you the next book in the series.
alex is gonna be a bit grumpy if you ignore him because you're reading. what book could possibly be more interesting than him? he tries to protest and you just shush him. when he sees how close you are to the end of the book, however, he'll accept it and just not-so-patiently wait for you to finish up.
arthur leclerc:
arthur does not understand what is so exciting about reading. he's constantly chasing that thrill of going fast and fast and faster even still, so he doesn't understand what's so enchanting about reading books. he's got shitty imagination (twins) so he just can't do it. but he'll admire you and your dedication to reading.
uh oh. you forgot the sequel. arthur realised before you did after you'd sent him to get you book #2. he doesn't find it, he finds #3. he has to shyly confess what happened and you are just horrified because what are you supposed to do now? and then he remembers the fact that bookstores exist and he's running off to go and get book 2 to make you happy again.
as outlined above, he doesn't understand why people read. so now that you're reading and ignoring him because of it? nuh uh. no can do. he won't allow it. he'll snatch the book from your hands and keep moving it until you snap and demand he give it back because you have one chapter left. he can wait that, surely? no, no he can't.
charles leclerc:
charles is a bit more understanding of why people like to read but he still personally doesn't like it. he loves watching you read though, because he thinks you look so peaceful and calm and happy. if you start crying though, charles will panic and offer you a hot drink in the hopes of calming you down.
you might've forgotten to bring the sequel on holiday, but charles didn't. he'd spotted the book last second and tucked it into his carry on, already anticipating the moment he'd get to sweep in and play hero. so when you start going through your bags, trying to find book 2 because book 1 ended on a cliffhanger, he triumphantly pulls it out of his bag for you. yeah, he's a bit dramatic.
charles loves watching you read (unless you're crying) so if you ignore him whilst reading, he's not gonna be too bothered about it. he'll sit there and watch you read, maybe pulling out his phone to wait until you notice his presence and answer him. he's really not bothered.
dino beganovic:
the first time dino saw you reading, he honestly didn't know what to think. he's gotten used to it now but that first time.. you read?? why? when you explain to him all the reasons you love reading, he soon finds himself falling in love with it and he'll start carrying one or two books with him when he goes to races.
you're reading the end of this book to dino in between free practice and qualifying and you get to the end and you're ready to start book 2... and it's not there. it's not in your bag. it's not in his bag. it's gone. dino, thinking fast, decides to buy the ebook and read it to you. yeah, that's a new thing you two do now.
dino will not care if you ignore him when you're reading. if it's urgent or he needs to leave, then yeah, he'll be upset, but if it's just a normal, everyday question? he's not bothered. in fact, he's abandoning his question to instead cuddle up to you and (attempt) to read over your shoulder.
george russell:
george will read the occasional thing here and there, but it's nothing compared to how much you read. he loves getting book recs from you even if it takes him for-fucking-ever to read them because he's so busy. he just wants to (try and) stay up to date with your reading!
george definitely packs extra books for you when you go on holiday just in case. so when he spots the abandoned sequel, he'll pack it for you. you won't even realise you almost left it because he'll slip it into your bag before you can notice it's gone.
he might get a bit annoyed if you ignore him because you're reading but when you finish up the book and wordlessly hand it to him, he'll quickly understand why. the book was so entrancing and now he has to read. and then he reads it and oh, he's ignoring you now. whoops?
zhou guanyu:
he loves the peace that reading can bring and he thinks you'll be the exact same and then he sees you launching a book across the room and quickly realises, no, not all reading can be peaceful. you'll have to explain the plot to him so he can understand why you threw the book otherwise he's gonna be so confused.
it's a nightmare. book 2 ends on a cliffhanger and there's no fucking book 3 in your suitcase. you could've sworn you packed it. you tear through all your luggage and end up having to call guanyu (who's out picking up food for you two) because you can't find it. turns out you did pack it... in his suitcase. oops?
guanyu gets it. he really does. sometimes books or other forms of media are just so enrapturing and intense that you can't help but zone out everything else and only focus on what you're consuming. if its urgent, he might gently push your book down, but he's not too bothered about it otherwise.
kimi antonelli:
he may be incredibly smart and have an insane memory, but this man hates reading. when he discovers you love reading, he's actually not that surprised. he'll use his excellent memory to help prevent you from forgetting any details if you're reading a sequel ages after you read the first book.
when kimi comes back from showering to find both of your suitcases completely torn apart, he's a bit confused. what did you forget to pack? when you share that you forgot the sequel to your book, he decides that you and him will find the nearest bookstore to go and buy a second copy because he's refusing to let you be grumpy over the cliffhanger lol.
yeah, no, kimi ain't letting you ignore him for no book. he has no qualms about tearing a book out of your hand until you answer his question. if he just wants your attention, well, good luck. he's stubborn and won't let you have your book back until he's content.
lance stroll:
he may not be into reading but he really likes listening to you recap the stories and books you read because he finds them so interesting. eventually, he'll end up shyly asking you to read to him because you are the best storyteller ever so he wants to consume all books through you.
you're on holiday, somewhere nice and warm, and the book ends and... there's no book 2. you'd left it at home. lance, noticing your lowkey grumpy nature about this, decides to take you to a bookstore so you can buy another copy of the sequel. you can also buy some other books in the process because he doesn't want you to run out of reading material.
lance will be a bit grumpy if you ignore him whilst you're reading only because you could be reading to him and you're not. he'll push his face into your view as he pouts and you'll very quickly learn that he wants you to read to him. he ends up hearing random handfuls of chapters from different books every now and then because he falls asleep sometimes.
lando norris:
if you think this man reads, i have news for you. he doesn't. he really doesn't understand how you like reading, to be honest. if he catches you reading f1 romances? he's demanding to know how accurate they are. the first time he found a book in your bed (it jabbed his rabs), he almost burned it (that's a half joke).
when you pout at lando and tell him you forgot the sequel to the book you've been reading all holiday, he'll aww at you and hug you, but he's celebrating the second your back is turned because now he can have all your attention. lando keeps you so busy and distracted, you forget about the book until you get home and see it on your shelf.
oh come on, you and me both know this man isn't letting you ignore him in favour of reading. the amount of time he's snatched books from your hands and flung them across the room is insane (he always replaces any books he damages though). the only way to placate him is to offer to read to him because he loves your voice so much.
liam lawson:
he might read the occasional comic book series or something like that, but full novels aren't really his forte. he very quickly learns how passionate you are about books and reading, however, and he starts to come to love and appreciate the conversations you two will have about whatever book you're currently reading.
liam is gonna be clueless on what to do when you're on holiday and you tell him you forgot to pack the sequel to the book you were reading. you're not sure you'll be able to find the book in any local shops so you reluctantly admit defeat. but don't worry, liam will cheer you up with silly theories about what happens in book 2.
honestly, liam won't care if you ignore him whilst you're reading. he understands what reading means to you and he knows how easy it is for books to capture your full attention so he'll just carry on as he was before. if he really needs you, however, he'll offer a snack as a peace offering when he interrupts you.
logan sargeant:
he's not really interested in reading but he loves listening to you talk about books. he retains absolutely no information about which series is which and who is who, but he knows your faves and he's always willing to listen to you vent about a shitty read, so that's always fun.
logan pulls the puppiest of puppy eyes when you tell him you forgot to pack the second book in the series you're reading. he isn't sure what to do and he's about to apologise and offer something else for you to do, but then he remembers the wonder of ebooks and offers to buy that for you. up to you what you say, tbh!
logan isn't too bothered about being ignored whilst you're reading. if he has a question, he'll ask you it, but if he just wants attention, he'll choose to cuddle up to you instead of taking you away from your book. he's always content to just be in your company!
max verstappen:
this man has publicly admitted he's only read like... 4 books in his life. he's honestly positive that you won't change that. and you don't, but he does learn more and more about books and sometimes references books you've told him about without realising. it's cute.
max is stressed because you're stressed because you forgot the final book in the trilogy you were reading. he's not sure how because the whole thing came in a box so why didn't you just bring the box but soon enough he's seeking out the nearest book store to get you a replacement.
yeah, no, you're not allowed to ignore him in favour of reading. if he's feeling really needy, that book is taking flying lessons. he once accidentally threw one out the window and, in return, you told some of the other drivers about it. he's never lived it down.
mick schumacher:
he probably enjoys a good book here and there so when he discovers you're a bookworm, he's happily asking you for recommendations. he may not read as much as you, but he does truly admire that you have something so enchanting in common.
darling angel baby mick schumacher would never let you forget a single book behind, even if you're just going to his parents' house for the weekend. not a single chance in hell you've forgotten. if you've somehow miraculously forgotten it, he's buying you a second copy before you can even tell him not to.
mick doesn't mind you ignoring him whilst you're reading. he gets it. he might sometimes ask you to read to him, but most of the time he'll just snatch up his own book and come join you. spending time with you is one of his favourite things, no matter how you two pass the time.
ollie bearman:
this boy don't read. he's too chaotic for that. he might listen to you talk about books occasionally, but honestly, he has no interest. you owning a large amount of books will leave him totally stunned and he'll constantly pull random books off your shelf to ask if you've read them.
ollie is terrified. you'd just finished crying over the ending of the 2nd book and then you burst into tears all over again because you didn't have the third book. he isn't sure what to do and eventually decides on offering you a different book he's "interested in" in the hopes it'll take your mind off of the missing third book.
contrary to the above, ollie isn't all that bothered about you ignoring him in favour of reading. he sees you looking cozy with a book in your hands and his first (and only) thought is: that's the perfect napping spot. yeah, nine times out of ten, your reading session is very briefly interrupted by a sleepy bear sliding into your lap. enjoy!
oscar piastri:
i think oscar would try and read but he'd never get very far and he'd end up leaving a trail of unfinished books behind him. when he finds out you're a reader, however, he tries to use that as motivation. it doesn't work but he's very supportive of your hobby nonetheless!
oscar just sighs and googles the nearest bookstore when you come to him complaining about forgetting to pack the sequel to the latest book you read. he knew you'd forgotten something so he'd already been prepared to have to rebuy something. to him, this is very tame.
isn't bothered at all that you're choosing reading over him. he'll either take this as an opportunity to nap (cuddled up to you, of course) or he'll ask you to read to him. you might have to play catch up if you're in the middle of a book or ask him to wait for you to start the next one, but he's really not that bothered.
paul aron:
another member of the might occasionally read gang. paul prefers watching stuff to reading, but a good book can easily capture his attention. he loves listening to you talk about books and if you ever want to lend him a book, he will read it cover to cover, even if he hates it, because you gave it to him.
