#marriage photos near me

[reetu24]

Marriage Photos near me

Capture the essence of your love story with enchanting marriage photos near you. Find the perfect backdrop, from scenic landscapes to urban settings, and immortalize your special day with professional photographers who understand your vision. Create timeless memories with marriage photos that reflect your unique bond and style.

[flamestar126]

Snuggling near the fire

Click for better quality

[avanthikaphotography]

Essential Shots to Include in Your Wedding Photo Shoot in Hyderabad

Your wedding day is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and capturing its essence through beautiful photographs is essential. With the picturesque backdrop of Hyderabad, you have the perfect setting for creating timeless memories. To ensure that you don't miss out on any crucial shots, let's delve into the must-have shots for your wedding photo shoot.

Essential Shots to Include in Your Wedding Photo Shoot in Hyderabad

The Grand Entrance

Your journey towards a beautiful union begins with a grand entrance. Capture the anticipation and excitement as you make your way to the venue. The moment your guests catch the first glimpse of you is pure magic.

Candid Moments with Loved Ones

Nothing beats candid shots with your loved ones. From the laughter to the tears of joy, these moments are precious. Pre Wedding Studios Hyderabad excels at capturing these heartfelt interactions.

The Exchange of Vows

The exchange of vows is the heart of your wedding ceremony. Ensure that your photographer captures the emotion in your eyes as you promise a lifetime of love and togetherness.

The First Kiss

Seal your vows with a kiss that speaks of love and commitment. This shot is a classic and a must-have in your wedding album.

Bridal Portraits

Your bridal attire deserves its moment in the spotlight. Schedule a session with Pre Wedding Studios Hyderabad to capture stunning portraits of the bride in her wedding gown.

Groom's Swagger

Don't forget the groom! His confidence and charm deserve their own set of photos. Showcase his style and personality in the best light possible.

The Ring Exchange

The symbolic exchange of rings is a pivotal moment. Ensure your photographer captures the gleam of the rings and the affection in your eyes.

Dance Floor Delight

Let loose and dance the night away with your guests. Candid shots on the dance floor are always a hit. Pre Wedding Studios Hyderabad knows how to capture the energy and excitement.

Family Portraits

Gather your families for memorable group shots. These photographs will be cherished for generations to come.

Sunset Silhouettes

Hyderabad offers stunning sunsets. Make the most of this natural beauty with romantic sunset silhouettes.

Floral Details

Don't overlook the intricate floral arrangements. Close-ups of the bouquet and floral decor add elegance to your album.

Cake Cutting

Cutting the wedding cake is a delightful tradition. Capture the joy on your faces as you share the first slice.

Walk Down the Aisle

Your walk down the aisle is a fairy tale moment. Ensure it's documented with grace and style.

Guest Reactions

The reactions of your guests during the ceremony are priceless. From tears to smiles, these candid expressions are a treasure.

The Departure

As you bid farewell to your loved ones, capture the bittersweet emotions of departure.

Fireworks Finale

End your wedding on a high note with a dazzling fireworks display. These shots will leave a lasting impression.

Bridal Details

Your attire is full of intricate details. Ensure your photographer captures the lace, embroidery, and jewelry that make you shine.

The First Dance

The first dance as a married couple is a cherished moment. Let your photographer freeze this beautiful moment in time.

Venue Beauty

Hyderabad offers stunning venues. Showcase the architecture and natural beauty in your photos.

Candid Guest Shots

Guests play a vital role in your wedding. Candid shots of them enjoying the festivities add a personal touch.

Family Blessings

Seek blessings from your elders and capture their heartfelt blessings in photographs.

Special Moments

Every wedding has unique moments. Let your photographer capture these surprises and unexpected joys.

Emotion-Filled Shots

Weddings are emotional roller coasters. Ensure your photographer captures the highs and lows with sensitivity.

Fun with Friends

Your friends are there to celebrate with you. Capture the fun and camaraderie with playful shots.

Conclusion

Your wedding day is a celebration of love, and your photos should reflect that. By including these essential shots in your wedding photo shoot in Hyderabad, you'll create a cherished album that tells the story of your special day. Remember, hiring experts like Pre Wedding Studios Hyderabad can make all the difference in capturing these moments beautifully.

[reasonsforhope]

"In short: Thailand's Senate has approved a bill legalising same sex marriage in the South-East Asian country.

It will afford same-sex couples practical benefits such as being able to have children through IVF and make emergency medical decisions for their spouse.

What's next? The first weddings may take place later this year, 120 days after the law is announced in the Royal Gazette.

Thailand has become the first nation in South-East Asia to legalise same sex marriage, with the country's Senate approving the landmark bill this afternoon.

The legislation was expected to pass after it cleared the country's House of Representatives in a near-unanimous vote in March.

Despite Thailand's bustling gay bars and prominent transgender community making it a mecca for LGBTQ+ tourists, until now local same-sex couples there have been unable to marry.

The law will take effect 120 days after its announcement in the Royal Gazette, so the first same sex weddings may take place later this year.

Couples who have been waiting years have hailed the move as a historic moment that will afford them rights only reserved for spouses.

A Lifechanging Law

Photos of Anticha and Worawan [including the article picture], dressed in floor-length white gowns and trailed by rainbow flags, getting married at Bangkok's first Pride Festival two years ago went viral, but they are still not legally married.

Now they will be able to change that, and Anticha Sangchai is elated.

"This will change my life and change many Thai people's lives, especially in the LGBT community," she said.

"It is a historical moment and I really want to join with my community to celebrate this moment.

"I want to send a message to the world that Thailand has changed. Even though there are still many issues, this is a big step for us." ...

There were an estimated 3.7 million LGBT people in Thailand in 2022, according to LGBT Capital, a private company which models economic data pertaining to the community around the world.

For the young couple from Bangkok, being able to marry also has very real practical implications.

If they want to have children through IVF, Ms Sangchai says they will need a marriage certificate first.

"I am quite concerned about the time because we are getting older every day, and the older you get the more difficult it is to have a healthy pregnancy," she said.

"So we've been really wanting this law to pass as soon as possible."

Cabaret performer Jena is excited Thailand's laws are finally catching up with the nation's image...

She too had worried about the practical implications of being unable to marry.

"For example, if myself or my partner had to go to hospital or there was an accident that needs consent for an emergency operation, without a marriage certificate we couldn't sign it," she said.

She now wants the government to move forward with a law to allow transgender people to amend their gender on official documents." ...

An Economic Boost?

Thailand has long been famous for LGBTQ tourism and there are now hopes this new law could allow the country to cash in on the aging members of the community.

Chaiwat Songsiriphan, who runs a health clinic for people in the LGBTQ community, said laws preventing same sex marriage were the last barrier holding the country back from becoming a gay retirement hub.

[Note: They do not just mean for rich westerners; Thailand as a gay retirement hub would probably appeal most to and definitely benefit LGBTQ people from throughout Asia.]

"Thailand has an LGBTQ-friendly environment since Thai culture is quite flexible," he said.

"One of my foreigner friends, a gay friend, told me that when he's in his country he has to pretend to be straight … but when he comes to Bangkok he said you can be as gay as you want.

"When we talk about retirement or a long-term stay for the rest of their lives, what people need is … food, good healthcare services, transportation, homes.

"I think Thailand has it all at a very affordable price."

He said it could help give the country a desperately needed economic boost.

