#his spotify wrapped is a mess

[mychapel-004]

morty smith would love undertale. i know toriel was one of his favourite characters. i know he avoided doing genocide route for as long as possible. i know the sans fight took him literal weeks. i know he stopped playing it in front of rick because the asshole would mock him for it (“he literally has one health point morty come on. this is getting sad” “you don’t GET IT leave me ALONE.”). i know he listens to fallen down alone in his room in the dark and it fills him with that hopeless little feeling of warm nostalgia. i know it he TOLD ME.

[schnaf]

@blueside-hobi tagged me to post my spotify wrapped, but my youtube recap is more telling, so here it is ♥

so yeah it's official now that i'm obsessed with bad omens i guess

[steddieasitgoes]

Teacher!Steve isn't big on music himself, but he has a Spotify for his students so they can listen to the songs/artists they like when they're doing independent work/quizzes/etc. He makes them submit songs periodically throughout the year so it stays updated and all their music preferences are heard.

Naturally, all his students are excited to see what a mess his Spotify Wrapped is and Steve makes sure to schedule in time for each class period so they can go through it together when its released.

Of course, it's a hot mess but they all love it, especially the videos their top artists send in.

Steve generally has no idea who sings any of the songs on the various playlists and has a lot of fun putting a face to a voice as they scroll through each video. It's pretty standard selfie shots of the artists talking until they get to one where a man with curly hair and big brown eyes is hopping around like an excitable child, practically shouting his name into the camera and rambling about how much he "appreciates each and every one of the heathens who listens to Corroded Coffin."

Steve has to do a double take because, "wait what?! this is the guy that's always shouting and singing about demons?! but he's so cute!"

His first-period class bursts into laughter at his outburst and of course someone is videoing his reaction. It gets posted to TikTok before the dismissal bell rings and by the time lunch gets there, the video of Steve going heart eyes for Eddie Munson goes viral.

Steve's embarassed but he doesn't ask his student to take it down because he knows how much they've been hoping to go viral this year. Besides, its not like anyone important is every going to see it, right?

Wrong.

Of course, chronically online Eddie Munson stumbles upon the TikTok and promptly runs through the green room, declaring his love for the beautiful Mr. Harrington, who teaches history to high schoolers for a living. He forces their assistant to drop everything he's working on and track down this Mr. Harrington guy because Eddie will not rest until he can talk to him.

Fast forward two days and Steve is hiding in his classroom during lunch, avoiding his coworkers to shamelessly flirt with Eddie Munson via Zoom.

[jamminvroomvroom]

let’s go ride.

LN x fem!reader

in which lando keeps getting frustrated and you wanna know why…

hiiiiii here u go! belated love day fic from me to you 💝 love u all, tysm for the love on my last few fics, i’ve had a lot going on lately so i’ve not had very much time to write but when the inspo hits….. shoutout to miss mcrae for dropping lando-coded bangers bc i literally cannot resist. might make a part 2 of all the times they get freaky in a car lmao, lemme know if you want that! likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appreciated so lemme know what u think xoxox

proofed by my own personal goat @lavenderlando 💖

songs to set the vibes: sports car by tate mcrae, bad guy by billie eilish

warnings: 18+!! minors begone! smut, language, fluff, bit of angst bc lando’s in a mood, friends to lovers, p in v, porn without plot but there is a little bit of plot, bitchy lando

4.2k words

you sit in silence, opening spotify and preparing to fiddle with the bluetooth as he slips into the drivers seat beside you. the car door slams shut and he huffs, jawline taut with annoyance. the hood of his car is surrounded, a million and one cameras pointed at you both as he tries to relax into his chair. the engine roars to life and you side eye him.

“when are you gonna learn, hm?” you try and sound playful, teasing, but it comes out laced with a twang of scolding. lando tenses up even further, turning to glare at you.

“god forbid i go outside.” he snaps.

“give over.” you roll your eyes. “poor me, i’m famous! lando, you can’t get angry when you park in the most high profile spot on the fucking planet and your fans want to worship you.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.” he sighs, white knuckles wrapping tighter around the steering wheel.

“don’t i? this has been happening a lot lately.” your voice softens, ever so slightly. “every time i’m seen with you, you lash out.”

“because i don’t want people harassing you, looking at you like some fucking commodity.” lando snarls, steely eyes locked on the supposed car enthusiasts that are slowly backing away from his parking space.

“lando, we’re friends. this has always been a thing. why is it bothering you so much now?”

you wonder if it bothers him for the same reason it bothers you.

he shuts his eyes, collecting himself for a moment. he puts the car in drive and smoothly pulls out of the space, ignores your question. you scowl at him, at this sudden childishness that has overtaken his easygoing manner in the last few months.

“fine. whatever.” you mutter, slumping defeatedly into your seat. you give up on playing music, leaving him to bask in the silence, something he loathed.

lando had switched from his usual self to this stony, irate version of him that you rarely had the displeasure of seeing, from the second you walked out of the restaurant where you’d had lunch. he was reluctant to pose for photos and sign hats, something he usually revelled in, grateful that people even wanted to see him. the swathes of fans that had gathered had irked him for once, but what really boiled his blood was the photographers that seemed to find him no matter where he chose to spend him time. so much for monaco’s privacy laws.

it wasn’t like he cared about himself, either. it was you. the way they leered, leaned close to you while he was distracted with pens being shoved in his face. it was the way their eyes dipped low, whether you were in a tank top or a baggy hoodie. it was the way they spread the false, painful narrative all over the internet that you and lando were together, which drove hoards of losers into your comment section and your DMs just to call you names.

you were not together. as much as it pained him, you were just friends.

he couldn’t exactly explain his overprotectiveness to you without getting himself into a big, tangled mess. you, being the resilient, cool as a cucumber stoic that you were didn’t care what fourteen year olds on the internet thought about you. you weren’t about to let faceless, jobless trolls ruin the friendship that you’d nurtured for years, through ups and downs, thick and thin, race wins and huge losses. but lando, god, it killed him, tore him up inside every time someone so much as looked at you wrong.

“you really don’t get it.” he says, hushed, like he’s telling a secret. you turn to look at him, tearing your eyes away from the glistening view of the marina.

“lando, tell me then. make it make sense because i’ve never seen you behave like this. they love you! least you can do is lose the attitude over some harmless pictures.”

“jesus christ, it’s not the fans! it’s not the ‘harmless pictures’! it’s these fucking creeps that follow us around just to make some money off of my own personal hell. you really don’t get it, because if you did, you’d know that it breaks my fucking heart to see the way people talk about you online, just for being seen with me. it’s my fault that you get harassed, that paps are basically stalking you now.”

he signs of his rant with a sharp inhale, one that seems to suck all of the life out of the car. you melt.

“but lando, it doesn’t bother me. i just wanna be here with you, i don’t care about the rest of it.” you coo softly, reaching over the centre console to grip his forearm.

“and i want you here. i want you with me every fucking second of the day, but i can’t cope. can’t help thinking that one day it’ll all just be too much and you’ll leave me.” he whispers.

“never. never ever ever.” you promise. your belly swirls with emotions, tickled from the inside out by butterflies that threaten to swarm.

lando breathes shakily, warmed through by the hand that rests on his arm as he manoeuvres through the twisty lanes. as he hits traffic and slows, he clocks another photographer looming on the pavement, lens aimed at his windshield. already too annoyed, he aggressively smacks his sun visor down, leaning over the console to reach yours too, pulling it down. he prays it’s enough.

“you need to relax, lan. i’m fine, we’re fine. i promise.” you reassure, but he’s breathing heavily now. “you don’t worry this much when it’s max.” you trail off.

he doesn’t know what comes over him. he spins the car into a sharp u-turn, positively speeding back in the direction you’d just come from. any mention of you and him as a ‘we’ makes him crazy, makes him utterly lose his mind, but something about your sweet, earnest voice bringing him back to reality has left him completely shaken. the sun is setting now, most people clearing out of the underground car park he pulls into to head back to their homes. he has other intentions. you don’t say another word until he pulls into a space at the back of the lot, tucked neatly into a corner.

“what are we doing?”

“need a minute.” lando rasps, forehead resting on his steering wheel, the matte leather pushing his sharp curls back. you trail your eyes over him, the way his chest rises and falls under the sweatshirt he’s wearing, the way his thick fingers curl as his grip continues to tighten.

“i’m jealous. and i’m selfish. and i’m a complete fucking idiot.” lando says, steadily, like he’s reading the news.

“you’re… you’re jealous? of what?” you’re like a deer in headlights.

“of any other person that gets to lay their fucking eyes on you.”

“what are you saying?” you whisper. the air in the car goes still, frozen. you can’t breathe.

“i’m saying… that you’re mine. and i should have made that a known fact a long time ago.” ever so slowly he looks up at you, and you gasp at the intensity of his stare. he’s gazing at you with complete conviction in his eyes, a whole lot of vulnerability mixed in with the sincerity of his words. “i don’t want anyone else anywhere near you. lose my fucking mind watching the way they look at you.”

“lando…” you trail off, eyes as wide as saucers. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

“i know this is terrible of me, to do this now, here - to do this at all, to be honest. i know that i have no right to stake some kind of claim on you, and i know that you probably don’t feel the same, but god, i just needed you to know. if you want me to shut the fuck up or leave you alone forever then i totally get it but-“

“oh my god, are you stupid?” you shake your head, still stuck in your state of disbelief, but you muster the coherency to grip the collar of his crewneck, tug him close.

your lips meet hastily, urgently, and every ounce to tension seems to seep out of the car. he moans at the very sensation of you against him, breath caught in his throat when you lace your finger through his hair like you want to mould your faces together, never stop. his brain finally catches up, awestruck as he is, and you trade passion and saliva, bumping noses as you clash chaotically.