paul isn't sure what to do when you tell him you forgot to bring the sequel of a book with you on holiday. you don't want to buy another copy because what's the point, but you're also dying to know what happens next. paul eventually decides to get the ebook for you and hopes you can make some progress with that version of the book.
this is where paul gets into his baby girl side. you're not allowed to ignore him, that's just rude. he won't tear the book away like some of the other drivers would, but he's definitely gonna call your name over and over until you answer him. it's annoying, sure, but it works 100% of the time.
pierre gasly:
he's not really a reader but the first time he discovered you were, he asked you to read to him and now he's obsessed with books... only if you narrate them. it's a bit silly and he'll never tell anyone lest he be teased horrifically for it, but he's a biiiiit sappy.
another one who knows instantly to find the nearest bookstore and get you a replacement copy when you tell him you forgot to pack the sequel to the book you're reading. he'll even offer to let you get a few more books as well to avoid this issue happening again. it's charming, really.
you're his personal audiobook narrator, remember? you physically cannot ignore him whilst you're reading. he will push his way into your personal bubble and impatiently wait for you to read the book to him. again, it's a bit silly, but you go along with it because you still get to read at the end of the day.
yuki tsunoda:
yuki's probably read a few manga here and there whilst growing up, but he's not really a novel reader. if you read manga, he might ask to borrow your favourites, but he'll let you keep the long, wordy books to yourself. feel free to read him to sleep though!
when you tell yuki you've forgotten the sequel to the book you just finished reading, he's a bit awkward. does he offer to buy you another copy? or does he try and push you towards reading something else? by the time he's made a decision, you're already halfway through your next book.
you're not allowed to ignore yuki ever, let alone when you're reading. he'll bully his way onto your lap and pout at you until you put the book down and give him a sufficient enough amount of kisses. its over 100 kisses btw so i hope you weren't in the middle of a chapter!
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mikashisus · 2 days ago
Note
ray idk anything about hsr or genshin so i can’t req for those unfortunately 💔 BUT you summoned me by including bllk in your list HEHEHE can i request smth for nagi?? i don’t really have any specific ideas though…maybe childhood friends 🤔 or anything you want really!!
sorry this is so unspecific i’ve never requested before 😔 but ilyyyy and congrats on 200 that’s amazing!!
— definitely not mira 👹
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STITCH ME UP
synopsis: you didn’t consider nagi seishiro a friend at first. but now, you couldn’t imagine your days without him latched to your side.
taglist. @pneumosia @pixelcafe-network @gl4di0lus ( join the taglist here! )
word count. 2.1k ( contents : semi angst, injuries, mc has a short temper )
notes. this has been sitting in my inbox since JULY IM SO SORRY MIRA 😭 but it's finally here!! there'll def be a part 2 bc this is so dogshit and i need to redeem myself with a second part. mira i look up to ur writing sm so u only deserve peak, and i promise u'll get it in part 2 queen 🙏 anyw um the title is in reference to the song “stitch me up” by set it off :))
header art by: @/Liiiiiiimsao ( twt )
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The first time you met Nagi Seishiro, you were about to go into your first year of middle school, curled up on the side of the street struggling to wrap a bandage around your left arm. 
It was sunset then, and the world was quiet aside from the loud buzzing of cicadas and the occasional car passing by. 
Nagi had just left a tiny convenience store located on the edge of the street, his phone in his hands as he tapped away at the game he was currently fixated on. Knowing the way back home by heart, he began to walk in that direction, unaware of his surroundings. 
It was only when he tripped over something rather sturdy did he finally forcefully take his eyes off the device in his hand. His grip on his phone tightened. He was determined not to drop it and risk the screen cracking again. 
Not paying any mind to what he just tripped over, he sighed in relief that he did not drop his phone, and patted down his pants. 
“HEY!” 
A loud yell drew him from his stupor. He slowly turned, coming face to face with a scowl. He blinked at you for a few seconds, before he faced you properly and raised a brow. 
“Yes?” 
“Look where you’re going, asshole! You tripped over me!” You snapped, patience wearing thin.
His shoulders slumped. Now that you stood in front of him, you realized just how tall he actually was. He kind of looked like a third year. It made you all the more aggravated. You hated anyone that could look down on you like he was. 
“Oh. Sorry, I guess.” He shrugged, acting as if what just happened was not a big deal. “You have a bad mouth.” 
That was the last straw. Your fists clenched tightly, your nails digging into your skin as your eye twitched. You ignored the pain in your palms and challenged his stoic stare. 
“So what?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Is that a problem?” 
He shrugged again and looked down at his phone. “I don’t really care.” 
He got ready to leave, when he cast one last glance at you, and his eyes landed on the now bloody bandage that came undone from your arm. The longer he stared, the more he realized he'd seen you before. 
He racked his brain for answers, sifting through each memory to try and remember where he’d seen you. Meanwhile, you were silent, fidgety. You did not enjoy people staring at you. It made you anxious, like they were trying to challenge you in some way. 
This weird boy who you did not understand and you deemed an asshole for not watching where he walked made you feel quite nervous. You knew him from school. He was the boy who was exceptionally good at volleyball. 
You could remember how fascinated you were watching him play during gym class. He had all the talent you could only hope for, and the envy had bubbled up inside you, growing exponentially. Despite your envy, you quickly forgot about him after you no longer had to be in the same proximity as him, and you went about your life without thinking of him again. 
Until now. 
Nagi finally remembered where he had seen you. It was as if a lightbulb had suddenly appeared above his head, and his eyes widened slightly in surprise. You were that one kid that liked to pick a fight with anyone taller than you. 
He first caught a glimpse of you in the nurse’s office when he had tripped outside during gym class and cut open his knee. As he was waiting for the nurse to return with gauze, he heard a commotion outside the office and saw your rather short form tackle a boy twice your size. 
With the strength of a lion tucked inside that small body of yours, you refused to give up the fight until the nurse came back and rushed out into the hall to separate the two of you. 
Nagi remembered watching your face fall in defeat when the nurse said to go to the principal’s office and that your parents would need to be called. 
“You’re that kid.” The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. “You like to pick fights with people.” 
As soon as the words left his mouth, he watched you deflate like a balloon right in front of him. Your face fell, and your arms dropped to your sides. He wondered what it was that made you so upset. Was it the reputation you had around the school? 
Just then, he saw the loose bandage on your arm completely come undone. It fell to the ground and pooled around your feet. Time stopped, and he stared in absolute horror at the mess of stitches on your arm. You did nothing to pick up the bandages. In fact, you barely moved. 
He would’ve thought you to be a statue if not for the slight twitching of your fingers. You tapped idly against your thigh, your eyes blank as you stared at the ground. He watched closely as your fingers danced in a certain rhythmic movement, and he soon realized you were tapping in morse code. 
S.O.S. 
He barely had time to register that it was morse code. His focus went back to the ghastly stitches on your arm. They looked as if they were done by someone with no experience whatsoever, but there was clearly an attempt. 
The wound itself did not look any better, and he wondered if you had even cleaned it all. He noticed a few other scars littered on your arm. They were smaller and less noticeable, but his intense stare had caught sight of them easily. 
“How’d you hurt yourself?” He questioned softly, unaware he had asked that out loud instead of inside his head. 
You did not answer. Not right away at least. With a heavy sigh, you collapsed back against the fence you were previously leaning on before he had tripped over you. 
“I didn’t do anything,” you muttered with a tinge of venom in your voice. “It was someone else… But no one ever believes me, so as far as anyone is concerned, I did this to myself.” 
He didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead, he picked up the bandages you dropped, careful not to touch the parts covered in blood, and told you to wait here. 
Where would I even go? You thought. It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon. 
Within a few minutes, he was rushing out of the convenience store and across the street again, a pack of gauze and a water bottle in his hands. His phone was now tucked into his pants pocket. He kneeled down next to you and gently reached for your arm. 
“Did you try to stitch this up yourself?” 
He did not need an answer. He already knew it, though he felt the need to ask anyway. You nodded, so slight he almost missed it. He pulled a pair of scissors from the second plastic bag wrapped around his arm and carefully cut the string. 
With gentle hands, he removed the stitches to the best of his ability and dropped them onto the bandages from earlier. You tried your best not to move the whole time, but he could tell from your scrunched expression that you were in more than a bit of pain. 
He unscrewed the cap of the water bottle. “This might hurt.” He poured water over your wound, causing you to bite back a scream. 
“I don’t know how to do stitches, so…” He trailed off. “So I just got this.” He held up the gauze he bought and carefully wrapped up your arm. 
As soon as he was finished, he threw the gross bandages into the now empty plastic bag and glanced at you. Your brows were still furrowed and your lip was still tugged between your teeth. 
He stood up, taking a look at the sky. The sun was almost fully over the horizon by now, and he was likely late for dinner. He needed to leave now and get back home. As he turned to do just that, he almost missed the slight crack of your voice. 
“Thank you.” 
Were it not for the temporary silence of the cicadas, he would have missed your words entirely, and it would not have paved the way for your future with Nagi Seishiro. 
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The next time you saw Nagi was in your second year of middle school. 
A white volleyball came flying out of the gym one day after school, narrowly missing his nose. It fell to the ground with a plop a foot away from him. Rushed footsteps sounded from behind him as he picked it up, and he could hear the yells of the volleyball team from the open doors of the gym. 
A familiar voice entered his ears. “I got it!” 
Moments later, you were rushing out of the gym doors, sweat lining your temple and your collarbone. An exhausted expression rested on your face, and fresh bandages were wrapped around the same arm he tended to a year prior. 
You stopped as you looked up at him, your eyes flashing with recognition as you took in the tall boy standing before you with your volleyball in his hands. You swallowed thickly, fiddling with the hem of your black t-shirt. 
He handed you the volleyball. “Here you go.” 
“…Thanks.” You hesitantly took it from his hands and hugged it to your stomach. You stared at him warily for a moment before turning around to head back into the gym. 
“You play volleyball?” He asked suddenly, shocking you as you were not expecting him to make small talk. 
You turned to face him again and nodded. “Yeah… My dad is a fan, so as soon as I was old enough to play, he signed me up for lessons,” You said. 
There was a pause, and he could tell by the awkward look in your eyes that you were debating on if you should share more or not. In the end, you caved. 
“I’m not that good. So I mainly just play because it’s fun.” You shrugged. "...I should get back to practice.” 
You left before he could get another word out. Later that day, when you were walking home from practice, you saw Nagi again— this time walking out of his house. His eyes met yours, and you both stared at one another in surprise. You lived in the same neighborhood. 
You never went as far as to consider that you and Nagi were friends. Not at first, at least. You never had friends— not after your reputation of being a short-tempered, fight-starter circulated around the school. Even your volleyball team was not a fan of you, despite the fact that you were surprisingly good when it came to teamwork. 