"This will have a lot of benefits for Thailand's economy because when we talk about retirement it's people literally bringing all the money they have earned for the rest of their working lives to spend and invest here," he said.

He said he, like the rest of the community, was thrilled by the news.

"It's not about a privilege, it's just equality," he said.

"We are we also humans, so we should be able to marry the one we love.""

-via ABC Australia, June 18, 2024

[churipu]

SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.

note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33

"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."

nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"

(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.

"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.

half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.

"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.

nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.

what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.

"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."

nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.

(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.

the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."

"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."

nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.

he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).

but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.

"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.

the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.

unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."

(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.

nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"

the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.

nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."

the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.

"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?

nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"

you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."

the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"

you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"

nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"

"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.

"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."

you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"

her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"

and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"

the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"

you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."

"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"

the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.

"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"

and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"

nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.

(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[photographer-phuket-thailand]

Engagement photography at Karon beach Phuket

Engagement photography at Karon beach Phuket

[aloneandforsakenbyfateandbyman]

“From Window” by Masahisa Fukase, a photographer who took photos of his wife leaving their apartment building almost every day (1974)

His then wife, Yoko Wanibe said about the time they spent together (from 1963 till 1976), that there were moments of “suffocating dullness interspersed by violent and near suicidal flashes of excitement."

When Yoko left him in 1976, Fukase began drinking heavily and suffered bouts of debilitating depression. In the immediate months after her departure, he photographed ravens he saw at train stations on his way home to Hokkaido with the same single-minded intensity that he had photographed her.

Yoko left Fukase soon after these pictures were made and cited photography as a barrier that came between them. “In the ten or so years of our marriage,” she wrote in 1973, “he has only seen me through the lens of a camera, never without. And in fact what he saw through the lens was not me, but nothing other than himself.”

Yoko was just the longest in many failed relationships, and after each relationship breakdown, Fukase would experience an existential crisis that questioned his very being. “Taking photographs does not make you a photographer, and living doesn’t make you alive. At the end of the day, who am I, really?” he wrote.

[illubean]

Scenario: “Okay Chrollo I’ve given you enough time. I want a house, a ring, and a baby. You have a week. Meeting adjourned.”

All Chrollo could do was stare wide eyed at you when you sat down in front of him and presented him with a folder. You slid it towards him and offered him nothing but your words before turning around and leaving the kitchen of your apartment.

His brain practically short-circuited when he processed what you had said. He was literally a wanted criminal. The last thing on his mind is settling down at the moment.

So you can imagine his shock when he sees the contents of the manila folder in front of him.

Printed out photos of houses on Zillow, a nursery moodboard, a very very thick packet of potential baby names and last but not least...

a blank marriage certificate.

Where did you even get that!? And what did you say before you left? He had a week!?

Chrollo damn near faints at this. But maybe he can indulge you just this once, as he frantically googled 'jewelry stores near me'.

[propertyofyoutube]

Anything for you Mrs Golbach - EXPLICIT

Summary: it was your's and Sam's wedding day. It had truly been the most magical day so far, and the wedding coordinator tells you take a little break alone before the party begins...

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, bad language, quickie, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of fluff, wedding day woo. Husband sam!

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

"Okay! 3, 2, 1, cheese!" Your mom shouted as she held up her phone to take a photo of you and all of your bridesmaids. It was roughly halfway through your wedding day. You had officially married the love of your life, already drank at least half a bottle of wine, taken a gizillion photos, smiled none stop and had to redo your makeup 3 or more times from the happy tears.

You all cheered as mom took many photos, switching your poses every few seconds, you felt nothing but happiness as you stood surrounded by your best friends on the most magical day of your life. "Absolutely gorgeous!" Your mom shouted as you all laughed and cheered.

"I can't believe you're actually married!" Your maid of honour said as she shook your shoulders.

"I know right! Look at me!" You laughed as you held up your hand showing the 2 most important rings on your finger. "I'm a wife!"

All the girls laughed, "I'm just glad Sam didn't turn up in an XPLR tracksuit!" Your friend said as everyone laughed even louder.

"Don't!" You sighed, "I told Colby, do not let him talk about ghosts during his speech, and thankfully, Colby made sure the speech was absolutely amazing!" You said as you sipped your wine.

"I cried the whole way through it." Your maid of honour said as she wiped under her eye remembering the loving words Sam had said about his new wife.

"Me too..." you smiled, you grabbed your best friend's hand, "it has honestly been everything I've ever dreamed of."

Suddenly you felt a hand slowly touch your back as it snaked around your waist, "Mrs Golbach?" Sam's voice travelled down your ear as you turned your head to his handsome face smiling at you. All your friends squealed with excitement as they heard him call you that.

"Husband?" You replied with a smirk.

Sam's hand suddenly moved to the top of your arm as he slowly slide it down to gently grip your hand, lifting it to his lips. "Please may I steal my beautiful wife for a moment?" He said with a smile to all your girls.

"Of course!" Your maid of honour said quickly as the girls hurried away back to the bar.

You smiled watching as they scurried away, "what can I do for you Mr Golbach?" You smirked bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck.

His hands rested against your back as he pulled you close to him, "firstly, you can kiss your husband, Mrs Golbach." Sam said with a smirk as he leaned down connecting your lips in a soft sweet kiss. As he pulled away he smiled down at you. "And secondly, Lauren the wedding coordinator has said we should, 'take this time to soak in our marriage' before the party begins..." he said with just the warmest grin on his face.

"Oh really?" You said with a smirk as you admired his features. You've wanted nothing more than to rip this tux off him all day.

Sam rolled his eyes with a smile, "we only have 10 minutes before the party starts..." you pouted your lips in a face sad expression as he laughed, "you have another dress to put on, and I really want to watch you take this off... slowly... and then put your other dress on, even slower." He said as he bit his lip nodding his head.

You laughed as you downed the rest of your wine, "let's go then, baby." You smiled as you pulled him by the hand towards a near by take, carefully placing your glass down.

"Congratulations y/n and Sam!" A relative shouted as you both smiled and waved.

"Thank you so much!" You both said in unison as you continued over to the front desk of the manor. After a couple of kind words exchanged by the receptionist, she handed you the key to the honeymoon suite.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

As you walked into the beautifully decorated, Victorian style Manor House, master bedroom, the four poster bed instantly caught your eye. "Oh wow..." you gasped as you wondered around, your fingers dancing across the old furniture. After a moment you turned around to look at Sam as he leaned against the wall, admiring how you moved with his bow tie already hanging loosely around his neck.

You smirked before moving to the middle of the room, Turning your back to Sam, "do you mind baby?" You said as you signalled the back of your dress.

"Of course." He said softly as he took a deep breath. He walked towards you slowly, his eyes travelling up and down your body. He loved how your wedding dress showed your figure perfectly. As he reached you, he lifted his hands to your lower back where the top of the dress sat, suddenly, his face fell confused. "Uh..." he chuckled, "how do I do this baby?"

You laughed with him before you spoke, "it's just a zip babe! The buttons are for show! Move the fabric over!" You couldn't help but giggle as Sam sighed.

"Women and their deceiving buttons..." he joked as he found the top of the zip, his fingers gripping it tightly. He slowly began to pull the zip down your back, the loosening of the fabric sending goosebumps over your entire body. You breathed heavily, wishing you had more time to be pounded by your new husband. The zip sam held slowly revealed the gorgeous white Lacey underwear, that sat comfortably against your ass cheeks. "Fuck..." Sam gasped as he felt his dick began to grow, his trousers tightening at the sight. You felt a smirk spreading across your face as you slowly slide your arms out of the dress, allowing it to fall hitting the floor. You stood there in nothing but the panties that were making Sam's mouth water.