“i think we’re both stupid.” he mumbles into your lips. you shut him up with another kiss, fiery and needy, and his hands begin to wander. he smoothes over the back of your jumper until he finds your waist, awkward in the limited space of the front of the car, and skims his hands up until he’s made his way beneath the material and he’s gripping your bare skin.

“too forward of me to ask you to get in the back?” lando pants with a cheeky smile.

“you literally just marked your territory on me, and nearly bit a photographer. i think we’re past ‘forward’.” you deadpan.

“then get in the fucking back.” he grins, devilish and commanding. you do as you’re told, wriggling between the leather until you’re propped up against the backseat. lando follows, sitting beside you, tugs you into his lap like you’re weightless.

you can feel him beneath you, hard and wanting, and you mewl, keen into him. your breaths mingle in the nonexistent space, lips brushing gently.

“this okay?” lando’s lips ghost over yours and you lean forward, just enough to reach him. he pulls back, eyes hooded, teasing, and tuts. “use your words.”

“who knew you were such a bossy boots.” you smirk. “more than okay.”

his eyes glaze over once he has your permission, and he kisses you like you’re the last supply of oxygen on earth. he licks into your mouth, wet and desperate and you whimper as he grazes over the crease of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt where it’s ridden up.

“can feel you.” lando groans, pulling away to look between your bodies. “so warm for me, you like seeing me all riled up?”

you nod coyly, lip caught between your teeth, and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter.

“what did i say about words?” lando composes himself enough to tease. you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way heat rolls through your body.

“like when you get all bitchy.” you reply, rolling your hips once.

“bitchy?”

“mhm. always been so easy to toy with.” you whisper, leaning in to nose along the thickness of his neck. you drag your tongue up the vein there, feeling it pulse under your tongue. he smells like his cologne, so him, and it makes you even hotter.

“oh, so you’ve been playing with me?” he chokes out, eyes rolling back in his head at the marks you’re leaving.

“maybe a little.” you hum.

“you liked watching me get angry? pretending to be all sweet and clueless?” lando whispers, the words hanging heavy in the space between you. all you can manage in response is a mischievous smile that twists his tummy.

your hands trail under his sweatshirt, skating over the muscled ripples of his belly, ever so slightly dipping into the band of his sweats. his head lulls back, blindly holding you close while you worship him. he lets you, lets himself have this moment, thinking for so long that it would never come.

“waited so long,” your lips brush over the shell of his ear, tongue grazing the lobe. he descends into a mess of shivers. “needed you to break first. i knew you would.” you croon.

“you’ve been loving this, haven’t you?” lando starts, low and calculating. “bet you’ve been getting off on dressing like a whore for the cameras, watching me suffer.” he pieces together. your resolve cracks. “bad girl.”

the sense of control you’d briefly maintained shatters, a hand around your neck forcing you away from him, preventing your sweet torture. his fingers flex, just above your collarbone, and you swallow at the smirk that seems to engulf his entire face. he looks animalistic, crazed with a feral adoration that leaves you certain that you’re dripping all over his lap.

“i think you’ve had your fun, baby, it’s my turn.”

you whine when he drags you across his lap, back and forth until you’re squirming. his hips rut up into yours, fuelling your desire for every single inch of him.

“please, lando.” you breathe, reaching out to lace your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“let me look at you.” he demands, shutting down your intentions for more. “i’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?”

“so have i.” you beg him with your eyes, but give in to him nonetheless. you’re staining his lap, grey sweats darkening as your wetness pools there and he can’t help but buck up into your warmth.

“wanna play with you, baby, see how you like it.” he taunts, bringing two fingers between your legs.

he brushes his knuckles over the obvious damp patch at the crotch of your panties, lip caught between his teeth at what he finds. your soaked through, and he pinches your bundle of nerves just to watch you thrash in his grip.

“i hate you right now.” you spit through gritted teeth, but your hips can’t help but chase his hand.

“doesn’t feel like it.” he kisses you quick, loving the way you lean in for more, but he relaxes against the seat and dips slowly beneath your underwear. “fuck.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to spread your wetness around, you’re already lathered in it, but he continues to tease, fingers gliding over your clit and through your folds.

“please.” you beg, leaning back to give him as much access as possible.

“what do you want, baby? tell me.” he urges, drawing circles on the swollen bundle of nerves.

“your fingers.”

“you have them.” he barks out a condescending laugh, applying more pressure just to prove his point.

“need them inside of me.” you pant, eyes squeezing shut at his sadistic game between your thighs.

“that’s my girl.” he praises, and you curse, clamping down around him before he even gets the first knuckle inside of you.

“how are you doing this to me?” you think aloud, tears in your waterline already. it all feels far too good for a first time.

“because i know you better than you think i do.” he coos.

lando pulls you flush against him, grinding his fingers deep so that they curl deliciously against your sweet spot. his palm bumps your clit with every twist of digits and he nips over your collarbone. his tongue laves over your skin, tasting the perspiration that gathers as the car steams up around you. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, huddled together in the back of his urus in a dimly lit car park. thank god you’d lost the photographers.

“can’t believe we’re doing this.” you gasp, feeling your tummy tighten at the thrill of it all, of feeling your best friend work to please you.

“i knew it would happen. knew that someday i’d get to see you like this, all for me.”

“all for you.” you repeat, drunk on him as you rode his fingers. “feels so good.”

“want you to come for me like this.” lando orders, replacing the heel of his hand with his thumb against your clit. his ministrations are more controlled like this, precise, and you throw your head back in pleasure. his teeth sink in to the base of your neck, sucking softly over the bruising skin, lapping at the mark to soothe it.

“i’m so close, lan.”* you choke, riding his fingers as you near your release.

“c’mon baby, make a mess for me.” he urges, eyes locked intensely on yours. you’re enticed by the sea green storm that swirls in his irises, shrinking as his pupils blow with lust. you can’t help it, can’t delay the inevitable, and you thrash in his arms, wildly bucking your hips against his as you fall apart.

you gush all over his lap, further ruining his sweatpants but he doesn’t bat an eyelid, working you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s transfixed by the way your thighs glisten, by the way your release seeps through the material covering his crotch and it makes him throb.

“that’s it baby.” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. you pant, collapsing forwards onto him.

“thank you.” you whisper into his neck, and he laughs softly.

“don’t thank me, silly girl.” he coos into your ear. you pull back just enough to kiss him, taking it slow, giving you a moment to come down from your devastatingly intense high. you’re exhausted, eyes fluttering shut from the exertion, and he tucks sweaty strands of your hair behind your ears. his fingers graze your warmed cheeks, noses bumping and you take him in, carefully studying the lines of his face, the sharp slope of his nose, the flutter of his eyelashes against those ridiculously high cheekbones.

“you’re so pretty.” your voice floats over him like a delicate caress, makes him shiver. he grins at you, enamoured.

“didn’t think our first time would be in the back of my car but i don’t think i can’t wait to get you home.”

“you’ve thought about this?” you ask, bashful. he gazes up at you sheepishly.

“every night before bed.” he jokes, and you shift your hips.

you’re overstimulated, but it does the trick, the playful haze shattering, replaced by thick, charged tension.

“you gonna make that fantasy a reality?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.” he mumbles.

his hands skim your waist, pushing your jumper up as he goes higher and higher, until it’s off, chucked into the footwell. you tear at his sweatshirt until it joins your discarded clothing and explore the bronzed planes of his chest, extra sun-kissed by the trip you’d taken to dubai just a few weeks before. if only you’d known then…

“hurry.” you plead, and he scoffs, adjusting you on his lap just enough to free himself from his sweatpants and boxers, and you gawk down at what’s revealed to you.

it’s big, thick, and you sigh in relief that he’d so thoroughly stretched you out, got you nice and slick for him already.

“gonna take it all for me?” lando taunts, catching your hanging jaw between two firm fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“gonna try.” you reason, breathing shakily as you rise up on your knees. you feel the head of his cock prodding your clit, the sodden tip running along your folds until it catches on your entrance. you both hiss as the contact, his hands steadying your hips.

“you can do it, baby.” lando promises, helps you begin your descent.

“oh my god.” you gasp, sinking down slowly. “dunno if i can take it, lan, you’re so- so…” you trail off, head thrown back far enough that you miss the way he’s smirking up at you.

“c’mon baby, being such a good girl for me, i know you can take it. just a little more.” he goads, pressing each button of your apparent praise kink, and you whine, soft moans tumbling from your lips. a sense of determination becomes you, and you’re aching to take him all the way.

you cry out his name when you’re pressed flush against him, and he soothes circles into your hips, holding you close against his chest. one hand smoothes through your hair, the lace of your bra scratching against his chest as you breathe rapidly.

“well done, baby, knew you could do it.” lando praises, trailing kisses over your face. you quiver in his hold, hips wiggling ever so slightly, and he takes that as a sign. “want me to do the work, hmm? make you feel so good?”

you nod lazily, looking up at him from where your face is smushed against his shoulder, and he lets you break his rule of “words”, softened by how beautiful you look, vulnerable in his strong arms. he starts to move, fucking up into you slowly, feeling you out. you can feel him twitch inside of you, his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of you, tight and warm, enveloped all around him. you roll your hips languidly, meeting his thrusts and you both moan out as the explosion of sensations unfolds between you.

“harder, lando. can take it.” you mumble, glazed over doe eyes looking into his. he tenses up, shaken to the very core by the emotional tether between you, feeling the way it grows even stronger. the one woman he’d wanted since he’d laid eyes on you, the one women he never thought he could have; his heart pounds violently in his chest.

he readjusts your hips, pushing you back so that you’re upright once more, eyes raking hungrily over your flushed body. your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged to the side, cups of your bra barely covering anything anymore. he tweaks a nipple through the lace, paws at your tits until you’re fluttering around him. the cups of your bra are tugged down, resting below your breasts and he swallows hard.