Everyone was inclined to stay away from you. Either out of fear or hatred, you weren’t sure. But as time passed, you came to accept being the loner who always ended up in the principal’s office. 
That was until Nagi offered you a can of soda after your failed attempt of getting the faulty vending machine to work. It was late in the afternoon on a Friday in Spring of your first year of high school. Up until that point, the two of you only interacted at odd times when you just so happened to come across each other in the halls or walking out of your houses. 
No words were ever shared between you, only slight nods of the head and small waves in greeting. Now, though, Nagi was taking a seat next to you on the staircase, placing a can of soda next to your foot. He pulled out his phone, loaded up a game, and handed it to you. 
“Wanna play?” 
You blinked at him in surprise, before nodding. You got past four levels in the game before dying, letting out a groan of frustration. He leaned over your shoulder, watching the screen intently. Occasionally, he’d chime in with a word of advice, or ask if you wanted him to do that level for you. You two sat there on that staircase for what felt like hours, before a staff member came and told you to leave. 
After that day, you would meet on the stairs everyday after your volleyball practices, playing that very same game together and attempting to outdo each other’s high scores. This routine continued, until one day you invited him to the park with you to play there. 
You didn’t consider Nagi Seishiro a friend at first. But now, you couldn’t imagine your days without him latched to your side.
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© 2024 mikashisus.
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dedexo · 2 days ago
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The Proposal
Timeskip Kenma x Fem Reader
Not proofread
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“What's up bros It's Kozuken. Today, I have with me (he pulls the chair you’re sitting on in frame) my beautiful girlfriend, and we’ll be playing Minecraft together!”
The chat exploded with excitement and compliments. Kenma’s viewers loved it when you joined the stream even though it wasn't often. You only joined once in a while when Kenma asked you or on special occasions. You thought today's stream was just a regular stream, and Kenma only asked you to join because why not? However, Kenma had other plans in mind.
You guys have been dating for almost 5 years now and everything was going great, sure you had arguments here and there but nothing break up worthy. Overall, Kenma was pretty content with your relationship. The thought of marriage didn't even cross his mind until Kuroo brought it up randomly one day.
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“Sooo when’s the wedding?” Kuroo asked while sipping his tea.
“What wedding?” Kenma asked with genuine confusion.
“Are you being serious right now?” Kuroo put down his tea and stared Kenma dead in the eyes.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
“Are you not planning on marrying y/n?”
“Oh….” Kenma sits there and ponders for a couple of seconds. “Well to be honest I didn't really think about marriage. It would be nice though, calling her my wife and all.” A slight blush appeared on his cheeks.
“Well you better get on with it, no girl would stay with you this long if she didn't think you were gonna eventually propose to her. And if you wait too long she might just leave you.”
**********************************************
And that’s how he ended up here nervously sitting with a ring in his pocket and you sitting next to him completely oblivious to his plan.
He planned to propose to you through Minecraft since it was the first game you guys ever played together, but throughout the whole stream, he kept questioning himself. What if you said no? Should he really do this on stream where millions of people can see? Should he have proposed a different way? What if you wanted some big fancy flowers on the beach kinda proposal? How would he recover if you rejected him in front of his fans? These thoughts plagued his mind until he realized that it was almost time for the stream to end. It was now or never.
“Before we end the stream there's something I’d like to show you y/n, follow me.” Kenma said sounding kinda uneasy.
“Okay!” You say with a bit of excitement. You noticed that he was acting kinda weird but you decided to ignore it thinking it was nothing and continued to follow him in the game.
He carried you to this super pretty area that was covered in flowers. You could tell that there was a sign in the middle of it but you were too far away to see what it said. Once you were close enough you finally read what it said. 
“WILL YOU MARRY ME Y/N💍?”
It took you a couple of seconds to process what was happening. Is this for real??
You look over at Kenma and he is on one knee with a ring in his hand.
You sat there, hands covering your mouth, absolutely dumbfounded.
“Y/n, you are the best girl I could ever ask for, I love you with all my heart and I cant imagine my life without you in it. Will you marry me?
“OH MY GOD YESSSSS!!” You jump on him causing you both to tumble over.
You guys get up off the floor and Kenma slides the ring on your finger
The stream chat was exploding with congratulations and people laughing at the fall. 
Kenma thanked his viewers for the support and ended the stream.
You two spent the rest of the evening celebrating and looking at wedding inspo on Pinterest.
_________________________________________
If you couldn't already tell I lost motivation at the end 🙃  
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cocobeanncteez · 2 days ago
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The CEO Collision - Part Four
Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)
Warnings / content for Part Four: alcohol consumption, profanities, angst, seonghwa talks about a toxic person in his past, mention of a restraining order and going through a rough breakup, lotssss of fluff in this part after the initial angst parts. Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.
Word Count: 9.3k
Masterlist for The CEO Collision
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A month later, your relationship with Seonghwa had evolved into something far more intense than you’d ever expected. Your days were filled with teasing glances, stolen kisses, and luxurious dates that always ended in nights that left you breathless, and overall, a lot of sex. It was magnetic, fiery, and consuming in the best way.
Yet, in the quiet moments, when the rush of adrenaline faded, a nagging thought lingered at the back of your mind. You still hadn’t asked him about the past.
You’d told yourself it didn’t matter. That the way he touched you, cared for you, and looked at you as though you were his entire world was enough. And maybe it was—until the reality of your arrangement crept in. You couldn’t ignore the fact that the delay in finalizing your engagement had real consequences for his company. You knew Seonghwa wouldn’t push you, but every passing day added to the strain.
But tonight, that would change.
If you were going to marry this man, you needed to understand everything—especially if it involved you.
The soft glow of candlelight illuminated your living room as you sat curled on the couch, waiting for him to arrive. You’d invited him over for dinner, deciding that the intimacy of your home would make the conversation easier, and because your family was away on a business trip that didn’t require your presence.
When the bell rang, your heart raced. You opened the door to find Seonghwa standing there, as composed and handsome as ever, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand.
“For you,” he said with a small smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.
“Thank you,” you replied, stepping aside to let him in. His presence filled the space effortlessly, the air shifting the way it always did when he was near.
Dinner was a quiet affair, filled with comfortable silences and the occasional light-hearted remark. But as the plates were cleared and the mood turned softer, you knew it was time.
“Seonghwa,” you started, your voice steady, though your hands fidgeted with the edge of the napkin in your lap. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
He set his wine glass down, his expression softening but still attentive. “What’s on your mind, my love?”
You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I… never really asked you about our past… the reason I resented you for so long.”
Seonghwa reached for your hands, his thumbs brushing gentle circles on your skin. “I’ve had a feeling you wanted to talk about this. I didn’t push because I wanted you to bring it up when you felt ready.”
“I just…” You hesitated, searching his face for a reaction. “You know, we slept together so many times before, and the next day, you acted like it didn’t matter. I understand we were drunk out of our minds, but… I don’t know. Maybe I don’t understand why things never grew between us back then?”
He sighed, his gaze dipping to where your hands intertwined. “I owe you the truth about that.” He paused, his tone carrying a weight that made your chest tighten. “I’ve always had feelings for you since we were 23, Y/N. Always. But… there were things happening back then that made it impossible for me to act on them.”
You frowned, tilting your head. “What things?”
“Do you know Shin Nayeon?” he asked cautiously.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you nodded. “Shin Group’s daughter?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “When I was younger, my parents had an informal agreement with hers. It was one of those old-fashioned things—two families joking about marrying off their children to secure business ties. My parents never took it seriously, but hers did.”
You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “So… what happened?”
“When I turned 21, the Shins started pushing for an engagement,” he explained. “At the time, I was dating someone… someone I thought I’d marry. But Nayeon found out and intervened. She told my girlfriend at that time some horrible things, things that weren’t true, and it ended us.”
Your heart clenched at the sadness in his voice. “That’s awful.”
“She was relentless,” Seonghwa continued, his jaw tightening, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a rare vulnerability. “She spread rumors, made demands, and even tried to manipulate my parents. But they refused to entertain her. I thought that would be enough to stop her, but she didn’t back off. I filed a restraining order, but it was useless. Her family had too much influence—they got it dismissed before it even mattered.”
You absorbed his words, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. “So, when we…”
“I was protecting you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, yet the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. “I knew what I felt for you was real, but I couldn’t trust myself to keep you safe. Everything that came with being involved with me felt like too much of a risk. Nayeon would’ve found a way to hurt you, to drag you into her chaos. And…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor before returning to yours. “You’re Joong’s sister. He knew about Nayeon and what she was capable of. If I got involved with you and anything happened, he would’ve lost his mind.”
You processed his words, your emotions swirling. “Joong knew?”
“He knew about Nayeon,” Seonghwa admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not about my feelings for you, though. But even without that, he was protective of you. If I’d let things progress between us, especially with you being from a wealthy family, Nayeon would’ve weaponized the media against you to have her way. I couldn’t let that happen.”
You looked at him, the conflict evident in his expression. “So, instead, you pushed me away... multiple times.”
“I thought it was the right thing to do,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I thought I was sparing you from the mess, but I realize now that I just hurt you instead. I’m sorry, Y/N. I was selfish and scared.”
You stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in. It explained so much—his distance, the tension, and the unspoken emotions between you all these years.
“I wish you’d told me sooner,” you said finally, your tone softer than you expected.
“I wish I had too,” he replied earnestly. “But now, I’m telling you everything because I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I want us to move forward with no secrets between us.”
You nodded slowly, feeling the honesty in his words. “Thank you for telling me.”
“And thank you for listening,” he said, his voice warm. The tension in the room eased slightly, but the connection between you only deepened. For the first time, it felt like the past wasn’t a barrier but a bridge to understanding each other better.
“So what happened to Nayeon after?” you asked, breaking the momentary silence. “I know she’s married now.”
“After nearly five years of harassing me, the Moon family approached her parents with a proposal for their second youngest son,” Seonghwa said, leaning back slightly, his expression a mix of relief and lingering exasperation. “He’s quite handsome and from a ridiculously wealthy family. One day, she came up to me and said she found someone more handsome and richer, and then just like that, she left me alone. I didn’t trust it at first, but after her wedding went through, I could finally breathe.”
You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “Five years? That’s… insane.”
“It was,” he admitted, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “By the time she finally moved on, I had gotten used to looking over my shoulder. It took a while to realize she was really gone.”
You let his words sink in, the weight of what he’d endured slowly settling in your mind. “And during all that… you and I…”
“It was when we were pursuing our master’s degrees,” Seonghwa interjected, his gaze softening as he recalled the memory. “Do you remember?”