You heard as Sam swallowed hard and you turned to face him slowly. Sam's eyes fell wide as your bare breasts came into view. Even after all this time, your absolute beauty never fails to amaze him. Both of you stood for a moment, your breathing caught in your throat as your jaws fell slack, "we better get changed." You said reluctantly, but your stare said otherwise.

Sam didn't say anything, you knew that look in his eyes, that was his 'I'm going to fill you up' look.

"We can't be late baby..." you said seductively with a smirk, as you subtly lifted your hand brushing it against his rock hard bulge. You watched Sam twitched from your touch, his breath hitched.

"Fuck it." Sam's voice was low as he spoke and he quickly grabbed your face with both hands, pulling you tightly into a heated, passionate kiss. As tongues fought for dominance your hands moved to slip off his suit jacket, tossing it aside. You both giggled as your hands tickled his torso, your fingers making their way down one button at a time. Before you could move it off his arms, Sam quickly lifted you off the ground as your legs wrapped around his waist. His hands squeezed your ass cheeks as you laughed. "Fuck baby, we gotta make this quick." He said as he tossed you onto the bed.

You bit your lip and nodded your head as Sam quickly moved to hover above you, reconnecting your lips again. The kisses were quick but filled with passion and desperation for one another. Sam moved as his head kissed from your lips, along your jaw, down your neck and back up to your lips again as a string of moans left your throat.

He suddenly lifted himself off you as he grabbed your laced panties, pulling them down fast as your legs quickly escaped them. Sam smirked down at you as he repositioned himself, his hands and lips exploring your whole body, "Sam... please." You squirmed beneath him.

Sam chuckled as he reached down, quickly undoing his trousers, not even bothering to take them off. He pulled them down slightly, just enough for him to pull his cock out. He teased your entrance as you both let out moans, "anything for you, Mrs Golbach." Sam said as he suddenly pushed himself inside of you. Your body arching off the bed as you both moaned out simultaneously. "Fuck..." Sam groaned lowly.

"Fuck baby." You moaned as your head threw back, Sam instantly hitting you with fast and hard thrusts. Sam's hands both reached for yours as he pulled your arms up and over your head, holding them in place by your wrists. His lips connected to yours as you both swallowed each other's moans.

"What's your name baby?" Sam smirked as he breathed heavily.

"Y/n..." you moaned out.

Sam picked up his pace, "no baby, what's your full name?" Sam said deeply as you felt that familiar knot forming in your stomach.

"Fuck- fuck...." You moaned loudly as your orgasm was inches away, your walls clenching around Sam's dick making him groan even deeper. "Y/n... go- Golbach!" You cried out.

"Fuck!" Sam began to pound into you as his dick began to twitch, "you're mine... forever." His voice was low and hoarse as he spoke. Your legs began to shake, "cum for your husband, baby." Sam demanded as your body exploded into ecstasy.

"Fuck, Sam!" You cried out as you came, your legs shaking uncontrollably as your entire body was filled with pleasure.

"Fuck yeah..." Sam groaned as he pounded harder a couple more times before a string of expletives left his mouth, his hot cum filling you up as he pushed himself as deep as he could into you.

You both breathed heavily as he lowly pulled out of you. You opened your eyes are you looked up at him, nothing but love in both of your hearts. "I love you." Sam said, his breath shaken.

You pulled his head down to kiss him softly, "I love you more." You whispered against his lips as you felt his lips turn into a loving smile.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You and Sam ran down the stairs, hand in hand and stood outside a huge set of wooden double doors. He quickly pulled you in one last time to kiss you deeply. As he pulled back he gave you a warm smile, "you ready baby?"

You giggled before fixing his hair slightly, "I'm more than ready."

Just as you replied you heard the echoing from the speakers as the DJ excitedly announced, "ladies and gentleman, I'm so happy to introduce, your bride & groom, the newly married couple, Mr & Mrs Golbach!"

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Authors note: I hope you liked this one! I thought it was so cute! My requests are open so let me know what you'd like to see! Xx

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 10/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: coming to terms with the feeling you harbor for him, a feeling you dare not admit even to yourself. After all, he could never feel the same way about you, right? word count. 3.6k cw. marriage pact au, mature content, mild smut, fluff, angst a/n. moree fluffs and... here comes the storm... :(

Masterlist

In the morning, you wake up to find Kiyoomi’s side of the bed empty. He’s already awake. You check your phone and see that it’s still 7 in the morning. Oh! Kiyoomi’s family is here. You get on your feet immediately, and as soon as you open the door, you're greeted by the sight of Granny and Kiyoomi’s dad having a conversation on the couch. You look around for Kiyoomi and see him sweeping near the balcony.

“Good morning,” you greet Kiyoomi’s dad and Granny as they greet you back.

You head to the kitchen and find Kiyoomi’s mom rummaging through the fridge. “Hey… mom,” you say, the word feeling a bit strange on your tongue, but you remember her telling you to call her mom.

“Oh, hey darling. I’m just looking for some ingredients to make breakfast,” she replies with a warm smile.

“Do you want pancakes? Because I already have the batter. It’s ready to be cooked.”

“That sounds good, darling. Let me just cook those,” she says.

You take out the airtight container with the batter inside and place it on the kitchen island. Kiyoomi’s mom opens it and starts scooping the batter onto the pan. While she’s cooking, you prepare the fruit for the pancake toppings. You put strawberries, blueberries, and chopped bananas in bowls so everyone can choose their own toppings. Then, you also take out butter and honey.

You glance over at Kiyoomi’s mom, who has finished making a stack of pancakes. She asks you to have some. You call everyone to the kitchen, and soon, everyone is seated in the living room, enjoying the breakfast together.

After eating, Kiyoomi’s mom suddenly announces that she brought something special from her house. “Here! I brought this photo album,” she says, waving the big photo album with a grin. “I think it would be cute if you both have this,” she adds. “Want to take a look?”

You nod enthusiastically as his mom sits on your left side. Kiyoomi, sitting on your right side, groans, “Mom, please. Not those pictures.” You lightly swat Kiyoomi’s thigh, trying to suppress a smile.

Kiyoomi’s mom starts to go through the photo album, showing a baby picture of Kiyoomi. You can’t help but coo at the picture, which shows him with doe eyes, chubby cheeks, and his two signature moles on his forehead. Some of the photos show him with his older siblings, with him being the smallest of the three. “Aw! Look at you! You used to be so small,” you say as he leans in to see the picture. He scoffs, as you pinch his cheek.

Granny, peeking from behind the couch, says cheekily, “You’d be happy to have a tiny version of both of you, I assure you.” You smile and look at Kiyoomi, noticing his ears reddening. Since when does he blush?! You laugh at him and cling to his arm, leaning on his shoulder. 

As you continue to flip through the pages, you see pictures of him in middle school, already looking taller. Then, there are high school pictures, which include some of you, him, and Komori. “You look the same,” Kiyoomi remarks, making you squint at him playfully.

“Is it a compliment?” you ask.

“It is,” he says so matter-of-factly, making you bite your lip, trying to contain yourself from blushing.