“fuck me, you’re so beautiful.” lando rasps, leaning you back further to perfect the angle.

once he’s satisfied, he bounces you against him, meeting your hips with harsh thrusts, his pace unrelenting. he can see the way you pool around his base, dampening the thatching of hair that decorates his pelvic bone. you seem to chase the friction there, rutting your clit against him. sweet puffs of breath fill his ears, melodic combined with a symphony of your needy whines, continuously intensifying as he fucks you deeper and deeper.

“it’s so good.” you slur, mouth hanging open, totally unhinged from the raw pleasure that he courses through your veins.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby.” he wants to say more, but then he sees it, the way your lower belly seems to protrude with every roll of his hips. “oh, fuck.” he cries out.

“do you see that, baby? see how deep i am?” lando growls, voice rippling through your connected bodies. you glance down, and the first tears start to fall.

“oh my god.” you repeat, nothing else to say, totally braindead at the sight. your cheeks are wet with tear tracks, utterly overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you, so blissful that it hurts.

“you crying for me, baby? do i feel that good?” lando mocks, reinvigorated by the way your tears gather at your collarbone. his hand swipes messily against your throat, swiping them away, but you catch his hand, keeping it there. your eyes lock as your hand squeezes around his, a silent plea. he rocks up into you even harder, hand clamping around you neck slowly, leaving your breathless, liquid heat shooting down your spine. you can’t stop it from hitting you like a ton of bricks, can’t hold back, not when he’s making it hurt so fucking good.

“lando, i can’t- i’m gonna- fuck.” you bellow, falling to pieces around him. he keeps you propped up through your orgasm, plowing into your limp body until you’re so tight around him that he quite literally can’t keep going. he shudders, repeating your name like a godforsaken prayer as his abs flex beneath your shaky hands. you feel him filling you up, shots of warmth painting your insides.

lando lets you collapse into his arms, holding you tight as you both tremble in the silence of the car. condensation rolls down the windows, giving away your frenzied desires. if anyone caught sight of his car, it wouldn’t be hard to do the math.

“gonna let me take you home so we can do that again?” lando laughs, breathing you in. he can feel the way your chest rumbles softly in response, hears your angelic, raspy laugh.

“gimme a sec, don’t think i can move ever again.” you groan, sighing into his chest.

you stay there for a while, basking in it, coming down. he traces shapes into the bare skin of your back; you absentmindedly trace a heart into the window fog.

when you finally manage to redress, it’s dark outside, bright lights casting patterns into the calm midnight of the marina. he holds your hand as he drives up into the heights of monaco, and you stare at the way yours fits so perfectly with his, just like how your head tucked so perfectly into the crook of his neck. you smile out the window and lando smiles at you.

by the time bedtime rolls around, you’re both well and truly exhausted. when you try and wriggle out of his grip, ready to retreat back to the guest room like a wounded animal, lando pouts - pouts! - and holds you even tighter.

“silly girl.” he kisses the words into your hairline, and drifts off to sleep.

-

hehe

-

taglist

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed! any tags that don’t work will be removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @formulaal

taglist cont. in reblogs. smooches

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation wc: 13.8k spotify playlist series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

The sounds of heavy pants fill the room, one more ragged than the other. The bedframe hits against the wall in a repetitive thump, the bedsheets a mess. The sunlight is peeking through the curtains with an occasional moan and urge for him to move faster. Himari’s arms are wrapped around the neck of the man, her legs tight around his waist. Face scrunching up in pleasure as she indulges in the fact that she’s having sex with another man in her boyfriend’s bed. Work is the excuse he gave her after she asked to come over. Of course, she didn’t believe him—she’s finding it harder to do that nowadays. 

Either way, she decided to come in, knowing he kept a spare key under his doormat. Walking through the empty penthouse, her fingers running across the white walls as she stalked to Satoru’s room. A bad mistake on her end because as soon as she did, that bitter coil of jealousy sprung free. A stupid fucking picture frame of the people who are actively ruining her life and her relationship. She gripped it with tight hands, almost throwing it to the ground in a fit of fury. 

Well, she did do that, actually.

But even after seeing the glass shards spread out across the floor, stomping on the picture of you and that fucking kid—leaving an obvious footprint on it—it didn’t quell her growing emotions. It didn’t make her feel better, if anything—it made her feel even worse. And she was suddenly struck with the idea of making Satoru feel every inch of pain he’d been causing her the past month or so. He’s not even here, but maybe she can leave him a nice cum stain on his sheets. How furious he’ll be when he discovers that she’s being intimate with someone else, that another man’s semen is stained on his bed. The thought alone makes her hornier, nails digging into the back of the man hovering above her as he plunges in and out of her tight hole. A nasty smile forms on her lips. 

“You know,” Sukuna’s gruff voice speaks into her ear. “I’ve had better. I’m only doing this to make your boyfriend pissed off.” 

Himari’s eyes snap open, his words putting a small halt to her daydreaming. She’s met with an equally vicious smile—one that lacks warmth completely. “Fuck you,” she snaps, jaw clenching. 

“Yeah, you are.” He presses his large hand down on her mouth. “Now be quiet, your voice is one of the worst things I’ve ever heard.”

If only she picked a better candidate. If possible, he’s beginning to piss her off more than Satoru himself. Though she should’ve expected that, considering her boyfriend hates him and vice versa. But if Satoru found out she had sex with his business rival behind his back, he’d realize just how much he’d let her slip from his hands. And of course, he’ll fuck her to make up for it. Yes. Yes. Yes. 

That’s it. 

She moves her gaze away from Sukuna, staring up at the ceiling in utter bliss at the possible future. She feels her climax rising up within her gut, clenching around his thick cock. Smiling against his palm as his thrusts quicken, a shuddering grunt escaping his lips. He must be close too. She can practically taste it on her tongue. Her eyes move down from the ceiling, over to the broken glass and photograph still on the floor, then over to her boyfriend’s hamper of dirty clothes, his cologne on his dresser, his collection of glasses, and then…

The calendar that’s right above his dresser. 

The days are crossed off with an ‘x’ in black marker. But one thing catches her attention—and subsequently stops her climax, but not Sukuna’s.

January 5th.

Two days from now. 

Dad appreciation day!! ♡ 2pm

Her anger from before swivels back up, raging inside her petite body with an unforeseen strength. She snatches her phone from the bedside table without a second thought, not minding the way Sukuna carelessly pulls out and dumps his warm load on her stomach. Her thumb moves fast, tapping down a few times before lifting it to her ear. It rings just once before the respondent answers. 

“Daddy, I need your help.”

“Soooo……”

Shoko sips from her coffee, auburn eyes constantly going from one face to the other—one visibly more clenched than the other. She taps her foot against the floor, the cozy feel of the cafe doing nothing to diminish the awkwardly tense situation between her and her two best friends. Well, just her friends, actually. Satoru—in all his glory—is shameless. Glaring daggers at Suguru, who sits beside Shoko. It’s a wonder that the coffee cup in his hand hasn’t popped. Silently tensing his jaw, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. And Suguru…seems to be taking it well? Focusing on his own cup of tea, sparing a glance back up at the man across from him before looking away.

It’s never quiet between the two. And if it is, that means something happened. From the look on their faces—their demeanor—it must’ve been something serious. After a few more suffocating minutes, she sets her cup down and clears her throat. “Did…something happen?”

“No.” is Suguru’s immediate response. 

That earns a loud scoff from the other side of the table. “Yeah, keep lying.” The sarcasm in his voice is loud.

Shoko raises a brow, leaning back in her chair as she folds her arms. “Okay, well, clearly something happened. Want to clue me in, or should I just keep sipping my coffee while you two have a silent pissing contest?”

Suguru sighs, running a hand through his hair, looking as though he’s already regretting being here. “It’s nothing important, Shoko.”

Satoru clicks his tongue, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table, his blue eyes gleaming with irritation. “Nothing important? That’s what we’re calling it now? Really, Suguru?”

Suguru finally meets Satoru’s gaze, his calm demeanor slipping just a fraction. “Yeah. Nothing important. Unless you want to blow this completely out of proportion, as usual.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Satoru snaps, his voice dripping with contempt. “Forgive me for being a little pissed when my best friend crosses a line.”

Shoko’s eyes widen slightly, her gaze darting between them. “Crosses a line? Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. What line are we talking about here?”

Neither man answers immediately, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Suguru sets his cup down, exhaling slowly. “Shoko, it’s not worth discussing.”

“Not worth discussing?” Satoru’s voice rises slightly, his tone incredulous. “Oh, it’s worth discussing. You want to talk about loyalty, about respect—”

“Enough, Satoru.” Suguru’s voice is firm, but there’s an undercurrent of guilt that Shoko doesn’t miss.

“Shut the hell up.” Satoru snaps, leaning forward, his sunglasses slipping just slightly down his nose. He looks every bit like he’s ready to leap across the table. “Why don’t you tell her, Suguru? Or should I?”

“Tell me what?” Shoko interjects, her voice rising slightly in pitch. She’s starting to look more amused than concerned, though there’s still an edge of apprehension in her tone. “Seriously, you two are acting like kids.”

Suguru exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face, his usual composure beginning to crack. “Nothing happened. It’s not a big deal. Satoru’s just—”

“Pissed,” Satoru finishes for him, voice icy. “And you know damn well why.”

Shoko leans forward, resting her chin in her hand, her sharp eyes narrowing in thought. “Alright. Spill. Someone better tell me what the hell is going on before I throw this coffee at both of you.”

Suguru looks at her, then glances at Satoru, who’s still radiating pure anger. He finally lets out a resigned sigh. “It’s nothing, Shoko. Just a…misunderstanding.”

Satoru barks out a humorless laugh. “A misunderstanding? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Shoko blinks, her lips twitching as though she’s fighting off a grin. “Satoru, I’m begging you—use your words. What misunderstanding?”

Satoru turns his gaze back to Suguru, his voice dropping low. “Ask him why he thought it was okay to cross a fucking line.”