You nodded, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.
“I remember waking up the next morning, hoping to see you still there,” he continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But you were gone. San and Jongho saw you leaving my place. They weren’t subtle about their surprise.”
You felt a twinge of embarrassment but pushed through it. “Yeah, well… I wasn’t exactly thinking straight back then.”
“It was a complicated time,” Seonghwa said gently, his eyes holding yours. “What threw me off was when I found out later that you got back together with your ex. I asked Joong about you, and he told me the news like it was nothing. I… wasn’t sure how to feel.”
You bit your lip, the weight of his words making your heart ache. “I didn’t know, Seonghwa. I had no idea how much it mattered to you back then.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I never said anything. I didn’t fight for what I wanted. I let the circumstances and my fears control me.”
You reached out, placing a hand on his. “Well, you’re here now, and so am I. Maybe it wasn’t the right time then, but it feels like it is now.”
His lips curved into a soft smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “I’ll make sure I don’t waste it this time.”
The quiet promise in his voice sent a warmth through you, solidifying the unspoken understanding that despite the twists and turns of your past, you were both ready to move forward together.
-x-x-x-
Seonghwa adjusted his tie as he sat in the elegant sitting room of your family’s mansion. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wood and tasteful decor. Your mother poured tea into delicate china cups, while your father leaned back in his chair, observing Seonghwa with an approving smile.
“I must say, Seonghwa,” your father began, his voice warm, “it’s always a pleasure having you here. Though, I admit I’m curious about the purpose of this visit. Joong told us you had something important to discuss.”
Seonghwa straightened his posture, his expression a mix of confidence and sincerity. “Yes, sir. I do.”
Hongjoong, who had been lounging casually on the couch, suddenly perked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Seonghwa. “This sounds serious.”
“It is,” Seonghwa admitted, taking a steadying breath. “I wanted to speak with you all because it concerns Y/N and our future together.”
Your mother’s hands paused mid-air as she reached for her tea. She exchanged a glance with your father, her curiosity piqued. “Go on,” she encouraged, her tone kind but intrigued.
Seonghwa clasped his hands together, leaning slightly forward. “I would like to ask for your permission to propose to Y/N.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. Your parents shared a look of surprise, and even Hongjoong looked momentarily caught off guard even though Seonghwa told him before that he’d rather propose; he didn’t think Seonghwa would actually go through with it.
“A proposal?” your father echoed, his eyebrows raising slightly. “That’s… unexpected. Families like ours typically sit down and come to a mutual agreement about engagements.”
“I understand,” Seonghwa replied, his voice steady and respectful. “But I don’t want this to be just a formality or a business decision. Y/N means far more to me than that. I want to ask her properly, to show her that this is about love and partnership, not just obligation or tradition.”
Your mother’s expression softened, a pleased smile curving her lips. “That’s quite thoughtful of you, Seonghwa. I must say, it’s refreshing to hear this perspective.”
Hongjoong leaned back, crossing his arms. “You do realize Y/N isn’t exactly the easiest person to win over, right? You’re sure about this?”
“More than anything,” Seonghwa replied without hesitation.
Your father nodded slowly, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Well, I have to say, Seonghwa, you’ve impressed us since the very beginning. We’ve seen how much you respect and care for Y/N, and that’s what matters most to us.”
“Absolutely,” your mother added warmly. “You have our blessing.”
Hongjoong smirked, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this determined to deal with my sister. But you’ve got my support too—just don’t mess it up.”
Seonghwa chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Thank you. All of you. This means a lot to me.”
As he sipped his tea, Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of relief and anticipation. Now all that remained was picking the perfect ring for you and bringing his proposal plans to reality—a moment he was determined to make unforgettable.
-
“Hyung… oh my god, we’ve been to like, eight stores already,” Wooyoung groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically as he leaned against the glass counter of yet another upscale jewelry store. “How hard is it for you to pick a ring? Just pick one. They’re all shiny and expensive. She’ll love any of them.”
Seonghwa, unfazed, inspected yet another diamond solitaire ring under the bright store lights, tilting it slightly to see how the facets caught the light. “It’s not just about shiny and expensive, Wooyoung,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “It has to be perfect. She deserves that.”
Wooyoung threw his hands up in exasperation. “Okay, but does it have to be this hard? We’ve been at this for hours. My feet hurt, my patience is gone, and I think the saleslady over there is about two seconds away from calling security because she thinks we’re casing the place.”
Mingi, who was lounging on one of the plush chairs in the corner, laughed. “To be fair, hyung, you have been scrutinizing every single ring in the city like your life depends on it. At this point, just have one custom-made.”
Seonghwa sighed, placing the ring back onto its velvet display. “I thought about that, but custom orders take weeks, and I don’t want to wait that long. I need the proposal to happen soon.”
“Why the rush?” Wooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow.
Seonghwa hesitated for a moment before replying, “I’ve already waited too long to tell her how I feel. And with everything that’s happened recently… I want her to know I’m serious. I want her to know she’s my future.”
Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically. “Aww, hyung, that’s so romantic. But also, can you speed this up? I need food. I’m dying here.”
Mingi rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying, Wooyoung. You’re just dramatic.”
As the two bickered, Seonghwa’s eyes fell on a particular ring—a classic design with a round brilliant-cut diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds, set on a delicate platinum band. It wasn’t overly flashy, but it exuded timeless elegance.
The sales associate noticed his interest and stepped forward with a warm smile. “Excellent choice, sir. This one is one of our most popular designs for proposals. It’s simple, yet elegant—a symbol of everlasting love.”
Seonghwa picked it up and examined it closely. It was perfect. It reminded him of you: elegant, understated, yet undeniably captivating.
“This is the one,” he said decisively, slipping the ring back into its box.
“Finally!” Wooyoung groaned, throwing his arms up in mock relief. “Can we eat now?”
Seonghwa chuckled, ignoring his friend’s dramatics. “Get the car while I pay,” he told Wooyoung whom immediately agreed, dragging Mingi along with him.
While Seonghwa paid for the ring, an idea popped up in his head, and he looked at the sales associate with a smirk on his face. “Do you do customized designs? Not for jewelry… but showpieces?”
-
Nari leaned back in her office chair, glancing cautiously at the glass walls of her workspace to ensure no one could overhear her conversation. Holding her phone close, she spoke in a hushed but amused tone.
“Look, Mr. Park, I’m telling you, don’t plan anything for this week,” she said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “Trust me on this—Y/N will not want to be on a yacht or anywhere fancy while she’s on her period.”
There was a short pause before Seonghwa’s voice came through, slightly hesitant. “Are you sure? She didn’t mention anything about it to me.”
Nari rolled her eyes, though her tone remained playful. “Of course she didn’t. She’s not going to tell you something like that directly, especially not when you’re still in the whole ‘charming romantic’ phase of your relationship. That’s why you’ve got me.”
Seonghwa sighed, clearly relieved. “Alright. Next week it is, then. She loves the sea, and I want her to enjoy every moment of it.”
“Exactly,” Nari agreed, tapping her pen against her desk. “Schedule the yacht for next week, and maybe throw in some spa time or a nice dinner this weekend instead. Keep things low-key for now.”
“I appreciate this,” Seonghwa said earnestly. “Thank you, Nari. I owe you one.”
She smirked, leaning forward. “Oh, you owe me more than one. I’m practically your accomplice at this point. If Y/N ever finds out I’m helping you plan all this behind her back, I’m denying everything.”
Seonghwa chuckled softly. “Noted. I’ll make sure to cover for you if it ever comes up.”
“Good,” Nari replied, checking the time. “Now go do your billionaire CEO thing or whatever. I’ve got real work to do.”
Seonghwa’s laughter was warm and genuine. “You’re a lifesaver, Nari. Thanks again.”
As the call ended, Nari shook her head with a small smile. “She better marry this guy,” she muttered under her breath before diving back into her paperwork.
-
Seonghwa stood behind the bar counter at Mingi’s establishment, his sleeves rolled up, a focused expression on his face. The bar was quiet this afternoon, Mingi having locked the doors to ensure no interruptions during their little mixology lesson.
Mingi leaned against the counter, watching Seonghwa’s meticulous movements with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “Hyung, you don’t have to look like you’re performing heart surgery. It’s just a cocktail.”
“This is Y/N’s favorite cocktail,” Seonghwa countered, his voice sharp with determination. “She said it’s the best drink in the world. I can’t mess this up.”
Wooyoung, seated on one of the barstools, swirled a mocktail in his hand. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure if she knew you were going to this length, she’d already be swooning. You don’t have to perfect it, hyung.”
“Perfection is the bare minimum,” Seonghwa shot back, carefully measuring the ingredients. “Tell me again, Mingi. What’s the trick to getting that foam on top just right?”
Mingi smirked, reaching for a shaker. “It’s all in the shake. You’ve got to go hard and fast, no half-hearted effort. Like this.” He demonstrated with exaggerated movements, the shaker rattling loudly in his hands.
Wooyoung snickered. “I’ve seen you use those moves on the dance floor, Mingi. Impressive multitasking.”
Mingi flipped him off without missing a beat. “Watch and learn, Woo.” He poured the mixture into a glass, revealing a perfectly frothy layer. “Now you try, lover boy.”
Seonghwa took the shaker, his brows furrowed in concentration. He mimicked Mingi’s movements, his arms flexing as he shook the cocktail with vigor.
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, leaning toward Mingi. “Hyung’s shaking that thing like it owes him money.”
Mingi snorted, but the laughter died quickly when Seonghwa poured the drink into a glass, revealing a near-perfect foam.
“Not bad,” Mingi admitted, clapping Seonghwa on the back. “You’re a quick learner.”
Seonghwa allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as he garnished the drink with precision. “She’ll love this.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “You’re setting the bar too high for the rest of us, hyung. Can’t wait for Y/N to brag about how her fiancé makes her custom cocktails at home.”
Seonghwa’s expression softened at the word fiancé. “She deserves every bit of effort. I want everything about that night to be perfect.”
Mingi grinned, handing him the recipe card. “Well, you’ve got the drink down. Just don’t forget to actually ask her to marry you between impressing her with cocktails and gazing at her like a lovesick puppy.”
Seonghwa chuckled, slipping the card into his pocket. “Noted. Thanks for this, Mingi. And for keeping it a secret.”
“Anything for true love,” Mingi replied with mock seriousness, raising his mocktail in a toast.
Wooyoung smirked. “Anything except letting me have this cocktail for free, apparently.”
Mingi rolled his eyes. “Pay up or shut up, Woo.”
As the three men exchanged banter, Seonghwa couldn’t help but imagine your reaction, already counting down the days until the proposal.