Kiyoomi’s mom points to another picture. “Here, this is when you came to the house to bake with me.” In the picture, your hands were covered in flour as Kiyoomi helped you put on an apron. You recall forgetting to wear it but deciding to put it on to avoid dirtying your shirt. You smile at the memory.

Kiyoomi’s mom giggles and points at another photo. “Here is one of your study sessions.” The picture shows tired faces of you and Kiyoomi, with Komori’s back facing the camera. 

“This is after you fell from the bike, right?” you ask.

Kiyoomi groans, “Please don’t remind me,” but you can see him smiling slightly, remembering the funny incident. You remember he was speed pedaling his bike in front of you, then stood and lifted his front wheel to ascend the next pavement to avoid a bump. However, the wheel unexpectedly came off its socket, the fork hit the ground, and he went flying a few meters onto the asphalt. It was super funny, and you were exploding with laughter, but you tried to calm yourself because you felt so bad for him. Thankfully, he was only left with minor scars. The next day was an exam, so you and Komori quickly treated him at his house and had a study session afterward.

“Sorry. It was funny!” you say, laying your hand on the side of his face. He frowns, but it literally looks like a pout, and you can’t help but feel endeared. So, you lean in and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. You notice him trying to fight his smile, which only makes you snicker.

After you go through the photo album, Kiyoomi places it on the shelf in the living room. You notice a tightness in your chest, feeling a wave of nostalgia for your life with Kiyoomi. You’re so glad that he has stayed close to you even after you both graduated from high school, despite you both having a very different career path which makes both of your worlds never collide. Also, despite his reserved personality, he still consistently shows efforts to be there for you. You always thought he would be a friend you met occasionally and that he might forget you as time passed. But here you are, married. Is this how the universe intends to keep you both close? You really don’t know.

After this realization, you can’t help but feel incredibly sentimental. You find yourself clinging to Kiyoomi's side, unable to pull away. You feel a bit guilty for being so clingy, but his reciprocation reassures you. When everyone decides to take a nap, you and Kiyoomi stay lounging on the couch. You keep asking him trivial questions, just to keep him close, and he answers each one with a soft tone. He pulls you by the waist, hugging you from behind as you both sit and talk. He kisses your shoulder occasionally, sending shivers down your spine. Despite feeling sleepy, you both continue to chat until you eventually drift off together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms.

When you open your eyes, you see Kiyoomi’s parents and granny giggling in front of you. You find yourself still on the couch, with Kiyoomi starting to wake up behind you. “Oh dear, these lovebirds,” Granny says, still laughing. 

Kiyoomi’s mom smiles warmly. “We want to take a stroll around the town and explore some culinary delights. Wanna join?”

You nod eagerly. “Sure! Kiyoomi and I can recommend some great places!” you say as you get up, followed by Kiyoomi.

The day goes by with all of you strolling around the park and eating at a nearby restaurant. When the sun starts to set, you all take a seat back at the park to watch it. Kiyoomi’s mom buys some ice cream for everyone except Granny. Honestly, you’re surprised by how much walking Granny can manage. 

Kiyoomi’s mom explains, “She likes to walk a lot. She’s been doing it since she was young.”

You nod, understanding. That’s her secret to staying fit!

As you all sit and enjoy the sunset, you feel a deep sense of contentment. Surrounded by Kiyoomi’s family, sharing laughter and stories, you realize how much these moments mean to you. Kiyoomi’s hand finds yours, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. You look at him and smile.

The moment everyone arrives at the apartment, they quickly change into more comfortable clothes. The atmosphere is relaxed as everyone lounges on the couch, winding down with takeaway Thai food for dinner. Kiyoomi excuses himself early, mentioning he needs rest for his match tomorrow. His match is scheduled for 1 pm, while Komori also coincidentally has a match at 4 pm, so everyone plans to watch both.

You engage in a pleasant chat with Kiyoomi’s family until everyone starts to feel sleepy and decides to head to bed. Entering Kiyoomi’s room, you find the light already dimmed and Kiyoomi asleep. You lie on your side of the bed, slipping under the blanket. As you begin to drift off, you feel Kiyoomi rolls from his side of bed to yours, and wraps you in his arms. He always feels so warm. You turn your back to him and make yourself comfortable. His steady breath from behind you evokes a sense of warmth that makes you fall asleep even faster than usual.

In the morning, everyone starts getting ready. You and Kiyoomi’s mom make breakfast together, eat, and then you take a shower. The enthusiasm of Kiyoomi’s family to attend his match is evident, as they get ready quickly. Seeing Kiyoomi this morning, you're reminded of the fact that you both have been cuddling yesterday. The nap and last night’s sleep. You don’t know what happened between the both of you, but you can’t say you’re not happy with the change. It is a welcomed change.

At the stadium, you meet Komori and Mia. Kiyoomi heads off to practice and warm up with his team while you and the others take seats on the bleachers. You also run into Aiko, who joins you, and all of you start to engage in a small talk.

Before the match starts, you visit the team’s locker room to wish them luck. Today, Kiyoomi has more visitors than usual, and he looks a bit flustered by his family’s enthusiasm. You laugh and give him a hug before he lines up and steps onto the court.

MSBY is back in top form, securing a landslide victory after last week's tough loss. You cheer loudly, thrilled by the win and the joy on Kiyoomi’s family’s faces. Kiyoomi’s mom even scolds Granny to tone down her cheering a bit, earning laughter from others.

Afterward, you stay to watch Komori’s match with Kiyoomi, who has showered and changed, and his family. You're excited to see Komori in action again, especially after his match with Kiyoomi a few weeks ago.

A few minutes into the match, you find yourself getting really into it. You're happy to have Kiyoomi beside you to explain some tricks and terms in volleyball. 

"Damn! Mori is on fire," you exclaim.

Kiyoomi chuckles. "Yes, he is."

"Who's that number 7?" you ask, pointing at the player. Kiyoomi's gaze follows your finger.

"Oh, him?" Kiyoomi replies. You nod. "That's Suna Rintarō. He's the middle blocker."

You unknowingly observe the middle blocker with your mouth agape, amazed by his quick reflexes to block the opposing team's spike.

"What?" Kiyoomi asks, noticing your expression.

You snap your head to him at his bitter tone. "He's good," you say.

Kiyoomi scoffs. "Yeah. I was able to cut through his block anyway."

You raise your eyebrows at him. Okay. Is he… being jealous?! You laugh at his reaction. He keeps his stare ahead. Clinging to his arm, you say, "Of course, you're even better, Omi." You laugh again, not believing he could act like this.

After the match finishes, you part ways with Komori and head back home. As you arrive, Kiyoomi’s family starts to pack up to return to their home. You feel a pang of sadness as they wave goodbye, but you promise to visit them during the holiday season.

You start to move your belongings from Kiyoomi’s room to yours, feeling an unknown emotion stirring. But said emotion is most likely a negative one. Is it sadness? Why, though?

You're about to head to your room after dinner with Kiyoomi when you hear him call your name. You turn around. "Yeah?" 

He steps toward you and holds you by the waist, closing the distance between you. "I just–" he brings your hand to his cheek and kisses it, "I want to appreciate how wonderfully you’ve been hosting my family," he says earnestly.

You're taken aback by his affectionate words. He’s not usually this expressive. You smile at him. "It’s my pleasure, too, you know?" you reply, pulling him by the collar and tiptoeing your way to kiss him.