​​Shoko’s eyebrows shoot up, and for the first time, she looks genuinely intrigued. “Okay. What kind of line did you cross, Suguru?”

Suguru doesn’t answer, his gaze firmly fixed on his tea. Satoru, however, doesn’t hesitate. “The kind where you go after someone you know isn’t yours to have.”

“She’s not yours either, Satoru.” Suguru mumbles under his breath with exasperation. 

Shoko’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh,” she breathes, the weight of the situation sinking in. “I see.” She looks at Suguru, her expression unreadable. “Care to defend yourself?”

Suguru’s jaw tightens, but he finally speaks, his tone even, though there’s an undercurrent of frustration. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Bullshit!” Satoru snaps, his voice raising enough to earn a few glances from other patrons in the café. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

Suguru doesn’t reply. 

“Oh, no way.” Shoko leans forward, pointing a finger between them. “Did you—? And you—? Oh, you guys are so messed up.”

Satoru gestures dramatically toward Suguru. “See? Even Shoko gets it. You don’t mess with someone’s—”

“I didn’t mess with anyone,” Suguru interrupts, his tone sharp but not defensive. “And you’re blowing this out of proportion. Again.”

“I’ll fucking show you—”

“Satoru,” Shoko says sharply, placing a hand on his arm. “Relax. Let him talk.”

Suguru looks at her briefly, gratitude flickering in his eyes before he returns his focus to Satoru. “I wasn’t trying to take anything away from you. I’m not. It just…I know I’m not innocent, Satoru.” He meets his best friend’s eyes, lips thinned with sympathy.

That doesn’t deter Satoru. “Then why are you acting like you are? Lying to my face still, too.”

“Satoru, I’m sorry. I apologized a thousand times already. What more can I do?”

For a moment, Satoru looks like he’s going to lose it, but Shoko’s firm grip on his arm keeps him grounded. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, clearly this isn’t going to be solved here. So how about you two go outside, punch it out or whatever, and then come back when you’re ready to act like adults?” Neither of them responds immediately, tension crackling in the air between them. Shoko groans and shakes her head, her gaze shifting between them once more. “So, what I’m hearing is that one of you fucked up, and now I’m stuck playing therapist again. Great. Just great.”

Her tone turns serious, arms crossing over her chest. “Just…tell me what happened. No cryptic bullshit. I want the full story, or I’m walking out of here and leaving you two to sulk in your man-pain alone.”

Satoru breaks the silence first, his voice cutting through the tension. “Fine. You want the full story?” He glares at Suguru, who remains stoic, then turns his gaze to Shoko. “He decided it’d be a great idea to get too close to Y/N. Closer than he should’ve.”

Suguru’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond immediately.

Shoko blinks, her hand pausing mid-air as she sets her coffee cup down. “Define ‘too close.’ Because I swear, if this is some petty jealousy thing, I’m not wasting my time refereeing it.”

Satoru leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “How about almost kissing her? Does that sound like jealousy, Shoko?”

Her eyes widen, and she slowly turns to Suguru, whose calm façade is starting to crack. “Seriously?” she asks, her tone a mix of disbelief and disappointment. “Suguru, seriously?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Suguru says quietly but firmly. He rubs his temple, looking uncharacteristically worn down. “Things got complicated. She was upset, I was trying to comfort her—it wasn’t planned. It just happened. I messed up”

“Yeah, I’m sure it just happened,” Satoru retorts, his voice laced with venom. “Because comforting someone obviously involves leaning in like you’re about to—”

“Satoru, enough.” Suguru’s voice rises, his calm exterior shattering for a moment. “It didn’t happen, okay? Nothing happened. And it wasn’t about betraying you. It was about her. About what she’s going through. But of course, you only see it as some kind of attack on you.”

Shoko raises a hand, her eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay, time out. This is spiraling. Suguru, I get that you were trying to help, but you have to see how this would look to Satoru. And Satoru, you need to stop acting like this is just about you and your ego. Y/N’s a person, not a prize to be fought over.”

Suguru closes his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he’s dealing with a headache. “It just wasn’t like that. She was upset, and things got…misinterpreted. It wasn’t intentional.”

“Misinterpreted?” Satoru’s voice is cold, his usually playful tone replaced with something venomous. “You don’t ‘accidentally’ lean in for a kiss, Suguru. Don’t act like you’re blameless.”

Satoru’s fists clench on the table, his knuckles white as he continues. “And she won’t let me be there for her! She shuts me out, Shoko, every single time. And then she turns to him—” He gestures angrily toward Suguru. “Like I’m some kind of goddamn afterthought.”

Suguru’s voice is quiet, but there’s a weight to it that makes both Shoko and Satoru pause. “She turned to me because she needed someone who wasn’t going to make it about themselves. Maybe you should think about that.”

Satoru slams his hand on the table, making the cups rattle. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me! You think I don’t see what you’re doing? You’ve been waiting for a chance like this—”

“Enough!” Shoko’s voice cuts through the argument like a blade, her usual calm demeanor replaced with rare frustration. “Both of you need to shut up for two seconds and think about what you’re doing. Fighting over Y/N like she’s some kind of prize? Do you have any idea how shitty that is? To her, and to yourselves?”

The men fall silent again, though Satoru’s glare doesn’t soften, and Suguru looks away, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. Shoko sighs, rubbing her temples. “You’re both being idiots. Y/N’s going through her own stuff right now, and you’re sitting here making it about your egos. Maybe try putting her first for once instead of playing this stupid tug-of-war.” 

Suguru nods slightly, his expression unreadable. Satoru stays silent, his jaw clenched, the storm in his eyes still brewing.

Shoko rubs her eyes and looks at Suguru. “First off, why was she upset?”

He picks at his nail, brows knitting together. “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. I’m assuming it’s whatever happened when she went out.”

“She went out with a Zenin.”

The revelation shocks both Shoko and Suguru. They look back at their friend, his expression tight, focusing on his own clenched fists. “I saw the car that picked her up.”

“Which Zenin?” Suguru asks, leaning forward. 

“Only one prick drives a flashy Maybach like that.” Shoko sighs, and Suguru shakes his head—running his hands through his hair. Satoru continues. “I didn’t even know she knew him. How the hell does she even—” he cuts himself off with a heavy groan, rubbing his face up and down. The weight of everything that’s happening, the fact that you went out with Naoya and supposedly another friend, then you come back about to kiss Suguru, and he makes you cry by yelling in your face and saying shit he probably shouldn’t have. “Jesus…I can’t get a fucking break.”

Shoko exhales sharply, crossing her arms as her gaze flickers between Satoru and Suguru. "Naoya Zenin? That guy? Are you serious?"

Suguru leans back in his chair, his lips pressing into a thin line. "What the hell would she even want with someone like him?"

"That’s what I’d like to know," Satoru snaps, his voice sharper than intended. His hands tug through his hair in frustration, his mind spiraling. "I mean, she’s not…stupid. She wouldn’t just—"

"She wouldn’t," Shoko interrupts, her tone calm but firm. "But you of all people should know she doesn’t make these kinds of decisions lightly. If she was with Naoya, there’s probably a reason. Maybe she needed something, or maybe—"

"Or maybe I pushed her into it," Satoru mutters, his voice dropping. His hands drop to his lap, and for the first time since sitting down, he looks genuinely deflated. "I’ve been so caught up in my own bullshit…I haven’t been there for her. Not the way I should be. And now she’s turning to guys like him."

Suguru narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. "You don’t know that for sure. Just because she was in his car doesn’t mean she’s 'turning to' him. Don’t assume the worst."

"But what else am I supposed to think?" Satoru bites back, his tone rising again. "She won’t talk to me, Suguru. She shuts me out. And when she finally does open up to someone, it’s you, or—or some Zenin asshole—"

"Stop," Shoko cuts in, her voice hard. "Seriously, stop spiraling. You’re not helping anyone by sitting here making this about your insecurities. If you care about her—and I mean really care—you’re going to have to do better than this."

Satoru opens his mouth to retort but stops short, his gaze falling to the table.

"Look," Shoko continues, her voice softening, "I get that you’re upset. And yeah, the Naoya thing is…weird. But the only way you’re going to fix this is by talking to her. Not Suguru, not me—her. Get your shit together and figure it out."

Satoru finds it hard to speak, a weird lump forming in his throat. Nails digging into his palms and feeling his heart rate begin to pick up. Figure it out? That’s easier said than done. Not to mention the fact that he’s probably the last person you want to see right now. Nothing seems right right now. He’s not sure what he could even begin to say to you to discuss the things you both desperately need to discuss. And when he looks back over at Suguru, the surge of jealousy—anger springs up again. How can he talk to you? Is it worth even trying to? What will change? He doesn’t…have you.

Suguru gives Satoru a face of regret. “Satoru, I…I’m sorry. Really, I am. I was stupid, I know. She was drunk, vulnerable and I—I let her…..” Suguru’s words trail off, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic hesitation. He looks down at his tea, gripping the cup so tightly it seems like it might shatter. “I let her…cross a line. I should’ve stopped her. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

Satoru’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as his fists clench harder. “Damn right, you should’ve stopped her,” he snaps, venom lacing his tone. “You’re supposed to have my back, not—” He stops, inhaling sharply as he tries to get a grip on his rising anger. “Forget it. It doesn’t even matter now.”

“It does matter,” Suguru insists, leaning forward slightly. “You think I don’t know how bad I screwed up? I hate that I hurt you, but Satoru, this isn’t just about me or you. It’s about her. She was falling apart the other night, and I should’ve done more to help instead of making things worse.”

Satoru glares at him, his icy blue eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. “You think saying sorry fixes this? That it fixes anything?” His voice drops, quieter but more cutting. “She was falling apart, and instead of helping, you let her…what? Kiss you?”

Suguru’s silence speaks volumes, and the tension between them becomes almost suffocating.