---
The warm scent of lavender and eucalyptus surrounded you as you settled into the plush spa chair, your nails being meticulously painted by a skilled technician. Yeri sat beside you, her feet soaking in a tub of warm, scented water, a serene smile on her face that made you narrow your eyes suspiciously.
“You’re unusually chipper today,” you remarked, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye.
“Am I not allowed to be happy?” Yeri retorted, feigning offense.
“You dragged me to a whole-day spa retreat out of the blue,” you pointed out. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but what’s the occasion?”
She shrugged, a little too nonchalantly. “Does there have to be an occasion? Maybe I just wanted some girl time with my CEO best friend.”
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Yeri, the last time you did something like this, it was to butter me up before telling me you totaled your car that I bought you for your birthday.”
Yeri gasped dramatically. “I cannot believe you would bring up my darkest moment during such a relaxing day.”
You smirked. “So? What is it? Spill.”
She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her robe. “Fine. Maybe I just thought you could use a day to unwind. You’ve been busy with work, and… things have been going really well with Seonghwa, haven’t they?”
The mention of his name made your cheeks warm. “They have. But what does that have to do with this?”
“Nothing!” she said quickly, a little too quickly. “I just thought, you know, you deserve to feel pampered.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re acting weird.”
“I am not acting weird,” she insisted, though the guilty flicker in her expression betrayed her.
Before you could press further, the nail technician announced she was finished, and Yeri sprang to her feet. “Massage time!” she said, grabbing your arm and practically dragging you toward the treatment rooms.
“Okay, now you’re definitely up to something,” you said as you followed her, laughing.
Later, during the massage, Yeri lay on her stomach, her face hidden in the cradle of the massage table. “You know,” she said, her voice muffled, “if Seonghwa ever proposes, you better say yes.”
The comment caught you off guard, and you turned your head toward her, frowning. “Where is this coming from?”
“Just saying,” she replied, her tone overly casual. “He’s, like, the perfect guy. Thoughtful, successful, hot…”
You laughed softly. “Are you trying to convince me to marry him?”
“Nope, not at all,” Yeri said quickly. “Just… planting a seed.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Seonghwa wouldn’t propose, Yeri. This is a business arrangement, so basically like a mutual engagement ceremony, not a get down on one knee kind of thing.”
Yeri bit her lip to stifle her grin. She couldn’t wait to see your reaction tomorrow.
-
The soft hum of the yacht's engine and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the hull created a serene atmosphere. The sun was beginning its set on the horizon, casting the sky in hues of gold, pink, and lavender. The air was cool, the scent of the ocean salty and fresh, as it tousled your hair and tugged at your fitted white dress. You leaned against the railing of the top deck, your gaze lost in the vast, endless expanse of water, trying to take in the beauty of the moment.
It was peaceful, calming, perfect.
And then you felt Seonghwa’s presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was him; you felt him before you saw him. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, the kind that made your heart flutter just a little.
“This view suits you,” his voice broke through the silence, low and intimate.
You turned to face him, catching a glimpse of his slightly tousled hair, the loose white linen shirt he was wearing flowing in the evening breeze. He looked effortlessly handsome, confident, and calm—but you could sense the tension in his jaw, the anticipation in his eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” you replied softly, giving him a smile as you gestured to the horizon. “I can’t remember the last time I had time to enjoy something like this.”
He stepped closer, his gaze not leaving yours. There was something in his eyes—something raw and vulnerable. But it was masked by the usual composure he wore.
“So, this is the yacht you bought?” you asked, unable to hide the playful tone in your voice. “Seems... extravagant.”
His lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Sort of,” he said, his tone light and casual, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface.
You raised an eyebrow, sensing the hesitation. “Sort of?”
He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Okay, it’s Jongho’s yacht.”
“Jongho’s?” you repeated, half-laughing. “Didn’t you say you wanted to saw me the yacht you bought? And here I thought you were trying to impress me with your wealth.”
“Well, that too,” he admitted with a sly grin. “But I thought it would be the perfect setting for tonight.”
“Tonight?” You felt a flutter of curiosity in your chest. “What’s so special about tonight?”
He didn’t answer right away, only extended his hand toward you with a slow, deliberate motion. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”
Without another word, you took his hand, your heart thumping against your chest as you followed him down to the main deck. The staff was nowhere in sight; it was just the two of you now, the quiet intimacy of the space wrapping around you.
The dinner table was set perfectly, with crisp white linens, glowing candles, and a stunning bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting in the center. The soft light from the candles flickered in the dimming twilight, casting a warm glow across everything.
You gasped softly, a smile forming on your lips. “Wow… Seonghwa, this is—”
“Do you like it?” he asked, his voice almost tentative.
You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from within you. “Like it? I love it.”
He gave you a satisfied smile and pulled out your chair for you, a gentleman as always, though there was an unmistakable edge to his demeanor tonight.
As dinner went on, you were lost in the moment, savoring every bite of food, every glance between you two, and the rare, intimate silence that settled between you. The yacht gently rocked with the waves, the gentle hum of the engine setting a peaceful rhythm. But you could feel the change in the air. Something was different about tonight. Something was building.
When dessert came—a delicate chocolate mousse with fresh berries—Seonghwa suddenly stood up, his movements slow, deliberate. You followed his lead, your curiosity piqued.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious than before.
You set your spoon down, meeting his eyes. Your heart was racing now, a small flutter of anticipation at the back of your throat.
His gaze softened as he took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.”
You swallowed, your pulse quickening. “What is it?”
Instead of answering, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. The moment you saw it, your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Everything seemed to freeze.
“Y/N…” He lowered himself to one knee in front of you, his expression tender and vulnerable. “I know things didn’t start like a typical relationship, but what we’ve built together means everything to me. You mean everything to me, and I’m unconditionally in love with you. You’ve brought joy, peace, and a kind of love into my life I didn’t know I was missing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And so...”
He opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring, its facets catching the soft glow of the candles and reflecting the light as though it was alive. The room seemed to hold its breath as you stared at the ring, then back at him, the love in his eyes almost tangible.
His voice was barely a whisper as he asked, “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
You couldn’t speak right away, your heart in your throat, but your eyes welled with tears as you stared at him. Everything he’d said, everything he had done to make this moment perfect, flooded over you. The love, the patience, the depth of his feelings for you—it was all too much to process.
With a shaky breath, you whispered, “Yes. Yes, Seonghwa, I’ll marry you.”
His face broke into the widest, most genuine smile you’d ever seen. He slipped the ring onto your finger with trembling hands, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, he stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace.
“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he murmured against your hair.
You laughed softly, your hands trembling as you touched his chest, feeling his heart beat in sync with yours. “I think we just made each other the happiest.”
The kiss that followed was slow and sweet, filled with the promise of forever. The world seemed to disappear around you, leaving only Seonghwa, your now fiancé, and a love that had finally come full circle.
The sudden sound of cheers broke through the intimate bubble you and Seonghwa had created. You pulled back from the kiss, startled, only to see the yacht staff clapping enthusiastically. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you buried your face in Seonghwa’s chest, overwhelmed and a little embarrassed by the attention.
“They were in on it?” you asked, your voice muffled against him.
Seonghwa chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter soothing. “Of course. I needed some help to make tonight perfect. All our friends helped in some way.”
A photographer you hadn’t noticed before stepped forward, his camera clicking as he captured more pictures of the two of you. He must have been hiding nearby, capturing the entire proposal as it unfolded.
You glanced at Seonghwa, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Pictures too? You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
He smiled down at you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t want to forget a single moment of this night. And I thought you might like to have these memories to look back on someday.”
The photographer took a few more shots, stepping back with a satisfied nod. “Congratulations to the both of you,” he said warmly before retreating, likely to give you privacy.
The staff, sensing the moment was still yours to savor, began quietly retreating to their stations, leaving you and Seonghwa alone once more. The candles flickered in the gentle evening breeze, and the faint sound of waves lapping against the yacht filled the silence.
You looked down at the ring now adorning your finger, its brilliance dazzling even in the dim light. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, running your thumb over the delicate band.
Seonghwa gently tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze full of love and adoration.
A small laugh bubbled up from your chest. “You’re such a romantic. I never would have guessed.”
He smirked, leaning closer so his forehead rested against yours. “You bring it out of me.”
You sighed, letting the warmth of his words settle over you. “Thank you, Seonghwa. For all of this. For… us.”
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as if to anchor you to him. “I should be thanking you. You said yes, after all.”
The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, the reality of your new future sinking in. The stars above seemed to twinkle brighter, and the ocean stretched endlessly around you—a perfect metaphor for the journey you were about to embark on together.
Finally, he pulled back, his expression turning mischievous. “Now, Mrs. Park-to-be,” he said, his tone light, “how about we celebrate properly? I took some lessons from Mingi on how to make your favorite cocktail.”
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Mingi gave you lessons? This I have to see.”
Seonghwa intertwined his fingers with yours, tugging you gently toward the staircase leading below deck. “I figured it was only right, considering how much you love that drink. But fair warning, I’m not a professional… yet.”
You laughed, following his lead, a giggle escaping your lips. “I have very high expectations, fiancé.”
The word felt foreign yet perfect as it rolled off your tongue, and the way Seonghwa’s face lit up at hearing it made your heart swell. He glanced back at you, his smile softening into something far more intimate.
“I don’t plan on disappointing you,” he murmured, his tone carrying a quiet promise.
The lower deck was as beautifully arranged as the top, with soft lighting and a cozy seating area near a fully stocked bar. Seonghwa guided you to sit while he moved behind the bar, rolling up his sleeves with exaggerated flair.
“Alright, let’s see if I remember everything Mingi drilled into me,” he said, picking up the shaker.
You leaned back, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him with amusement. “No pressure or anything. But if it’s terrible, I’m never letting you forget it.”
He shot you a mock glare before getting to work, carefully measuring and mixing the ingredients with surprising precision. As he worked, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly charming he looked, even while concentrating.
Finally, he poured the drink into a chilled glass, sliding it across the bar toward you with a triumphant grin. “One Y/N-approved cocktail, ready to impress.”
You took a cautious sip, the familiar flavors bursting on your tongue. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. “Seonghwa… this is actually good.”
His grin turned smug, and he leaned against the bar, watching you with a glint in his eye. “Is that so? I’ll take that as a win.”
Setting the glass down, you got up and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “A big win,” you admitted, pulling him closer.
Seonghwa’s arms circled your waist, and his smile softened as he gazed down at you. He was about to say something, his lips parting, when a sudden flash of light startled you both.
“Ah, sorry!” the photographer said sheepishly, lowering his camera. “I’ve been capturing everything quietly, but I thought I’d try the flash for this one.”