He lifts you up and carries you to his room. His lips trail from yours, moving downward as he undresses you. You feel weak at the knees under his ministrations, each touch lingering in a way you've never felt before. He worships every inch of your body with his hands and lips, kissing you from your calf to your core while mumbling praises. You can't find the strength to move a single muscle; he makes you that weak.

The way his eyes burn into yours and roam over your body doesn't make you feel exposed. Instead, it brings a profound sense of security and comfort. It makes you feel like you can entrust your whole life to him. When you kiss, you don’t want to stop. You just want him to be as close as possible to you.

As he thrusts into you, he looks dazzlingly handsome. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his hair framing his face so perfectly. He stares at you with such adoration, you can almost describe the feeling with a word. It teeters on the tip of your tongue. It can’t be. It can’t be, right? 

His hands entwine with yours, fitting perfectly. You feel a surge of that emotion so strong that it brings you to tears. And as you come undone with him, you let those tears flow, overwhelmed by the intensity of it. He hugs you tightly, kissing your teary eyes and gazing at you longingly while he caresses your hair.

As you start to calm down after your high, you begin to get up.

"Stay," Kiyoomi says, holding you by the waist. You always left. He always left. This is new. But honestly, you can’t find it in yourself to part ways with him either. It’s just your habit, to leave the room after you both had sex. You kiss him and nod. "Okay. I’ll just clean myself and bring my pillow here." He smiles contentedly at you.

When you return, he's still awake, watching you as you enter the room. You place your pillow beside him and slip under the blanket. Turning to face him, you see he’s already looking at you. He shortens the distance between you, just a breath away, and looks deeply into your eyes. Your face burns with shyness under his intense gaze. He smiles, caressing the side of your head, "You’re so beautiful," he says, kissing your forehead.

That night, you finally understand what it means to "sleep like a baby."

After that eventful night, you naturally become even closer to Kiyoomi. The wall that once kept you apart has crumbled away. Ironically, you've been sleeping in his bedroom for four nights in a row, despite having just moved all your belongings back to your own room.

At the office today, you receive a message from Kiyoomi. He informs you that he'll be home late and you should have dinner without him. You smile and reply, ‘Okay. Don’t be too late♡’.

Today is Thursday, and you're happy because tomorrow Tami is coming to town. She has some work to do in the morning, but nothing after that, so you both agree to catch up and have a night out together. She will also attend Kiyoomi’s match on Saturday. Despite your insistence that she stay in your apartment, she declined, saying she wants to enjoy staying in a hotel and ordering room service. You laugh at that.

When you get home after work, you quickly unwind, change your clothes, and make yourself dinner. However, after cooking, you realize you've made way too much food for just yourself. You're too used to making dinner for both of you.

After eating, you feel bored and alone in the house. You huff, glancing at the kitchen counter where the leftover food sits. A light bulb goes off in your head. Why not bring dinner to his practice?

You quickly pack the food and send him a few messages, letting him know you're coming to his practice. You know where he always trains, and maybe you could meet Fumi and have a chat with her. You’re way too bored to stay home alone.

You order an online taxi, checking your phone and noticing that Kiyoomi hasn’t replied to your texts. He's probably too busy to check his phone anyway.

You arrive at the gym where Kiyoomi practices every day. As you walk inside, the sounds of players practicing fill the air. You consider taking a seat in the bleachers but decide to go to the restroom first. While washing your hands, a very beautiful woman enters the room and starts washing her hands beside you. You notice that she keeps glancing at you through the reflection in the mirror. When you catch her eyes, you smile politely at her.

Just as you're about to leave, she speaks up. "You’re Omi’s wife, right?"

You’re surprised by her use of his nickname. She must be close to him. Turning around, you see her with an unreadable expression that makes you uncomfortable. Trying to remain polite, you reply, "Um, yeah." Your answer is met with a snicker. You raise your eyebrows at that.

"Sorry, do I know you?" you ask, genuinely curious.

"No, and it’s better if you don’t," she says, walking past you. Just before exiting the room, she gives you a final look. "It’s good that he decided to wife up someone. But, you know what? One woman isn’t enough for someone like him."

You’re left speechless, mouth agape. What the actual fuck? First of all, who is she? You're not asking this in a condescending way; you’re genuinely curious. She calls him Omi and the way she acts, she seems to hate you. Secondly, what in the world? You're flabbergasted at encountering a real-life mean girl. You thought the last time you'd see behavior like that was in middle school or something. You're almost 30 for god sake, and she looks around your age too. Seriously, you're shocked to the core.

Lastly, her final sentence stings. It feels like a slap, waking you from a daydream. The last few days have felt like a hallucination. Did you really believe that Kiyoomi could feel that way towards you? Were you being too naive?

You shake yourself from your thoughts, remembering why you came here in the first place: the dinner. You walk out of the restroom and coincidentally bump into Fumi.

"Oh, hey! I’m surprised to see you here! You want to see Sakusa-san?" she asks cheerily.

Still a bit distracted, you offer your best smile and nod at her. She looks at your hand and sees the food box you brought.

"Aw! You brought him dinner! Let’s see if he’s taking a break or not." She takes your hand and leads you to the bleachers to watch him on the court from there.

It turns out he is indeed taking a break, sitting on the bench. You’re about to come down from the bleachers to meet him when you see the woman you met in the restroom earlier approaching him. She sits beside Kiyoomi on the bench while he’s drinking water, and you notice they’re having a conversation. She wears a black tank top that hugs her curves perfectly, with a low neckline showing her cleavage. She's really beautiful, you think, feeling a wave of insecurity within you. You also notice that they’re sitting very close to each other.

You’ve always known Kiyoomi to be very particular about his personal space, usually keeping a distance from people, especially if he doesn’t know them well. But with the way she leans into him and how he seems unbothered, you can tell they are close. Then you see her put her hand on Kiyoomi’s thigh, making you walk away from where you’re sitting. Your heartbeat increases, and an emotion stirs inside you.

You didn’t realize that Fumi had been watching the whole ordeal and following you until she says, “Uh, yeah, I guess you already know her.”

You’re confused. “What?”

Fumi looks surprised. “Hasn’t Sakusa-san told you?”

You look away from her. “Uh, no.”

"I really don’t want to start anything between you," Fumi continues. "But now that you’ve seen it…"

Fumi hesitates before adding, “Um, they used to hook up. For… quite some time. Everyone practically knows it ‘cause she can’t keep her mouth shut. She’s part of our social media team.” She clears her throat.

You widen your eyes at that. Oh, right. What did you expect? He always attracts a lot of people. There’s no way he didn’t attract anyone in his workplace. Can you even blame him? He literally looks like that.

You bite your lip, feeling your chest tighten. Why the hell are you so frustrated? This is one of the things you’ve agreed to when you signed up for this. Why would this marriage stop him from getting any girl he wants? You’re not exclusive, right? Feeling the pitying stare from Fumi, you wave your hand dismissively and laugh.

"It’s okay. Everyone has their past, right?"

"The thing is," Fumi continues, "she still tries to seduce him or whatever. I mean, you saw how she put her hand on him!"

Fumi keeps talking about how the woman continues her advances despite knowing about his marriage. You feel overwhelmed by what you just saw, the information Fumi keeps giving you and your mind starts making up scenarios of something you hope is not true. You want to tell her that you’re not involved romantically like that, but of course, you can’t. And you’re not sure you can even speak on your behalf. Because, at least on your part, you do feel something nowadays. You’re fucked up. You really don’t know what to do.