Shoko sighs heavily, dragging a hand down her face. “Alright, enough,” she says firmly, her voice cutting through the thick tension like a knife. “This isn’t helping anyone. Satoru, you’re pissed—fine. You have every right to be. Suguru, you’re guilty—good, you should be. But sitting here throwing blame back and forth isn’t going to solve anything. What matters is what happens next.”

“What happens next?” Satoru echoes bitterly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s next, Shoko? I just walk up to her, pour my heart out, and hope she doesn’t slam the door in my face?”

“Maybe,” Shoko says simply, shrugging as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Or maybe you start with an apology. A real one. Not one of your half-assed, sarcastic ones. And maybe you listen to her for once instead of jumping to conclusions or trying to control the narrative.”

Satoru looks away, his jaw clenching again as he processes her words. Deep down, he knows she’s right. He’s been so caught up in his own emotions, his own insecurities, that he hasn’t stopped to think about how you feel or what you need. But fuck is it going to be hard. Truth is, he doesn’t want you turning to other men for comfort, he just….

Suguru clears his throat, drawing Satoru’s attention back to him. “For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “I think she still cares about you. She wouldn’t be this upset if she didn’t.”

The words hit Satoru like a gut punch, and for a moment, all he can do is stare at his best friend. The anger, the jealousy, the guilt—it all swirls inside him, threatening to overwhelm him. But somewhere beneath it all, there’s a flicker of hope. “I’ll…talk to her,” he says finally, his voice low but resolute. “I don’t know how, or what I’m even going to say, but I’ll figure it out.”

Shoko smiles faintly, picking up her coffee again. “Good. Because if you don’t, I will. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

For the first time that morning, Satoru lets out a small, humorless chuckle. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Satoru peeks over at Suguru, the two sharing a silent look of understanding. One that says he’s not off the hook yet, but that there’s other fish to fry.

You’re biting your nail nervously. Darting back to check the time before at your excited five-year-old who is jumping around happily in the living room watching his show. You let him pick out his own outfit for today, a red shirt with white letters that spell ‘MOMMA’S BOY’ and simple black jeans with his vans. His hair is styled in a way that he said resembles his Papa. you grinned in melancholy at that, giving your son the hairstyle he wanted. You, yourself, are dressed simply. Dark jeans with a turtleneck—a savior in the coldness it is today. Your coat and shoes are already on, your purse slung over your shoulder, and yet you haven’t left yet. You feel bad to—waiting on a certain someone. Koji has been asking about his father since he woke up, boasting about how he can’t wait to show him off to his friends today and when he is coming. 

Leaning against the kitchen counter, your thoughts are drowning you. When you hear your phone ring, you’re on it in an instant. Though you’re met with another man’s name. Letting out a deep breath and pressing accept. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Suguru’s voice replies. “Sorry, you busy right now?”

“Uh—” you glance at the clock. “I can spare a few minutes.”

He sighs and adjusts himself. “Good, this will be quick. I don’t want to hold you up too much.”

“Is something wrong?” you reply, biting your lip.

He takes a moment to respond, heaving and exhaling through the receiver. “Look, Y/N. I…I just want to apologize for the other night. Really, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that and I should’ve…stopped you. I’m sorry.”

Your mouth parts, startled by the fact that he felt the need to apologize. Classic Suguru. You clear your throat. “I–no. It’s okay. It’s…that was on me. I’m sorry.”

“You were drunk and emotional, I should’ve been the person to put a halt to things.”

You can’t help but almost grimace at the way he sounds so….regretful—maybe appalled? Was the thought of kissing you…really that bad for him to stomach? With a hum back to him, you notice the time cutting closer—scratching your head.

“And…and I think it’s best if I—if we—put a little more…distance between each other. It wouldn’t be right for that situation to happen again, or for us to get close like that. It’s disrespectful to Satoru and I don’t want to tarnish my friendship with him like that. I’m sorry.”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach as his words hang heavily in the air. The way Suguru's voice cracks with such sincerity—it makes the reality of the situation feel even worse. He’s being careful, trying to fix something that feels irreparably broken, but you can’t stop the rush of emotions that flood you. A strange lump forms in your throat as you exhale softly, gripping the edge of the counter harder. Your mind races, trying to catch up to his apology, the weight of his words sinking in deeper.

You almost feel like laughing—bitterly, of course—but you hold back. “Suguru, I… I understand,” you finally manage, though the words feel inadequate in this moment. “I never wanted to put you in that position, either. It was a mistake, and I—I don’t know what I was thinking. But you’re right. I shouldn’t have let things go that far.”

The silence that stretches between you two now feels uncomfortable. There’s no easy way to navigate this, no graceful way out of this mess that you’ve all somehow ended up in. It’s like standing in the middle of a battlefield, and the war is only just beginning. You still can’t deny the pang of hurt that strikes through you, feeling a small sense of irritation at the sole fact he’s doing this all for Satoru—for his friend. Sure, they’re best friends and whatnot, but why can’t someone do something for you for once? Why is it that the one person who’s been showing you nothing but patience, hospitality, and understanding is pulling himself back for him? Is it selfish to feel hurt by the fact that you almost feel forced to put up with everything alone?

“I should've been stronger,” you continue quietly, your voice trembling just slightly. “I’m sorry, Suguru. For all of it.”

He sighs again, as if the apology means something to him, but also knowing it doesn't fix anything. “I don’t blame you, Y/N. I really don’t. I just—this situation is complicated, and I’m trying to be the right kind of person here. For Satoru, for you, for all of us.”

You can feel the distance he's trying to place between you both, even if it's an unspoken agreement. A part of you wants to argue, to tell him that things are never as clear-cut as he’s trying to make them, that Satoru doesn’t deserve anything. But your head spins, and you're not sure if you can find the right words anymore. You just feel... drained. There’s a brief, awkward pause as you try to find something else to say, something to make this feel less painful.

"I'll let you go," Suguru says after a beat, sensing that you're running out of words. "I just wanted to clear the air before you see him again. Please don’t take this the wrong way, Y/N, but I think it’s better if we step back from this... from everything, for a while."

You nod slowly, eyes feeling glossy, even though he can’t see it. "Okay."

"Take care of yourself," he says quietly before hanging up.

The phone feels heavier in your hand as you lower it. You glance over to Koji, who's still happily hopping around, completely oblivious to the storm that just hit. Well, there goes that. A scoff sounds out, hovering above the kitchen sink—hands gripping the edge of the counter. You just keep fucking things up, don’t you? Driving others away because you don’t know when to stop. Your breath catches in your throat, and you blink away the sting in your eyes. Koji’s laughter fills the space around you, innocent and unaware of the weight on your shoulders. You glance down at the phone in your hand, feeling a mix of anger, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of loss. Suguru’s words replay in your head like a broken record, his apology, the distance he’s imposing, the way he’s doing all of this for Satoru. For his friendship. 

You almost want to scream, to tell him that this isn’t about his damn loyalty to Satoru, but about what you’ve been through and the mess that’s been made of your life. But all you can do is swallow it down as if your voice has been stolen from you. You run a hand through your hair, peering up at Koji again. He’s still bouncing around, full of excitement for the day ahead. He doesn’t deserve this. You promised him a better life, a life free from the kinds of complicated messes you’ve been tangled in for too long. But all of it—Satoru, Suguru, and you—feels like a web you can’t escape. The knots grow tighter the more you try to get out. “Momma?” Koji’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you meet his bright eyes. “Is Papa coming now?”

You freeze, your breath caught in your chest. The question makes everything hit you all at once. That aching emptiness. The truth you’ve been avoiding. Satoru probably isn’t even coming today. He’s too busy, too wrapped up in his own world. You know it. Koji doesn’t. You take a slow, deep breath, and then force a smile onto your lips, trying to ignore the heaviness that settles in your chest. “Not yet, sweetie,” you say softly, walking over to him and kneeling down to his level. “Papa’s just finishing up some work, okay? We’ll get to see him soon, I promise.”

Koji looks at you with wide eyes, tilting his head. “But you said… you said we were going together.”

You swallow, forcing the tightness in your throat to subside. “I know, honey. But sometimes grown-ups get really busy. I’m sure he’ll be ready when we get there. Let’s go grab a snack, yeah?”

He nods, his usual energy coming back, though you can see the hint of confusion still lingering in his eyes. As he grabs your hand and pulls you toward the kitchen, you let the smile on your face fade just enough to let the tears you’ve been holding back fall, your back turned to him so he can’t see. The phone call with Suguru still stings, leaving an empty feeling in your chest that refuses to go away. You wanted more than this. You wanted things to be different. But life never really seems to work out that way. As much as you want to deny it, the reality of it all is starting to sink in: you’re alone in this.

Koji’s classroom is buzzing with energy when you arrive, filled with laughter, excited chatter, and the occasional squeak of sneakers against the polished wooden floors. Decorations hang from the ceiling—paper streamers in bright colors, hand-drawn posters that read Happy Dad Appreciation Day! in crayon-scrawled letters, and a long banner strung up at the front of the room welcoming all the fathers. Koji practically bounces beside you, his tiny hand gripping yours as his eyes sweep over the room in search of one person. The excitement radiates off him in waves, and your stomach knots. You already know what’s coming.

“Where’s Papa?” he asks, his voice filled with anticipation as he looks up at you with those big, innocent eyes.

You force a smile, tightening your hold on his hand. “He’s coming, baby,” you say softly. “Let’s go find your seat, okay?”

Koji nods, trusting you without question, and it makes your chest ache. You lead him toward the small tables arranged in clusters, where children are already showing off handmade cards and crafts to their fathers. The sight is enough to make your throat tighten—dads kneeling beside their kids, laughing, ruffling their hair, lifting them up in tight hugs, mothers off to the side, and mingling with each other. Koji plops down at his designated spot, a small desk with his name written on a blue name tag. In front of him sits a paper he decorated himself, a drawing of you, him, and Satoru, all holding hands beneath a bright sun. The word FAMILY is scribbled across the top in uneven letters. Your eyes linger on the drawing for a moment too long.