You blinked, momentarily surprised, before chuckling softly. “That’s no problem at all! Thank you for your hard work.”
Seonghwa turned slightly, his hand still resting on your waist, giving the photographer a polite nod. “You’ve been doing an excellent job. We’ll probably frame half of these,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he glanced back at you.
The photographer grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Park. I’ll make sure the shots are perfect.”
“Shall we go to the top deck to take more pictures?” Seonghwa asked the photographer. “I recall you saying you knew a great technique?”
The photographer grinned, nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely, Mr. Park! The top deck at this hour will give us stunning shots with the night sky as a backdrop.”
Seonghwa turned to you, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Shall we? I think a few pictures with the stars above and the ocean behind us would be perfect.”
You laughed lightly, slipping your hand into his. “You’re really going all out with this, aren’t you?”
“For you? Always,” he replied without missing a beat, guiding you toward the staircase that led to the top deck.
The cool breeze met you as you stepped onto the open deck, the stars scattered across the sky like diamonds on velvet. The photographer followed closely, already adjusting his camera settings for the low light.
“Why don’t you stand over there?” he suggested, pointing to the edge of the deck where the soft glow of the yacht’s lights faded into the darkness of the sea. “I’ll frame the two of you with the horizon, it’ll look magical.”
Seonghwa placed his arm around your waist, pulling you close as you stood together at the rail. The photographer clicked away, occasionally murmuring directions.
“Turn just slightly… perfect. Now look at each other—yes, like that!”
You glanced up at Seonghwa, his expression so tender it made your chest ache. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?” you teased softly.
He smirked, leaning closer. “Can you blame me? I just proposed to the most beautiful woman in the world. I want every second of this night captured.”
Your cheeks warmed, and you playfully swatted his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re irresistible,” he countered, tilting his head just enough to brush a kiss against your temple.
“Got it!” the photographer called, breaking the moment. “These are going to turn out stunning. Do you want a few more with a different angle?”
Seonghwa glanced at you, his smile asking the question as much as his words. “One more set?”
You nodded, unable to hide your own excitement. “Why not? Let’s make this night unforgettable.”
The three of you moved to a new spot on the deck, the laughter and easy banter between you and Seonghwa filling the air as the camera continued to click, immortalizing the beginning of your forever together.
-x-x-x-
Nari burst into your office, barely able to contain her laughter as she waved her phone in the air. “Ms. Y/N! You have to see this. The media is going wild!”
You raised an eyebrow, setting your pen down. “What now?”
With a grin, she handed over her phone. On the screen was an article with a headline so dramatic it almost made you laugh:
“CEO of Byeol Materials Group, Park Seonghwa, Spotted on a Diamond Hunt! Engagement Rumors Spark Frenzy. But Who is the Lucky Woman?”
You blinked, glancing up at Nari before reading the rest aloud:
“Park Seonghwa, the enigmatic and wildly successful CEO of Byeol Materials Group, has been caught making waves yet again—but this time, it’s not about business.
The CEO was seen visiting multiple exclusive jewelry stores over the past few weeks, meticulously inspecting engagement rings. According to insiders from two of the stores, Seonghwa spent considerable time consulting on custom designs, sparking speculation that he’s planning to pop the question.
Known for his fiercely private nature, CEO Park has everyone guessing: Who could the lucky woman be? Industry insiders and fans alike are buzzing with theories, ranging from high-society heiresses to childhood sweethearts.
‘He was extremely particular about what he wanted,’ one jeweler revealed under anonymity. ‘He didn’t settle for anything less than perfection.’
While CEO Park’s representatives have declined to comment, sources close to the CEO hint that the engagement might be announced soon. With his recent public appearances marked by a certain glow and his habit of dodging personal questions, it seems the notoriously composed CEO might be ready to take the leap into married life.
As speculation mounts, one thing is certain: whoever she is, she’s one very lucky lady. Stay tuned as we uncover more about the mystery that is Park Seonghwa’s love life.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, handing the phone back to Nari. “They’re really reaching, aren’t they?”
Nari crossed her arms, trying to look innocent but failing miserably. “Reaching? Or spot-on?”
You shot her a look. “You’re not even trying to be subtle, are you?”
“Why should I? I was involved in planning the proposal too, after all,” she said with a triumphant smirk.
You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “How is this already news? It hasn’t even been 48 hours!”
“Seonghwa’s too high-profile, and the media are like hawks,” Nari replied, still grinning. “But hey, at least they’re calling you lucky.”
Rolling your eyes, you gave her a playful shove. “Out. And don’t you dare let this blow up any further.”
She laughed as she left the room, her voice echoing down the hallway. “No promises!”
-
The dining room at Seonghwa’s luxurious residence was abuzz with conversation as your family and his gathered around the long, elegantly set table. The warm glow of the chandelier illuminated the room, and the soft hum of classical music played in the background, adding to the sophisticated ambiance.
Your mother was the first to bring up the engagement party. “We’re so thrilled to host it at our mansion,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “The new flowers we planted will be in full bloom soon, and it’s the perfect setting for such a special occasion.”
Seonghwa’s mother smiled warmly. “It’s an excellent choice. Intimate, yet grand enough to accommodate everyone we’d like to invite. I’ve heard your family has hosted some of the most memorable events there.”
“Thank you,” your father chimed in, nodding. “We’ve already contacted the decorators and catering teams. They’re preparing something truly exceptional.”
Seonghwa leaned back slightly, his hand casually resting on the arm of his chair. “It sounds like everything is coming together perfectly. What about the guest list? Have we finalized it?”
Hongjoong, seated next to your father, smirked. “Oh, it’s finalized all right. Between both our families, close friends, and the necessary business connections, we’re looking at a sizable number.”
Your mother chuckled. “Not too large, though. We want it to feel personal.”
Seonghwa’s father nodded approvingly. “Good. It’s important to strike that balance.”
Then, as the plates of dessert were being served, the conversation shifted.
“When do we plan to make the public announcement?” Seonghwa’s mother asked, her gaze moving between you and Seonghwa. “There’s been plenty of speculation in the media already.”
You exchanged a quick glance with Seonghwa, who gave you a reassuring smile before speaking. “I think it would be ideal to announce it right after the engagement party,” he said. “That way, the news will come directly from us, accompanied by official photos. It’ll leave no room for misunderstandings.”
Your father nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a smart approach. We’ll also have more control over the narrative that way.”
“But won’t the media catch wind of the party itself?” your mother asked.
Seonghwa’s mother waved her hand dismissively. “Let them speculate. It’ll only build anticipation. By the time we confirm it, it’ll already be the story everyone’s waiting for.”
“Exactly,” Seonghwa agreed. Then, turning his attention to you, he added, “Of course, we’ll only proceed this way if you’re comfortable with it.”
You smiled at him, appreciating his consideration. “I think it sounds like a solid plan. Let’s do it.”
“Wonderful,” his father said, raising his glass. “To a smooth engagement and a future filled with happiness for the two of you.”
Everyone lifted their glasses, the clinking of crystal marking the moment. As the evening went on, the discussion shifted to lighter topics, but the excitement about the upcoming engagement lingered in the air, uniting both families in a shared sense of joy and anticipation.
---
Two weeks later
The engagement party was nothing short of spectacular. Your family mansion had been transformed into a stunning venue, its grand garden illuminated by thousands of twinkling fairy lights and elegant chandeliers suspended from a custom-built canopy. Guests mingled around, their laughter and conversations blending with the soft music from a live string quartet. The scent of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, and orchids—filled the air, a testament to the meticulous arrangements.
You stood near the entrance, greeting guests alongside Seonghwa. Dressed in a custom ivory gown adorned with subtle embellishments that sparkled under the lights, you felt every bit the part. Seonghwa, by your side in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, looked effortlessly handsome, his presence commanding yet comforting.
“Y/N, you look stunning,” a guest remarked as they passed.
“Thank you,” you replied warmly, your hand instinctively slipping into Seonghwa’s.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong teased, joining you with a drink in hand. “But don’t let it get to your head.”
Seonghwa chuckled, glancing at you. “I think I’ve already won tonight.”
“You’re cheesy,” you said, suppressing a laugh.
“Only for you,” he replied with a wink, earning a playful roll of your eyes.
The evening proceeded seamlessly. The media had been carefully kept at bay, allowing everyone to enjoy the event in peace. Your parents were busy entertaining important guests, while Seonghwa’s parents mingled effortlessly, their charm evident. Friends like San, Yeosang, and Yunho made sure the atmosphere remained lively, occasionally cracking jokes and teasing Seonghwa about “finally sealing the deal.”
As you were chatting with a few guests, you noticed Mingi quickly making his way toward you and Seonghwa, his steps hurried, and Wooyoung trailing behind him, laughing so loudly it turned heads.
“Is it true?” Mingi exclaimed as he reached you, a look of mock astonishment plastered on his face. “Is it actually true? You really did it?”
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hide his smile. “I placed the order for it that day at the store while buying Y/N’s ring. It arrived today.”
Mingi gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Oh my! The wealthy are insane!”
You blinked, thoroughly confused by the exchange. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re wealthy too, Mingi,” Yeosang quipped, joining the group.
“Not as much as lover boy here, clearly!” Mingi shot back, causing Wooyoung to laugh even harder.
“Seriously, what’s going on?” you asked, looking between the men.
Seonghwa chuckled softly, placing a hand on your lower back and gently steering you toward a nearby table. On it sat a sleek, golden-colored vase filled with intricate crystal flowers, their facets sparkling brilliantly under the soft lighting.
You tilted your head, confused by the reaction the simple centerpiece seemed to provoke. “It’s just a vase with crystal flowers. Why is everyone acting so weird?”
“Oh my god!” Mingi exclaimed, dramatically pointing at the vase. “You actually did it!”
“Did what?” you asked, glancing at Seonghwa, who looked more amused by the second.
Hongjoong approached with a sly grin. “I think I need to explain this to my dear sister,” he said, picking up the vase with exaggerated reverence. “These aren’t just crystals, Y/N. These flowers are made of diamonds. And the vase? That’s solid gold.”
Your jaw dropped as the realization hit. “No way,” you breathed, horrified yet slightly in awe.
“Yup, solid gold vase, diamond flowers. You’re engaged to a madman,” Hongjoong teased, handing the vase back to Seonghwa with a smirk.
“Hold on,” you said, still trying to process. “Why would you even…?”
“Y/N being surprised is so funny to me because this probably costs like 0.03% of her net worth,” Yeosang said to Mingi, causing him to gasp in horror while doing the math in his head.