Taglist: @wolffmaiden , @fiannee , @nightlydream , @choizzn , @peachyaeger @crxm-dollx , @marisabel14 , @yunskook

[reetu24]

Marriage Photos near me

Capture the magic of your union with marriage photos near you. Whether in bustling cityscapes or serene landscapes, skilled photographers immortalize your love story with artistry and precision. With an eye for emotion and beauty, they create timeless memories that resonate for a lifetime, just a heartbeat away.

[chvnnie]

here. take this dad chan.

week seven

Something feels…off.

The bathroom is oddly dim. A light flickers above the mirror, dull enough that it doesn’t bother you but definitely noticeable. Your legs are bouncing, belt buckle blending in with the cheers of the crowd. Five minutes until they go out. Ninety seconds until you know.

Is this something that can wait until the end of the show?

Tucking the evidence in your jacket pocket, you exit the bathroom. Into the nearly empty waiting room — only your husband and Changbin left behind. He’s fixing his friend’s ear piece, Chan’s head tilted to the left to give him better access.

“Hey!” He says with a smile when he sees you, reaching out. His hands are a little shaky; they always are when they’re about to preform. The gold wedding band catches the light, sparkling under it.

It reassures you. This is what is supposed to happen right? First comes love, then comes marriage.

Some would say step three is way overdue.

You grab his hands, moving into his body to give him the hug he desires. Chan’s arms are firm around your body, peppering kisses along the side of your face—

“Stop moving.”

Chan smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Bin.” He moves his head back into position. “How are you feeling, love? You still look a little pale.”

Now would be a good time to tell him. Your gut is screaming to do it now, to get it over with before the word vomit comes out like every other meal you’ve had lately. Do it. Do it before he walks away, tell him now—

“There we go.” The younger man claps your husband’s shoulders, giving him a light shake before stepping away. “All ready?”

“Yeah, give me a second.” His hands fall to your waist, pulling you in for a proper hug now that he’s not Changbin’s doll. You melt into his touch, the jewels from his outfit rubbing against your skin. It feels nice.

You almost feel guilty, the weight of everything about to crush you.

“Hey.” Chan says softly, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back. His expression is so soft, so gentle. The man you’re madly in love with looking at you with beautiful stars. The trust unending in his dark eyes. “Talk to me. What’s up?”

Now. Now tell him now. Tell him before he’s busy for three hours, unreachable as you stew in your new reality. Now. Tell him now—

“Nothing.” You say with a smile, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “I’m okay.”

If he doesn’t believe you, you can’t really tell. The adrenaline of the show running through him already, his mind in a million different places.

“Come help me change at the ment?”

This really isn’t something that can wait.

“Yeah, of course.”

But for now, it will have to be.

week ten

In. Out. In. Out.

God, pregnancy cramps are worse than period cramps. Somehow.

You’re curled in the bed, knees pushed up and a hand cradling your stomach. There’s no bump yet, no outward signs yet. Just a bunch of weird pains and feelings that you don’t fully understand. It’s normal, you’re told by your doctor. You’ll get used to it.

That doesn’t make it that fun, though.

Chan said he would be home by now. There’s a comeback on the horizon, so it’s no surprise he was in the studio late tonight. But he promised you when he left that he would be home before you went to bed.

You’ve been a little extra needy lately. Who would have figured?

It’s hard to be upset with him. It’s not like he knows yet — when have you had the time to tell him? Between tours and a comeback and all the other million things he does daily, you haven’t had the chance to bring it up. Besides, it’s not like you’ve told anyone other than your doctor yet. So it’s not like you’re hiding anything from him.

Right?

Your phone buzzes near your head, a photo from your honeymoon lighting up the screen. Chan looked so sweet that day; his skin sun-kissed, curls laced with seawater, making them even more prominent. It’s your favorite picture ever of him. You’ve never seen him happier.

“Hey.” You say groggily into the phone. You tap the speaker button, not bothering to bring it to your ear.

“Hi, my love.” He singsongs into the phone. “I’m sorry it’s late, but I’m getting ready to wrap things up here.”

“It’s okay. When will you be home?”

“Hmm, an hour? Maybe?”

There’s so many things happening in your body. In your mind. And sixty minutes feels like an impossible entirety. Three, two, one and the tears are flowing in earnest. You take a shaky breath, letting the sob that’s been building all day release. You can’t do that, you can’t wait a single second longer.

You need Chan like you need to breathe.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Your husband sounds so concerned. It’s easy to picture his scrunched face, the little pout of confusion from your sudden outburst. “Why are you—“

“Come home now.” You sob in the phone. “I can’t, Chan, I c-can’t—“

“Okay. Okay, I’m leaving now.” The door slamming in the background proves it. “Is there anything you need—“

“No.” You shake your head, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over your hands. “J-just need you.”

“I’m coming, love. I promise.”

You pull his pillow into your body, burying your nose into the center of it. He washed his hair before bed last night; the shampoo is still heavy on the silk cover.

In. Out. In. Out. Breathe in smell of oak, finding peace in knowing your comfort will be home soon.

Light pours into the dark room, your husband hurrying over to the bed. You’re facing the edge, still hidden in the pillow though your tears have stopped. Chan crouches by your head, warm fingers peeling your colds open.

“Hi, baby.” He says softly, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m home.”

You peek out from behind the pillow, eyes burning red. Oh, the guilt is painted bright red on his face. He must have ran out of the company building. Sped through the city. Did he even turn the car off before he leaped out of it? Shut the front door?

Chan didn’t stop until he was in front of you. You need him? He’s always right here.

“I’m sorry I’m home so late.” He apologizes, pulling the pillow down a little more. Wanting to see you better. “I know you weren’t—“

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth is open, the words he was going to speak lost in the air. He blinks, head shaking slightly as the weight of your words hit him hard. You’re surprised his balance wasn’t lost. “You—“ his hands loosen their grip a bit, shock making his body run cold. “There’s—you—wait—“

Your lip is wobbling, new tears stinging your eyes. All you can do is nod. Over and over, confirming the question he’s unable to ask.

“You.” He gasps, tears now rolling down his face. A bright smile breaks out, a little laugh sneaking out. “You!”

Chan climbs onto the bed and grabs you, pulling you into his body tightly. Back and forth he rocks you, laughing into your shoulder. It’s unbelievable, exciting, terrifying. All the emotions you were feeling now reflected in your person, who can’t seem to start crying.

“Oh my god.” He says, pulling his head out of your shoulder. His hands cup your face, beaming so brightly at you, you might go blind.

A beanie covers his curls, though a few peek through. The gold earrings catch in the light of the television, though nothing could shine as brightly as his smile. His cheeks must be hurting.

Never mind. This is the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

“How far along are you?” Chan asks when he can finally form a sentence, the words coming back to him.

“Ten weeks.” You say, a hand mindlessly going to your stomach. “So not very far.”

He nods, his own hand following. Together, your hands lace over the nonexistent bump. “How big is that?”

It’s such a Chan question, you can’t help but giggle. “The size of a prune.”

“So small.” He mumbles, looking down between your bodies. “What foods have prunes in them?”

You blink. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this was the last on your list. Actually, it didn’t even make the cut. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Well, we should eat something with prunes to celebrate!”