“Koji!” One of his classmates, a boy with a missing front tooth, runs up to him. “Is your dad here yet?”

Koji perks up immediately, glancing around again before shaking his head. “Not yet, but he’s coming!” His smile is unwavering, full of pure belief, and it only makes your heart squeeze tighter.

“Oh, really? My Daddy is here already.” The young boy comments, head tilting in curiosity. His eyes graze over to you. “Only your Mommy is here?”

Koji nods. “Mhm! But my Papa is coming soon.”

“Stop lying,” another boy walks up to the mix, arms crossed with a smile. 

Koji’s brows furrow, his small hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m not lying!” he insists, his voice firm but laced with a hint of uncertainty. He glances up at you for reassurance, and you give him a small, encouraging smile.

The boy shrugs, clearly unfazed. “Then where is he?”

Koji puffs out his chest. “He’s coming! He’s just busy.”

Another child, a girl with pigtails, leans in curiously. “Busy with what?”

Koji hesitates, his fingers twitching as he struggles to come up with an answer. Before he can respond, the classroom door swings open, and more fathers step in, greeted by excited squeals and hugs from their kids. Koji watches, his eager eyes flitting toward the door each time it opens, only for his shoulders to drop when it’s never the person he’s hoping for. The children look back at Koji, expecting an answer. You clear your throat and regard them. “Koji’s dad is coming. Where are your parents, hm? You shouldn’t run off without them.”

The kids grumble childishly before scurrying off.  You tilt your head down, placing a gentle hand on your son’s back. “Hey,” you murmur. “Papa will be here soon, okay?”

He nods, but the brightness in his expression dims just a little. “Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

Mr. Ito claps his hands, gathering the children’s attention. “Alright, everyone! Let’s all take a seat with our dads—or moms!” he adds with a kind smile toward you. “We’re going to start our special activities now.”

Koji swallows hard, gripping the hem of his shirt as he walks to his spot on the colorful carpet. He sits beside you, his small hand reaching for yours, holding on tightly. You squeeze it reassuringly, silently hoping—praying—that Satoru keeps his promise. You sit beside him, trying to steady yourself, to keep the nagging worry at bay. You check your phone—no messages. No calls. Nothing. 

“Alright, everyone! We’re going to start with our very special ‘Why We Love Our Dads’ presentation we practiced in class!”

A murmur of excitement spreads through the kids as they grab their drawings and cards, eager to share. One by one, they begin taking turns standing in front of the room, reading out loud the reasons they love their fathers. Laughter fills the space, along with the occasional aww from the parents. Koji grips the edge of his paper tightly, his little fingers curling around it. He turns to you, eyes shining. “It’s almost my turn!” he whispers, practically vibrating in his seat. “Papa’s gonna hear everything I wrote about him!”

You don’t know what to say. You can only nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat.

Minute after minute passes. More fathers beam at their children, patting their heads, giving them hugs. The list of kids waiting to present grows smaller. And still—no Satoru.

You check your phone again.

Nothing.

Damn it, Satoru!

Koji’s excitement starts to wane, his fingers fidgeting with the paper in his hands. He keeps sneaking glances toward the entrance, and with each passing second, the light in his eyes dims just a little more. Biting his tiny lip in contemplation, his brows knitting in an uncomfortable way. You can only offer encouraging words and touches, though you know that’s not enough for what should be a special moment like this one. By the time his name is called, he hesitates. His little hands clutch the drawing so tight that the edges begin to wrinkle. “Koji?” his teacher prompts gently.

You place a reassuring hand on his back, leaning in close. “You got this, sweetheart,” you whisper, kissing his cheek.

He nods slowly and stands, walking to the front of the room with his paper in his hands. His voice is quieter than usual when he speaks. You stand up, moving over to the side but close enough so you can record him better—giving him a big smile and thumbs up behind the camera.

Koji looks at you and when he sees your further encouragement, a small smile breaks out onto his face before he’s looking down at his colored paper. “I…I love my papa because he’s…he’s really s-strong and cool,” Koji starts, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “And he makes the best pancakes. And he always makes me laugh. We always go on undercover missions. He buys me toys and builds forts with me. A-And…” His voice falters just slightly, his eyes flickering once more toward the door. His fingers tighten around the paper.

You can see it—the moment realization starts creeping in. The moment the truth settles in his tiny frame. The way his eyes blink too rapidly in a way that lets you know he’s on the verge of shutting down and crying. Your smile wavers, forcing yourself to show nothing but support for your son at a time like this. 

“And…” He tries again, but there’s something softer in his tone now, something uncertain. He looks down at his drawing, then at the room full of fathers who showed up.

And then, finally, he turns his gaze toward you.

His smile is smaller now, but still there. He holds up his drawing, his voice clearer this time. “…And my mom is really strong too. She does everything Papa does.”

There’s a warmth in the room, a few murmurs of appreciation, but all you can focus on is Koji’s face, the way he’s looking at you now. And for a brief second, just a second, you think maybe—just maybe—he understands. Your eyes are beginning to water, a shaky exhale leaving your lips in a quiet way because you are not crying right now. Maybe later. 

“She helps me with my homework, even when I don’t get it right away. And she makes my lunch just how I like it, even when she’s really busy.” His lips press together for a moment, as if he’s thinking carefully about his next words. “And she tucks me in every night and stays with me until I fall asleep when Papa lets me stay up late.” He giggles to himself at the memory.

There’s a shift in the room now. A few of the fathers exchange glances, some of the mothers in the crowd offering soft smiles. You can feel the warmth of their eyes on you, but you don’t dare look away from Koji. “She tells me stories about superheroes,” he continues, his voice gaining just a little more confidence. “And even though she says she’s not one, I think she is. Papa says she is, he says she’s a better superhero than he is!”

Something in your chest clenches so tight it’s almost hard to breathe. Your vision blurs slightly, and you blink rapidly, taking a slow, shaky inhale. The grip on your phone falters a little.  

“But Papa is taller than Mama. He has blue eyes and he does these really funny voices when he reads me stories,” Koji continues, looking at the small crowd of families. “I love my Papa because…because I want to be like him when I grow up, but I also want to be like my Mama. I want to be smart, strong, and tall!” A small chorus of laughter runs out, with you following. “When I’m my Papa’s age, I hope I can love someone like how loves Mama! But they don’t sleep in the same bed…and Papa doesn’t live with us,” he mutters with a downturned pout. 

It’s like he pauses for a dramatic effect.

The comment causes the atmosphere to only grow a tad bit awkward, the parents sending you weird, subtle glances. Your lips thin in into a purse, though you can’t find it in yourself to be angry. 

Koji shifts his weight again, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a small, almost hesitant smile. “I love my Papa a lot,” he says. “And I know he loves me too.” Another pause. “Even if he’s not here.”

Your heart sinks.

Koji swallows, glancing down at his paper, his fingers curling around it for a long moment. And then, finally, he lifts his head, looking right at you again. “But my mom is here.” The weight of those words settles into your bones, heavy and warm all at once. Koji smiles at you—small, but real.

“And I think that’s enough.”

The silence that follows is almost deafening. Then, the room fills with quiet murmurs, a few soft claps, and a warmth that you can’t quite describe. You laugh out a shaky chuckle, ending the recording. Your son is beaming at you, finished with his presentation. You’re about to clap your hands together and urge him over when suddenly—

“Good job, Koji!”

A shout—one too loud for a classroom—makes everyone break their neck to see where it came from. You jolt, barely having time to look over your shoulder before Koji averts his eyes from you. And if possible, his smile grows wider, eyes twinkling. “Papa!!” he shouts, running over to his father. Gojo is laughing, picking his son up and lifting him into my arms. Koji—ever bright—looks back over at his classmates. “See! I told you! This is my Papa! He’s here! He came!”

Gasps ripple through the room, followed by whispers and excited chatter from the children. Some fathers look over with raised brows, while the teachers exchange glances of both relief and surprise. Gojo, the spectacle he is, stands tall with Koji in his arms, grinning like he just won the lottery. “Of course I came! How could I miss Dad Appreciation Day?” he exclaims, ruffling Koji’s hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I had to see my little guy shine.”

Koji giggles, his small hands clutching at the collar of Gojo’s jacket as if he never wants to let go. His excitement is contagious, his joy so pure that, for a brief moment, you forget the emotional wreck you were about to become. “Did you see me, Papa?!”

“I did, baby. I’m sorry I came late, but I didn’t want to make you nervous. I heard everything.”

“I don’t get nervous, Papa,” he mumbles. Satoru simply laughs, adorning his son with small kisses to his face and neck. Koji giggles, squirming around. 

You, on the other hand, are frozen in place, gripping your phone so tightly your knuckles ache. The air in your lungs feels too thick, like it’s pressing against your ribs. He actually came. You swallow hard, blinking rapidly as Gojo finally looks at you. His gaze lingers on you for just a moment too long. He’s unreadable, but there’s something there—something deeper, something unspoken. “I’m here, I’m here.” He mutters soothingly to Koji, moving to stand beside you as the next kid presents. 

Koji peeks from Satoru’s shoulder, giving you a smile that makes you instantly mirror it. You remind yourself to give his dad a piece of your mind when you have the chance. 

Over time, the group has congregated downstairs to the gymnasium where there’s even more crafts set up, decorations, games, and food.

The gymnasium is bustling with energy, filled with the smell of popcorn, hot dogs, and cotton candy. Banners hang from the rafters, all colorful and festive with slogans like “Dad’s Day Fun!” and “We love our Dads!” The sound of laughter and chatter fills the air, mixed with the occasional clink of a game prize being handed out. Koji tugs at your hand and Satoru’s, practically dragging you guys over to the bounce house, his excitement bubbling over. “Mama! Papa! Look! I wanna jump!” His little feet bounce in place, and his eyes sparkle with anticipation.