Before Seonghwa could answer you, Wooyoung burst in, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Because of me!” he announced proudly. “We were at Mingi’s bar when Seonghwa was freaking out about what flowers to get you. I joked that he should just give you flower-shaped diamonds since he’s so loaded. And this lunatic actually went and did it!”
“Seriously?” you asked, staring at Seonghwa, who looked entirely unapologetic.
He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Why settle for regular flowers when I can give you ones that last forever?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands while the others burst into laughter. “You’re impossible.”
As the evening wore on, the party reached its highlight.
A soft chime rang out, signaling that it was time for the formal announcement. Seonghwa gently took your hand and led you to the center of the garden, where a small stage had been set up. The crowd naturally gravitated toward you, forming a semicircle around the stage.
Seonghwa stepped forward, his hand still holding yours, and addressed the crowd. “Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us on this very special night. Today marks the beginning of a new chapter, not just for me, but for us.” He glanced at you, his gaze tender and full of love.
You felt a wave of warmth, his words wrapping around you like a protective embrace.
“This isn’t just a union of two people,” he continued, “but a blending of families, dreams, and futures. I’m honored and deeply grateful to have Y/N by my side. She’s more than I could ever ask for.”
The guests erupted into applause, some cheering loudly.
He turned to you, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. “Would you like to say anything?”
You smiled, stepping closer to the microphone. “Thank you all for being here tonight. This means so much to us. And I want to thank Seonghwa—” you turned to him, your smile growing—“for his patience, his kindness, and for always being someone I can count on. I’m looking forward to spending forever with you.”
The applause grew louder, and you felt Seonghwa’s hand squeeze yours gently.
Champagne glasses were passed around as the announcement concluded, and the guests toasted to your happiness. As you clinked glasses with Seonghwa, he leaned in and whispered, “We have more celebrations tonight.”
You blushed, knowing exactly what he meant. The party continued with dancing, laughter, and endless congratulations, but for you and Seonghwa, the night had already become unforgettable.
-
The time had come. The highly anticipated announcement of your engagement was finally being made. But instead of the usual press conference where personal details were shared, both you and Seonghwa had decided to make the announcement with a joint statement from your companies. It was a more formal, yet still deeply personal, way to publicly confirm your relationship and future plans.
The statement was prepared, the details carefully chosen. Your family’s PR team had worked closely with Seonghwa’s to craft the perfect message, one that emphasized both the personal and professional aspects of your union, highlighting not only your relationship but the strength of the bond between your families and their businesses.
The joint statement was released via your respective companies' official websites and social media accounts, accompanied by a few carefully selected photos of the two of you together. It quickly spread across the business world and social media platforms.
Joint Statement from Byeol Materials Group and Aurum Medical Technologies
It is with great pleasure that we announce the engagement of Park Seonghwa, CEO of Byeol Materials Group, and Kim Y/N, CEO of Aurum Medical Technologies. The decision to formalize their relationship has been made with the full support of both families, who have worked closely together for many years.
In addition to the personal significance of this engagement, this union also symbolizes the continued partnership between Byeol Materials Group and Aurum Medical Technologies as well as the Celestia Group, solidifying a longstanding collaboration that has benefited both our companies and the broader industry.
While this is a deeply personal milestone for CEO Park Seonghwa and CEO Kim Y/N, both parties are committed to continuing their professional work in their respective roles and furthering the legacies of both businesses. We are excited about the future and look forward to what lies ahead as they embark on this new chapter together.
We would like to express our gratitude for the continued support from all our partners, clients, and stakeholders, and we look forward to sharing more with you in the near future.
The message was clear: the engagement was not just a personal matter but also a business decision, an alliance between two powerful families that would benefit both professionally and personally. The timing was strategic, and the tone of the statement was one of unity, strength, and mutual respect.
The reactions came in waves. The business world buzzed with excitement and curiosity, and the media quickly picked up the announcement. People from all corners of the industry began speculating about the potential ramifications of the union, from its impact on the companies to what it meant for future ventures.
But you and Seonghwa knew that this was just the beginning of the next chapter, both professionally and personally.
After the statement was released, the phones began ringing off the hook. Wooyoung had already fielded countless calls from business partners and investors, all eager to congratulate him and express their support. Your own team was handling a similar influx of calls, from acquaintances to business associates who had all read the news with varying degrees of excitement and curiosity.
Seonghwa glanced at you, his eyes meeting yours with an almost playful intensity. “Well, that went smoothly.”
You grinned, feeling the weight of the moment. “You could say that again.”
“I mean, the hard part’s over now, right?” He chuckled, looking at you with a raised brow.
You raised an eyebrow in return, smirking. “You think so? I think this is just the beginning.”
His smile deepened, and he stepped closer to you, his voice low and teasing. “We’ll see about that.”
The atmosphere between you and Seonghwa shifted, a comfortable silence hanging between you both as you exchanged glances. The buzz of congratulatory messages and business calls surrounding you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in the moment.
Seonghwa reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering at your skin. His gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the business world, the PR statements, and the expectations all melted away. It was just you two.
"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice a little more serious now, a quiet vulnerability in his tone that you rarely heard.
You tilted your head slightly, considering the question. Your initial response was to make light of it, to tease him, but something about the sincerity in his eyes stopped you. Instead, you answered honestly.
"Yeah," you replied with a small smile. "I am. I'm nervous, though. There’s a lot of pressure, you know?"
Seonghwa nodded in understanding. "I get it. But we’ll take it one step at a time. We’re in it together."
You smiled softly at his words. The comfort in his voice, the way he made sure to acknowledge your feelings even in this whirlwind of changes—it made the idea of marrying him, of officially committing to this, a little less daunting.
"Together," you repeated, the weight of the word settling into your chest. "I think we can handle it."
He took a step closer, his hand resting gently on your waist as he leaned in slightly. "We already are," he said quietly, brushing his lips against your temple before pulling back just enough to look at you. "We’ll face whatever comes together. And besides..." He paused, his playful smirk returning. "Planning for the wedding is going to be a breeze compared to what we’ve already been through."
You chuckled, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease. "I have a feeling the real fun’s just about to start."
Seonghwa grinned at that, his eyes alight with mischief. "Oh, I’m sure of it."
End of Part Four.
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bullet-prooflove · 3 days ago
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5500 Follower Celebration: Tears of Pearl - Eliot Spencer x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @madisonbroxson1 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog  @readings-to-share  @sameenbyhat
Companion piece to:
Star - Eliot realises he's made a terrible mistake.
The Worst Thing - There's only two people that know the worst thing Eliot has ever done.
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You’re wearing pearls,  Tahitian black pearls to be exact.
 It’s the first thing Eliot notices because it’s an unusual choice for a woman of your calibre. You society girls usually prefer diamonds, the bigger the better. That’s the first indication you’re not like the others, it’s not the last.
He spends a year getting to know you as your personal protection specialist. You hate the fact you have a bodyguard but he was hired by your fiancé Moreau after threats have been made by some of the people he’s pissed off.
“I can’t have anything happening to my investment.” He tells Eliot as he sits across from him at a desk that costs more than most homes these days. “This marriage opens up a lot of doors for me, gives me connections I wouldn’t have access to.”
“What does her father get out of it?” He’d asked as he flicked through your dossier.
“A cash injection into some of his more problematic businesses.” He’d said as he lounged back in his chair. “He can’t stand the shame of failing.”
You are everything that Eliot does not expect from someone whose a daughter in one of the founding families. He sees the work you do with those charities, the way you immerse yourself in it as if you’re trying to make up for the sins of those that came before you. You’re not content with cutting a cheque, you need to be involved and not in the public shit either, the stuff that would get you recognition, but the grassroots stuff. Teaching kids to read, sitting with the elderly who have no families and then there’s the homeless, the people who don’t have a voice.
The first time you sit down next to a veteran in the street Eliot almost hurls you right back up because you, you don’t seem to understand the risk that comes with being with Moreau. The fact the people who are trying to hurt him will use you to do it.
“Let me take five minutes to share a coffee and a sandwich with my new friend Joe.” You negotiate and he reluctantly agrees.
It’s not five minutes, it’s thirty because Joe, he’s non-threatening and watching you interact with him it’s fascinating. You don’t act like other people, you don’t talk over him, try to give him advice, you just listen and to a guy like Joe whose spent years being in the background, ignored, it’s overwhelming, which is why you take his hand when he gets a little upset, clasping it tightly in your own. He understands in that moment that you’re lonely, that you probably have been for a long time.
When you do come away Eliot’s silent because he isn’t sure how to articulate this new knowledge. It’s only when you get to the car that he notices your pearl necklace is gone, that you must have placed it into Joe’s cup.
“You gonna keep giving away all your jewellery like that?” He asks you, his gaze flickering up to meet yours as he watches you in the rearview mirror.
“They’re just things.” You say distractedly, looking out of the window. “Things that could help other people who actually need it.”
That’s when Eliot realises how trapped you are in this world, it’s a gilded cage you were born into, not one that you want. When he looks back he knows that that’s the moment that things changed between the two of you, he saw you for you, not the role that Moreau had crafted for you.
Six months down the line, you’re wearing a different set of pearls, a more expensive set and Eliot’s tearing them from your throat, breaking the strands because you’re in the midst of a panic attack and the damn things are practically padlocked around your neck with a gold clasp that can only be undone with a key. The pearls scatter across the floor, rolling in all directions and that lock, he throws it out the window in disgust.
It’s another Moreau special. A collar to remind you who you belong to because he saw you talking to another man at a charity event, one that had paid you a little too much attention. He doesn’t know that Eliot spends most nights in your bed, that he makes love to you in the shower before he puts on his suit and pretends he’s been in his own room all along.
“I don’t want to marry him.” You sob as Eliot uses his thumb to chase away the tears that leak down your cheeks. He despises the kind of man that can do this to you, that steals away your autonomy, that tries to stamp out all the goodness in your soul.
“You don’t have to.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he looks into your eyes. “I’ll find a way to get you out of this. I promise you I will.”
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bestalbertcamuslover · 1 day ago
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Question...? pt.2
This is part two, here's part one, and part three
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︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶
✯ pairing:  Jenson Button x pop star!Reader ✯
✯ content warnings: none✯
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶
It passed eventually, someone else filled her heart with awe, became the muse of her songs, and drew endless smiles on her face. Edward made her feel that fuzzy feeling in her stomach again, although not as intense, in a more steady way, not the rollercoaster she had once missed so much.
“Almost three years together,” Edward whispered softly in her ear, his breath warm against her skin.
She smiled, leaning into him as they swayed to the music in the dim glow of their living room. The song wasn’t one of hers this time—it was something soft and jazzy, the kind of melody that didn’t demand attention but filled the space between them like a comforting blanket.