It’s the cutest thing you think you’ve ever heard, your heart swelling as you cup his face. “Should we make something every week? To correlate with the size?”

The idea hadn’t even crossed his mind. You can see it in the way his eyes widen, lips parting in a bit of shock. “That’s a great idea.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for correcting my niblings without my brother's input?

I had a massive falling out with my family when I was a teenager. I was into goth/edgy/horror culture and true crime before it was accepted by the mainstream, plus my parents were older when they had us and we lived on a farm. They needed my brother and me to keep the farm going, and I decided to pursue college instead. At some point after this they sold/lost their farm, but I do not know when, which fueled their resentment. At their request I did not speak to them until 2021, when my brother found me on Facebook to tell me my parents both died of covid and we held a Zoom funeral. After that he moved several states over to be closer to me so we could work on reconciliation and forgiving me for the farm incident.

So now I (45f) babysit his (44m) two youngest children (10m, 8f) for free, and have been since 2021. Initially he had full custody as his ex wife did not have a job or any job experience when they divorced (before we reconciled) but she now has a full time job so they share custody currently, although she is in our home state, so they decided the kids should go to school there still and spend holidays and summers with him. I am currently an art professor at a local university and for summer semester I only have morning classes and he works afternoons, so it works out.

Last week, his youngest asked me; "OP, how come you lie so much?" Her brother tried to shush her but I asked for clarification. Her brother told her she wasn't supposed to tell me, but she did anyway, and then he also chimed in to confirm. Turns out, whenever I told his kids about any vacations to other countries I took, he said I was making it up to sound important. When I told them I went to medical school, he said I was lying and was a glorified art teacher and only went to community college. I have a serious boyfriend who I have mentioned, although I do not spend time with him while babysitting per the mother's request not to have any adult with her children before meeting them and giving the okay, and so my brother insists I made him up.

I was very hurt, and so I showed them pictures, diplomas, videos, etc proving I was not lying. It is true I got into a community college near our home town on an art scholarship and an FHA grant, but I was able to skip generals due to advanced courses I was taking in high school. I quickly got interested in the medical field and was able to transfer to a medical school on several scholarships and obviously loans. I became a pediatric oncologist and was happy with that until my later thirties. I had kept art as a hobby but eventually realized I wanted to do more with it. I retired from pediatric oncology and then became an art professor five years ago. When I was a doctor, I met my current boyfriend (46m) who is a trauma surgeon. Starting in my late twenties, until covid, I was able to travel throughout the US and even to many foreign countries, sometimes for work, sometimes for vacation. There was no way for him to know this as we were not in contact, but I was very hurt that instead of believing me, he has been telling his kids I'm a liar for the past two years. So yes I did show them the photos and videos specifically because I was hurt.

The following day my brother called me and shouted at me, angry I had deliberately contradicted him. He was angry enough he was shouting at me. He has been dragging this on through text for the past few days. His ex wife also contacted me, asking for my version of events, as apparently their children called her crying about the situation. I told her exactly what I said here. He called me not an hour later screaming. Unbeknownst to me, she has been trying to get full custody of the children and he's convinced that this situation will get his kids taken from him, something he has a fear of due to the fact he has two adult children from a previous marriage who went no contact when they both turned 18. He insists that his ex wife turned them against him, and now he is terrified it will happen again. I was not aware of this until recently, nor did I think this would cause an issue with his custody. It has been very awkward babysitting his kids, as they have been very quiet since this whole thing happened. I don't have kids myself, nor have I been divorced, so I don't understand parenting or divorce etiquette, but I am still very hurt and even angry with him for calling me a liar to his children. Before I make any further decisions regarding an apology, I wanted to get advice as to whether I am the asshole for not bringing it up with him before showing his kids evidence that I did, in fact, do those things, and if so, how I can rectify this appropriately.

What are these acronyms?

[seramilla]

So how would Vaggie react to learning she’s now wrapped up in an arranged marriage? And since this is before she falls…does that mean Charlie is in her emo phase still??

Vaggie is really intimidated at being betrothed to the literal princess of Hell. Of course, she knows who Charlie is -- there isn't a person in Heaven or Hell who doesn't. Some years past, however, in her late teens, Charlotte Morningstar had gained somewhat of a reputation for being a rebel. Before she graduated from Hell High School, the Heaven tabloids used to publish stories of Charlie with a lot of unflattering photos of the young demon, wearing her hair and wardrobe black, reporting that she'd been running around with some wild characters, going to raves and parties, getting in trouble, and generally causing a lot of debauchery, even by Hell's standards.

Charlie has managed to stay out of the public eye for the last few years since she's come of age. Honestly, it's anyone's guess what the princess is really like these days. Only Sera, the High Seraphim of Heaven, and the one primarily responsible for finding Charlie's betrothed, assures Vaggie that the princess is nothing like what the media says. She doesn't do anything so rebellious now, and a lot of those tales were highly exaggerated anyway. Charlie is a perfectly delightful, upstanding citizen, and she assures Vaggie she will love her to pieces!

They ultimately meet at a party. One of those swanky, posh soirées that the nobility of both realms like to hold at the Heaven embassy in Hell. Sera is in attendance with her own wife, Carmilla, and they are off doing their own thing. Vaggie stands there in her white gown and fancy shoes that Sera bought her for the occasion, with her hair tied up in an elaborate bun. She stands next to some other highbrow angels, feeling completely awkward and out of her element. No one is talking to her.

She stays near the punch bowl and snack table, nibbling on things throughout the night to curb her own anxiety. She feels so out of place. She hasn't even been introduced to anyone, let alone Charlie! She's starting to wonder why she's even here at all.

It's not until a very beautiful, very coquettish woman in a red gown comes up to stand beside her, holding out her hand to be shaken. Vaggie looks down at her hand, and then up at her. She's tall. Very tall. Maybe around Carmilla's height, or a little less. The woman looks nervous, and she's blushing slightly, unable to meet Vaggie's gaze directly. Her other hand moves up to push stray locks of hair from falling in her face.

"H-hi!" the woman says, with a genuine smile. "I'm Charlie! You must be Vaggie! Carmilla has told me so much about you. I wanted to come say hello earlier, but I don't get to meet many angels. And you're just so... so pretty. Oh, shit, did I say that out loud? Forgive me! I admit, I was a little intimidated at meeting you. But I didn't want to be rude."

Vaggie looks at Charlie again. The princess is still holding out her hand, now biting her bottom lip in anticipation of Vaggie shaking it. Vaggie does. Charlie's fingers grip hers tightly, manicured red nails grazing lightly against Vaggie's hand. Vaggie maybe shakes Charlie's hand a little too hard, and takes a little too long to pull away.

"Va-vaggie. Yes, my name is Vaggie. Please! The pleasure is all mine, princess, I assure you."

That gets a laugh out of Charlie. She's beaming brightly now, like a light illuminating the otherwise dull illumination of the room. Like a morning star. Now Vaggie is the one blushing, as she listens to her talk about nothing in particular.

Oh, this! This...Vaggie thinks she could get used to this. She could get used to this very well!

[daizymax]

the ways we love | lfl (m)

summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.

But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”

You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”

Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.

You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”

Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.

He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”

He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”

You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”

Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”

“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”

You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”

“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”

You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”

“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.

“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.

He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.

These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.

So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.

“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.

You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”

Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.

---

It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.

Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.

A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.

It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.

This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.

[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]

There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.