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. The light in his eyes as he points to the inflatable structure is enough to make any stress melt away for a moment. As you guide him toward the bounce house, you notice Gojo trailing behind with his usual confidence, though there’s something softer about the way he watches his son.

“Think you can handle it, champ?” Gojo teases, rolling up his sleeves. His voice is playful, but his eyes are warm, focused on Koji as if the world around them doesn’t exist.

Koji, already bouncing inside the inflatable, doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m gonna jump higher than you, Papa!” he exclaims, bouncing with all his might. Gojo chuckles, his shoulders relaxing as he watches the joy in his son’s movements.

You linger at the edge of the bounce house, watching them interact. It’s almost surreal seeing Gojo in this light—happy, relaxed, laughing with his son, and the moment feels so... normal. He’s about to go in when you stop him. “I don’t think it’s meant for the adults.”

He looks back at you, a small pout on his face like he was just denied his favorite candy. “What? So? I don’t mind.”

“Well not you, but the other kids might—”

“You better run, Koji. I’m gonna get you!” he shouts, going right inside the bouncy house. You hear Koji’s excited squeals as he plays with his father inside. From the outside, your eyes stay on the pair and you even see a small part of Gojo that only comes out in certain times. Times where he’s allowed to be a kid again. He has a different kind of glow to him and you’re feeling your isnides begin to stir with warmness, biting back a smile when his boisterous laugh outsounds his son’s. Leave it up to him take over. You sigh and with this time to yourself, you decide to give your feet a rest and let Satoru have his fun with koji. It is technically his day, after all. 

Inside, Koji and Gojo are jumping around, playing a little game of tag and who can jump the highest. Gojo shows off by even doing a front flip for his son, and when Koji tries to imitate it, he promptly stops him. The minutes pass and their skin is beginning to show visible beads of sweat, fashes flushed with excitement. They sit down at one of the corner of the bounce house, Koji rested on top of his father’s lap. Gojo moves some hair out of his face. It’s nice and serene. Koji looks up at Gojo—his father looking down at him with a smile full of love and appreciation. 

Koji bites his lower lip, putting a hand to Gojo’s chest when he turns to face him better. “Papa?”

“Yes, Koji?”

“I have a question.”

“Oh?” Gojo’s eyebrow raises. “Well, please tell me what this question is.”

Koji’s head tilts with a smile. “How did you and Mama meet?” 

Gojo’s face softens, and for a moment, his usual teasing grin disappears. He blinks at the question, caught off guard, but his eyes warm almost immediately as he looks at Koji, who is still sitting in his lap, his little hand still pressed against Gojo’s chest. It’s such an innocent question—so full of curiosity, like Koji is trying to piece together the little story of his parents' lives before he came into the picture.

Gojo leans back slightly, shifting so that he’s more comfortable, one hand still resting on Koji’s back, the other absentmindedly playing with his son’s hair. “How did we meet?” he repeats, the question dancing on his lips as though he’s thinking about it. "Well… that's a bit of a long story, buddy."

Koji looks up at him with big, wide eyes, clearly intrigued. “I wanna hear it,” he says, his voice filled with that earnest excitement that only kids can have.

Gojo looks up in thought. “Well, Mama didn’t really like me at first, but, you know, after a while, we started talking more. And you know what? That’s when things got interesting.” He pauses, looking down at Koji with a fondness that makes the words feel like something deeper. “She went from not liking me at all to us becoming a team.”

Koji seems to contemplate this for a moment, his little brows furrowing as he tries to piece it all together. “So... she didn’t like each other but then she did?” he asks, his voice innocent but inquisitive.

“Exactly,” Gojo says with a smile, gently ruffling Koji’s hair. “Sometimes, it takes time for people to figure each other out. And sometimes, even when you don’t like someone at first, they end up becoming the most important person in your life.”

Koji blinks, his eyes big and wide, as if he’s processing this new information. “Is that how you and Mama became friends first?”

Gojo pauses for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. He glances over at you, and though his expression is playful, there’s a depth to it that can’t be ignored. “You could say that,” he replies, his voice softer now. “We became... something more than friends, though. We became family.”

Koji giggles with elation, leaning in close as if he’s whispering something in his ear. “Did you like Mama at first.”

Gojo matches his son’s laugh, also leaning in. “Oh, buddy. You promise not to tell? It’s a secret.”

“I promise!”

Gojo leans closer to his son, looking around before meeting his eyes. “When I first met Mama…..it was love at first sight.”

Gojo’s walking down the street, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as he’s been forced with flower duty. He grumbled and huffed to his parents about having one of the maids do it, but to no avail. Now he’s stuck trying to find some stupid flower shop that he wouldn’t think twice about coming to if he wasn’t forced. Although he should probably be more sympathetic since he’s literally buying flowers for his grandmother’s gravestone—the grandmother he barely knew. 

As Gojo walks down the street, the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the pavement, and the faint hum of city life surrounds him. He glances up at the sky, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a slight irritation. He hadn’t wanted to do this. He could already feel the weight of his family's expectations pressing down on him, and buying flowers for a woman he barely remembered felt more like a chore than an act of reverence. But, of course, his parents had insisted. His thoughts drift from the task at hand as he walks past cafes and small shops. He knows he's wasting time, dragging his feet, but there's no denying that he feels disconnected from the task. His family had always been about the big picture—the legacy, the power, the status—but moments like these, like honoring someone from his family who passed away when he was too young to remember her, don’t hold much weight for him. Not yet, anyway.

He finally turns the corner and spots the little flower shop at the end of the block. It’s nothing fancy, just a small corner store with an overgrown plant spilling out the door. He adjusts his sunglasses before continuing. The scent of fresh flowers hits him immediately, sharp and sweet, and he exhales slowly, already regretting having to pick out something “appropriate.” He’s not even sure what’s considered appropriate for a grandmother’s gravestone.

As he enters, the soft chime of the doorbell rings above him, and the bell-like sound almost pulls him out of his thoughts.

He’s looking around, senses already overwhelmed. Then, he sees her.

You’re standing behind the counter, a clipboard in your hand, taking inventory of the flowers in front of you. The moment he sees you, everything else fades. You look so absorbed in what you’re doing, the edges of your hair catching the sunlight filtering through the window, and something about the way you stand there, grounded and calm, strikes him deeply. The first thought that crosses his mind is that he’s never seen anyone like you before—someone who seems completely unbothered by the chaos of the world around them. It’s a strange thing—not only because he barely knows you but because he never actually…looks that deeply into people, especially ones he doesn’t know. 

It’s funny, because he's no stranger to beauty—he’s been surrounded by it all his life—but something about you... it's not just physical. There's something about your presence, something about the way you seem perfectly at ease even in a small flower shop, that makes him stop dead in his tracks. His heart skips, and he suddenly feels out of place, like maybe he's not worthy of this peaceful little corner of the world.

“Can I help you?” Your voice is soft, a little melodic, and it makes him blink, pulling him back to the moment.

Gojo runs a hand through his hair, trying to shake the dazed feeling away. Pushing up his glasses and puffing his chest out, his voice lowering in a “manly” way.  “Uh… yeah,” he clears his throat—his tone cracking that makes him want to punch himself.  “I need flowers for a gravestone. My grandmother’s.” He says, his voice a little gruffer than he meant. He’s still trying to make sense of the sudden pull he feels toward you.

You look at him with a small tilt of your head, studying him for a moment, before gesturing to the far side of the store. “We have a few arrangements that are good for that,” you say, walking toward the display.

Gojo follows you, trying to keep his thoughts from wandering. He’s been in a couple of flower shops before, but he feels something different now. He can’t quite pinpoint it, but the longer he’s around you, the more he starts to feel the weight of the moment. It’s almost as if, for once, he’s doing something not for status, not for the family, but just because... well, just because.

“Do you know your grandmother’s favorite flowers?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder.

Gojo blinks, momentarily caught off guard by the question. He hadn’t even considered that. He feels a small pang of guilt. “I don’t know. I didn’t really know her. I was too young when she passed.”

You stop walking and turn to face him, a gentle look in your eyes. “Oh…well…that’s okay. It’s hard to remember people when they leave so early,” you say, your tone warm and understanding.

The kindness in your voice surprises him. Most people don’t look at him like that. He’s used to the mask people put on when they talk to him—the act of politeness, the careful distance. But you? You don’t seem to care that he’s the Gojo heir or that his family’s expectations come with a heavy burden. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in a little flower shop, and it feels... real.

“Maybe something simple, then,” Gojo says, shrugging. “Just something that shows I care or whatever.”

You nod, the softest smile tugging at your lips. “I think we can manage that.”

For the rest of the time, Gojo barely notices the flowers he’s choosing. His eyes keep wandering to you, following the way your hands move as you arrange things, and for the first time in a long time, he finds himself wondering about someone else—not his family, not his future, but you. There’s something intriguing about the way you carry yourself, something that makes him feel like he’s finally met someone who isn’t afraid to see him as more than just the Gojo name.

“You’re really cute,” he randomly blurts out as he’s paying for the lillies. You falter, looking up at him with widened eyes and parted mouth. His eyebrow twitches, internally cursing himself and his fat mouth. “I…I mean….you know. You’re just…your hair and your smile, it’s like…well you’re like…”

You’re still staring at him in silence and the more he’s foolishly stumbling over his words, the more he feels himself grow red. He hurriedly tosses down the change and grabs the bouquet. “Yeah, um…t-thanks.”

You have no time to react before he turns around and practically runs out the door. As he leaves the shop, flowers in hand, he finds himself thinking of you more than he should. It’s a strange feeling, and it makes him question things in a way he never has before. But one thought remains louder than the others: I fumbled!

Koji gasps in awe, completely engrossed in the love story of his parents. “Wow! That sounds like the movies!”