“Has it really been that long?” she teased, turning to meet his gaze.
Edward’s hazel eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “Feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?”
She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. And it did. Edward had slipped into her life like a missing piece of an endless puzzle, filling a gap she had not known existed. He wasn’t a whirlwind, not the kind to sweep her off her feet and leave her breathless. Instead, he was a steady rhythm, a soft crescendo that built into something solid, something real.
He was just a finance guy—a very one-of-a-kind one, since he was down-to-earth, very caring, very sensitive. And she felt lucky, very lucky. Almost as if he saw the real her—not the pop star, not an object or a fantasy, just a person. And she saw her true self in him, grounding her, not letting her ego get too big, not letting the savage scrutiny and unrelenting criticism get to her head.
Her songs were a mirror of her thoughts, sometimes even before they passed through her conscious mind. It showed, as her lyrics were cozy, felt like home. But that lovely home sometimes felt suffocating; that steady chimney did not offer the same heat as the untamed fire that once—only once—burned her.
She hated herself for it. For the way her mind wandered when he wasn’t looking. For the way her songs had started to carry a bittersweet edge, lyrics slipping through her consciousness before she could stop them. “Your touch is safe, your love is steady, but my heart remembers wild and unready.”
Jenson was not helping. He would sometimes mention her in interviews, his tone reminiscent of the one you would use when talking about an old friend. What they had was so fleeting, maybe even insignificant, that no one, not even the most die-hard fans, could tell it had happened. To everyone, they seemed to be just friends.
Why? she asked, almost begged the universe that had once cruelly united them, every time he did that. She also wondered if he listened to her songs, questioning the same thing. However, she doubted he would see himself as the muse for those. It was her mind magnifying whatever had happened, she felt. He played—or that was what she thought.
And again, the haunting lyrics and melodies that betrayed her true feelings she was fighting to ignore. The pen hovered over the page, her handwriting messy and uneven, as though the words were tumbling out faster than she could keep up. The melody looped softly in her mind, but the lyrics—those came fast, raw, and jagged, pulling at threads she thought she’d long since buried.
Good girl, bad boy. Big city, wrong choices.
She bit her lip, her chest tightening as she wrote the next lines, the memories flooding back with startling clarity, reviving those moments in an uncanny likeness. She didn’t need to think about it; it was all there, etched in the spaces of her mind she had forced herself to rarely visited. The crowded room, the teasing laughter, the kiss that lingered longer than it should have.
Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room,And every single one of your friends was making fun of you,But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?
Her breath hitched. The words felt too real, too close, as if they exposed more than she was ready to admit, even to herself. She put down the pen and leaned back in her chair, staring at the half-finished song in front of her.
“Writing again?”
She startled, looking up to see Edward standing in the doorway, his hair mussed and his smile soft. He walked toward her, setting down a mug of tea beside her.
“Yeah,” she said quickly, closing the notebook slightly, but not enough to seem suspicious. “Just... messing around with some ideas.”
Edward sat down on the armrest of her chair, glancing at the page. “What’s this one about?”
She hesitated, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell him—not about the inspiration, not about the man who still haunted the corners of her songs like the most fearsome yet most unreal of ghosts. “It’s just fiction,” she explained lightly, forcing a smile. “Something I came up with while daydreaming.”
Edward frowned slightly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the notebook. “It doesn’t sound like us.”
“No,” she admitted, her voice carefully steady. “It’s not. It’s... a story, you know? Something I imagined after watching a movie.”
He studied her for a moment, his eyes soft but searching. “It’s good,” he responded finally. “A little sad, but good. You’re brilliant, you know that?”
Her stomach twisted as piercing guilt crept in. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his, and smiled as genuinely as she could. “Thank you.”
Edward leaned down to kiss her forehead, then stood. “I’ll let you get back to it. Can’t wait to hear the final version.”
She watched him leave, her smile fading as soon as he was out of sight. Turning back to the notebook, she let out a shaky breath.
Did you wish you’d put up more of a fight?
Her pen pressed harder against the page. The words came again, insistent and demanding, as if they refused to be ignored. 
She knew Edward would never suspect the truth behind the song. He’d take it for what she said it was—a story, a piece of fiction, a distant echo of someone else’s life. But she knew better. The truth was, Question...? wasn’t just a song.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶
✯ authors note: I will do part three ASAP. I included more dialogue because part one sounded more like a chronicle than a story.
English is not my first language. I hope you liked it <333
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urfavisaminor · 2 days ago
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Shipping ABUSE is supporting ABUSE. a short opinion piece
(P.S. BEFORE ANY OF YOU ASK this is NOT SATIRE!!!!!!! I AM MAKING ARGUMENTS THAT ARE VERY SERIOUS AND MEANY TO BE TAKEN LITERALLY, listen to ur ant queen! blindly. THIS IS A VERY VERY VERY VEYR VERY VEYR EGRYR VERY VEYR VEYR VERY SERIOUS BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!) I'm not satire I'm not dairy I am serious and smart you people just can't handle my genius I'm so dmart if you disagree with me ur wrong and I'm right
Noq to the main topic, why peoshippers are hitler, while yes, I’m talking about fictional characters, don’t you get it?????? If you write about characters yelling at each other, having a small argument or even an "enemies to lovers"/"rivals to lovers" you’re basically telling your readers that it’s okay to let their partners gasloghtt and hitthem IRL!!!!!! You’re ruining lives with your degenerate scum smut! ITS YOUR FAULT AND I HATE YOU
Bakudeku is proship btw (proship problematic ship) because Bakaga told Deeki to khs once in middle school and was a meanie
“But it’s just fiction!” WELL SO IS NAZI PROPAGANDA so if ur proship just know you're comparable to actual nazis and are clearly racist and ableist and homophobic and transphobic. What’s your next excuse? You’re LITERALLY training people to ignore red flags.
And before anyone says, “It’s just a ship!” let me remind you that words have power. Your abusive ship fanfic lemon could be THE reason someone’s cousin’s roommate's aunt's co-worker's friend decides to stay with their toxic boyfriend. That will happen AND IT WILL BE YOUR RESPONSABILITY. IT *IS* YOU JOB TO HANDLE OTHER PEOPLES TRIGGERS, MAKING THIS CONTENT MAKES YOU HUST AS BAD AS ACTUAL ABUSERS.
NORMALIZING ABUSE IS ABUSE. there's no other motive you would ship this otherwise!
None of you care about real victime (the only real victims are the ones who dont use this shit to "cope"").
In conclusion: You’re all enabling abusers only comparable to the literal devil. Go outside and touch grass. Preferably the kind that makes you itch.
ur wrong and I'm right !
I am so smart so smart so smart
It's okay for me to like problematic media thought! I like problematic ships CORRECTLTy ur just consume it not correctly
try doing it correctly next time
I am not hypocritical
no
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lemotmo · 3 days ago
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I agree with all of this, "hope this helps" 🤣🤣. It would not be cheating at all and even if it was cheating I still wouldn't care 😅. Where do you sit on this topic?
Q. Let me start by saying I desperately want Buddie together but I have a growing suspicion that they're going to insinuate or outright show that they kissed at the bachelor party and that would taint them from go for me because putting them together through cheating, especially on a character the show established had turned into a really good guy, is so unnecessary and disgusting and ruins them right off the bat.
A. I wasn't going to reply to this ask but I have several similar asks currently sitting in my inbox so I'm going to respond even though this person is clearly a tommy trying to pretend to be a Buddie. How are you all still so bad at all of this nearly a year on? Your ask is a completely disingenuous take. If having them kiss at the bachelor party ruins them from the start for you then you don't 'desperately' want them together. You don't want them together at all and I don't know why you feel the need to pretend that you do. When the bachelor party takes place Buck and Tommy had been on ONE very bad date. Yes, they had a conversation where Buck said he wanted to try again but they were not a couple. You can't cheat on someone you've had one date with. Furthermore the show definitely didn't establish that Tommy had become some stand up remarkable human being, that is laughable. He was a sexist racist when they needed him the first time around for Chim and Hen, and he was a gay man the second time around when they needed someone for the coming out storyline. That's it. The show didn't care to establish anything else about him. The fact he left Buck standing on a curb after he understandably panicked a bit during their first date and then told Buck Abby went crazy when he dumped her pretty much illustrates though that he wasn't a great guy.
Forcing real life moral codes onto fictional characters is always a recipe for pain though. You can't do that. The very nature of the media they exist in doesn't allow for real life moral rules to always be followed. Real life people don't always do the right thing. Expecting fictional character to do so is ridiculous. Drama comes from their mistakes so television shows will always have them screw up and make bad decisions every now and again. I don't want them to have kissed at the bachelor party because I don't want their first kiss to be a flashback, but I won't be terribly bothered if that is the route they take because it's not that big of a leap to make. They made a point of making both of them drunk, Oliver mentioned in an interview while talking about filming the karaoke scene that everyone needs a little liquid courage now and then. They made a point of releasing the deleted scene with Eddie telling Chris about how he met Shannon and what he liked so much about her when they first met. The show then intentionally had the bachelor party mirror that story with Buck talking all night long and showing how close and intertwined they both were all night long. The karaoke song even fit the callback of that story from Eddie. We also cannot ignore the fact that Eddie basically blew up his life following the bachelor party so going back and showing that something did indeed happen between the two of them that night would not be some astronomical story leap. I have said from the beginning they filmed way too much content and spent way too much money for those scenes to just never come up again or be shown. I don't think we're getting the actual karaoke scene but I do think we might get some of the other scenes in a flashback of some kind but we don't know that for sure. That New Year's Day post was definitely an intentional choice and it was certainly an interesting choice, but it doesn't necessarily indicate anything bachelor party related is coming. It could just be one more thing to add to the growing belief that Buddie is very much coming though.
Lastly, even if Buck and tommy had been in a full blown years long relationship and the show had Buck and Eddie get together by cheating on him I still wouldn't care or be angry. They could murder him, chop him up and dispose of the body and I would call it the most romantic thing ever. I genuinely don't care about him at all. Hope this helps ☺️
Thank you Nonny! 🤗
As for where I stand on this topic?
Listen, I grew up on soap operas where everyone cheated on everyone.😋 It never bothered me. In fact, it brought some extra tension and I love that in a show. So I don't really care one way or the other.
But also, Tommy wasn't his boyfriend at that time. They were trying things out and so far Tommy had proven himself to be a bit of an ass. So no, if we find out that Buck and Eddie kissed or made out during that bachelor's party? I will cheer.🙌🙌🙌
I've been here since te beginning. They need to get this show on the road and if this is the way they have chosen to go? I'm fine with it.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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