[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]

You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.

You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do

[Felix: how come?]

[You: it’s finished]

This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.

“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.

“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.

“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”

More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”

“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”

Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”

Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”

“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”

There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.

“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.

He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”

He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.

---

The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.

“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.

The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.

“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”

“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”

“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”

You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”

“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”

His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.

The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.

“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.

“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.

As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.

“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”

Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”

You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”

“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”

“Ready,” you say.

“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”

---

The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.

Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.

When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.

For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”

“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”

“Twenty what?”

“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.

You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”

“I said I get it already!”

“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”

“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”

“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”

Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”

His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”

He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.

So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”

This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.

That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.

But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.

“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”

Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.

Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.

“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.

By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.

A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.

---

He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.

“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”

You growl playfully but say nothing.

“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”

“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.

Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.

You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”

His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”

The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.

“What about here?” he whispers.

“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.

“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.

His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.

Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.

“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”

“Yes. Yes...”

He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”

You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”

“Come here.”

He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.

When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”

After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.

“Candle,” you answer.

He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.

You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”

“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”

You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”

“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”

You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.

Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.

“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.

You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.

“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”

“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”

Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”

You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”

You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.

“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.

“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”

Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”

The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.

Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.

When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”

“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.

Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”

He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.

“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.

You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.

Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”

You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.

“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”

With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.

You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.

Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.

“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”

You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”

“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.

“I said yes,” you repeat again.

And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”

Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.

“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”

Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.

You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.

You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.

“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”

His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.

“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”

On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.

“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”

You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”

Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.

“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.

“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.

Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”

“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.

He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.

You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.

Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.

Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.

You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”

Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.

“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”

His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.

“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”

“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.

“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”

You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”

“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”

In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.

Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”

He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.

“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”

“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.

Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”

Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”

He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.

“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”

He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”

“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”

Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.

After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.

Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.

“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.

The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.

“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.

“Yes?”

Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”

A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”

“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”

You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.

“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”

You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.

Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.

And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.

---

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copyright © 2024 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

[kimingyuslover]

Photographs

synopsis : wonwoo's heartbreaks.

word count : 1,123

pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader.

genre : angst.

warnings : TEARS, TEARS & TEARS hehehe, wonwoo's kind of an asshole(???), mingyu makes appearances, Seojun & Junseo are twins (your sons), mom!reader.

a.n : ik the poll says fluff, but i can't ignore this idea t__t

“If you don't want this, you can just tell me, but i'm not going to give up on them” said you as you hold your tears from falling to your lap, you know there's consequence for your doing and you're okay with that, you're ready to handle the responsibility.

Although you're still at fault for this, so does wonwoo. this wouldn't happen if both of you were in your right state of mind that night.

You're willing to give anything for this, whereas wonwoo not. Having kids, especially before the marriage, was never on his luck calendar, so you announcing this to him was such a surprise.

“I think,” there's a pregnant pause in his words, but you already promised yourself that what happens today will determine your future.

“I think we should break things up” he finally finishes his line.

You felt like there's a sharp knife running through your chest, your breath felt heavy, and your eyes started to get more wet.

“Okay then, i'll be gone in the morning”

You got up from the couch, heading towards your shared bedroom to take your personal belongings. You packed half of your things yesterday, just in case your nightmare comes true, and tonight, it does.

[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]

Wonwoo woke up from his deep slumber, unaware of anything. The only difference he felt was he's not sleeping in your bedroom, he's sleeping on the couch, which caused his back to be in pain.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw the bedroom empty.

The only thing he saw on your bed was the little note, a note that you wrote days prior.

To my dearest, wonwoo

hi, wonwoo

you'll probably see this when i'm gone. I wrote this long before you knew about them. I don't mind if you don't want them, but I want to keep the babies.

I've already imagined your rejection in my head, and every time it comes, my heart hurts.

I really thought we're endgame, but that's only in my mind, isn't it? When I first saw them, I almost didn't believe it.

Me, too, am scared to be a parent, but we have to pay the price for our happiness, right?

I love you, Jeon wonwoo.

When this note passes to you (i'm hoping it's not) i'll just hope you'll find someone better, who fits into your categories of women, and is not dumb enough to be pregnant with your babies.

sincerely & with love,

your (ex?)girlfriend, y/n

A single tear drops from his right eyes, and the argument from the night before comes to his mind.

His sharp intonation, sarcasm, hurtful words that we swear he would never throw at you, and the b word that he never wants to say to you.

Suddenly, everything became as clear as the sky yesterday.

[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]

“Junseo, Seojun! Next time, wait for Mommy if you want to cross, okay? I'm so worried for both of you!” you said to your sons as they looked at the ground beneath their feet.

Guilty start building up their body, and tears start gathering on their eyes.

“Mommy sorry, I'm sorry, let's go walking again, okay?” you said to them as you put your hand on Seojun's left cheek and the other on Junseo's right cheek.

They nod at you before telling you that they're sorry and won't let it happen again, which caused you to hug them tightly.

The three of you want to go to a museum near your hotel.

There's a new museum that will be opened for the first time for the public to see, and it's a photography museum, there'll be the owner of the museum there too, considering that this is their grand opening.

You circled around the photos with a glass of champagne being served by the waiter there with junseo on your left and seojun on your right.

You feel your knees are stuck on the floor below you. There's a photograph of your last vacation photo with wonwoo, before the announcement, before the night gets messy.

You read the description.

Kim

my greatest, painful love, first and last love

06-06-26 There were 11 days left until my birthday, but I made my greatest mistake and regret.

“Mommy? Why are you looking so sad?” One of the five years old asks you. He can see the way your eyes start to widen in disbelief.

Him and his twins are concerned about you, so Junseo decided to ask you.

Realising you're still with your sons, you wipe your tears that threaten to spill anytime soon.

You smile at them and give them a peck on each forehead, then tell them that you're okay.

Your eyes dart to the next photograph, a silhouette of a woman.

Seojun and Junseo make a silent discussion. You're taken aback when Seojun said

“Isn't this you, Mommy?”

You read the description again.

Kim II

I've found the love of my life in you, my greatest desire.

It's the same.

You remember it, this has been wonwoo's homepage wallpaper on his computer since he took it a month before the incident.

Your breaths are now shallow, and when you start to feel dizzy, someone catches you, just on time.

“my love! Are you okay? Do you want to go home?” You heard a familiar voice behind you.

Mingyu's voice sounds so concerned. This does not happen often to you. Mingyu's now asking about a doctor who maybe could help you.

A middle-aged woman came forward and started to help you breathe.

Wonwoo gets confused when he sees a lot of people surrounding a spot in his museum, so he wants to check it.

Wonwoo halts his action when he sees you, well and alive, with a man beside you, and there's two little boys around you.

He feels his eyes getting soaked. You really didn't give up on them 5 years ago. They're here, on his exhibit.

His heart breaks when he sees you and them. The guilt is still there even after all these years.

Wonwoo knows what's behind you. It's a photograph of memory of you before the breakdown.

This whole exhibit was presented to you, his muse.

Wonwoo didn't even get to tell his messages that he kept for you to hear because when you get back up on your feet, you start to walk out.

“Honey, do you want to go to the hospital nearby?” The man beside you asks, a little bit loud because wonwoo still can hear it.

“No need, love, let's just go back to our hotel room, come on babies” you ushered Mingyu, Junseo, and Seojun.

Yes, wonwoo breaks his heart again.

All those heartbreaks were all his fault.