Gojo laughs, ruffling his son’s hair. “Yeah, just like the movies, huh?”

Koji’s smile spreads, satisfied with the answer, and leans back against Gojo’s chest, curling up a little in his father’s lap. “That’s a good story, Papa.”

Gojo chuckles again, pulling Koji closer and resting his chin on top of his son’s head. “Glad you liked it, kiddo.” He pauses for a moment, gazing down at Koji with so much love in his eyes that it’s almost overwhelming. “I’m glad I met your mama, too.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the soft sounds of laughter and the gentle hum of the gymnasium around you. The connection between them is so clear, so perfect in its simplicity. He wonders, for a fleeting second, what it would be like to just let go of everything and let this be enough—this little world where everything feels okay, where the past and its mistakes don’t have to weigh you guys down. He can only dream.

You’ve just stepped out of the bathroom, running a hand through your hair when you bump into Mr. Ito.  You let out a small gasp, startled by the unexpected encounter. Mr. Ito stands in front of you, a warm smile on his face as he adjusts his glasses. "Oh! I didn’t mean to startle you."

"No, it's fine," you say quickly, offering a polite smile. "I was just heading back to the event." You’re still catching your breath from the light rush of running into him so unexpectedly, but the tension begins to ease as he nods in understanding.

“I see you’re enjoying the day,” Mr. Ito says, his smile turning a little more knowing as he glances past you toward the gymnasium. “It’s nice to see the students’ families involved. Especially Koji—he’s such a bright little guy.”

You feel a warmth stir in your chest at the mention of Koji. He’s your world, and hearing others say such kind things about him makes your heart swell. “He is,” you reply softly, your smile genuine.

Mr. Ito follows your line of sight before focusing on you again. “And, how are you today, Ms. Y/N?”

You blink up, putting on a casual smile. “Oh, I’m fine, thank you. And you?”

“Fine now that I’m talking to you.” His attempt at a pickup line falls flat, even with the way he laughs and tries to play it off. You awkwardly chortle back, eyes flickering to the side. “I’m sorry. That was weird of me.”

You wave it off with a light smile, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already are. “It’s okay, Mr. Ito. You didn’t mean anything by it.”

He nods, his grin still a little strained. “I didn’t, no. Just... getting too comfortable, I suppose.”

The silence stretches between you both, and you try to think of something to break it. Your eyes glance back to the gymnasium where Gojo and Koji are still playing, laughing in the distance. For some reason, the sight of them makes you feel a sense of calm amidst the strange encounter with Mr. Ito. He plays with his fingers, visibly debating something before just going for it. “I just…I would…like to get to know you better, Y/N. You know, outside of all this.”

You quietly clear your throat, rubbing the back of your neck. “Mr. Ito, I appreciate that but, you…already know that I don’t reciprocate the same feelings and that…I’d like to keep a boundary between us.”

You notice the way his jaw ticks, eyebrows knitting just the slightest before briefly nodding. 

“And well…” you decide now’s a good time to bring things up. “Koji and I, we’ll be moving. I’m going to start the process of disenrolling him and entering him into the school near our new place. I’ve already talked to him about it and he’s excited.”

Mr. Ito blinks, his expression faltering slightly at your words. It’s clear that the news has caught him off guard, though he quickly masks it with a tight smile. “I see. Well, I suppose that’s... good for you two. A fresh start, huh?”

You nod, trying to keep the conversation as neutral as possible. “Yeah. It’s been a long time coming. I think it’ll be a better environment for Koji, too. New opportunities, new surroundings.”

The air between you both feels heavier now, the tension thickening with the revelation. You can tell Mr. Ito’s thoughts are churning, and though he’s trying to keep it composed, it’s clear he didn’t expect to hear this today. He takes a breath, and when he speaks again, his tone is much quieter. “I understand, Y/N. I really do.” He pauses, seeming to weigh his next words carefully. “But... if you ever change your mind, or if you need anything—someone to talk to—please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d like to help if I can. I’ll miss you both.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach, but you force a polite smile, trying to smooth over the uncomfortable edge of the conversation. “Thank you, Mr. Ito. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He turns for a second before facing you again, his smile looking a little more forced.  “But if you’d like to join me for some Italian food. I know this place downtown and they—”

“I love Italian food.”

You gasp lightly, jolting when Satoru’s voice seemingly appears out of nowhere, but so does the hand on your hip, almost hovering but still close enough to keep you tethered to his side. “What time?” He smiles, looking at the other man with faux sweetness. 

Mr. Ito shifts uneasily, clearly taken aback by Satoru’s sudden appearance and the casual intimacy of his hand on your hip. His gaze flickers between the two of you, his smile faltering as he clears his throat. “Well, I was actually inviting her,” he points out, his tone polite but edged with tension.

“I could tell, but I’m inviting myself.” Satoru smoothly replies, eyebrow tilting up. 

Mr. Ito looks at you now, holding back a frown. Your mouth opens and closes, the words caught in your throat as you try to process the whirlwind that is Satoru Gojo. “I—”

“We have plans tonight,” he continues, not giving you a chance to object. “In fact, we always have plans, don’t we? Because I love Italian food too.” He pats your hip lightly, the gesture both possessive and reassuring, chuckling. 

Mr. Ito clears his throat, straightening up a bit as if that will make him on par with Gojo. “I’m sorry, but I’m speaking to Ms. Y/N and Ms. Y/N only.”

“And I’m speaking to you, Mr….oh sorry, I forgot your name. What was it again?”

The dynamic between you three feels tense with awkwardness and unsaid feelings. You notice the tick of Satoru’s jaw along with the furrow of Mr. Ito’s eyebrows. Jesus Christ. 

Satoru told his head in a condescending way. “But hey, don’t let me stop you from recommending your favorite Italian spot. We’re always open to new places.”

“Well, look at that,” Mr. Ito replies, his smile slowly dropping. “You are stopping me, in fact.” 

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“I don’t see why you would.”

“The same goes for you.”

“You’re quite a rude man, you know that?”

“And you’re a pushy one. So what do you plan on doing about it?”

The air is charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You feel like a bystander caught in the middle of a brewing storm, watching as Gojo and Mr. Ito exchange sharp words like blows in an unseen battle for dominance. Mr. Ito lets out a breath, forcing a tight smile again. “I don’t see why this concerns you, Mr. Gojo.”

Satoru chuckles, the sound light but laced with something darker. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. It concerns me a whole lot when it involves my family.” His hand, still resting at your hip, presses slightly—not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to remind you he’s there, standing firm.

Mr. Ito’s jaw tightens. “I was just extending an invitation. Didn’t realize she needed a chaperone.”

Gojo tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “Chaperone? Nah. I just don’t like guys who don’t know how to take no for an answer.” His smile widens, all teeth, as he leans in just slightly. “Kinda pathetic, don’t you think?”

You barely hold in your sigh.

Mr. Ito straightens, his jaw tensing. “It’s not pathetic to be persistent.”

“It is when it’s unwanted.”

His words are casual, but the weight behind them is anything but. You can feel it—the shift in the air, the growing hostility masked beneath their polite tones. Mr. Ito glances at you, searching for something, but you’re too drained to entertain whatever game he thinks he’s playing. So, you decide to end it. “Mr. Ito,” you interject, your voice firm but measured. “I appreciate the offer, but my answer is the same. I’d really like to keep things professional.”

There’s a beat of silence before Mr. Ito exhales through his nose, forcing a nod. “Understood.” His eyes flicker to Gojo once more before he nods. “Take care, Y/N.”

With that, he turns and walks off, tension still lingering in his wake.

Gojo clicks his tongue, watching him go. “Man, some people really don’t know when to quit.”

You shake your head, exhaling. “Was that necessary?”

“Absolutely,” Gojo grins, turning to you. “Did you see the way his eye twitched? Best part of my day.”

Your voice lowers and sharpens. “You can’t just be rude like that. What even was that?”

“That,” he replies, stepping back just enough to put a safe distance between you but keeping that infuriating grin, “was me saving you from an awkward dinner with Mr. Boring over there.”

“Saving me?” you repeat, incredulous. “I didn’t need saving. I could’ve handled it. And besides,” you walk back over to where Koji is playing with his friends in the bouncy house. “Maybe I would’ve said yes.”

“Don’t even say that,” he quickly follows.

“Why not?”

You look at him, his lips purse like he’s about to say anything. Giving you a quick scan up and down before deciding against it—sighing and running a hand through his hair. You peer away, down at your feet. A small pause stretches between you two before he’s speaking. “Listen,” he starts, voice tentative. “I…I think we should talk…about you know.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Suguru already talked to me.”

“Not just about that, Y/N.”

“Then what else, Satoru?” you turn your head to him. “What else could we possibly have to talk about? We have nothing to talk about unless it involves Koji, and right now—it’s supposed to be a good day. I’d rather not air out everything today—especially right here.”

Gojo exhales through his nose, his jaw tightening as he watches you. His usual playful expression is nowhere to be found, replaced by something quieter—something raw. “You always do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“Do what?” You cross your arms, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Shut me out.” His voice isn’t accusatory, but there’s something heavy in it, something that makes your throat tighten.

You shake your head, willing yourself to keep your emotions in check. “I’m not shutting you out, Satoru. I just—” You pause, exhaling sharply before glancing back at Koji. He’s still playing, oblivious to the weight of the conversation happening just a few feet away. “I just don’t want to ruin today for him.”

Gojo studies you for a moment, then sighs. He steps closer—not enough to be overwhelming, but enough that you can see the sincerity in his expression. “I get it,” he says softly. “I do. But this…this thing between us? It’s not going away just because we pretend it doesn’t exist.”

Your fingers curl into your sleeves, nails pressing against the fabric. “And what do you want me to do about that?”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, but there’s no humor in it. “I don’t know. Maybe just…let me in. For once.”

Your heart clenches at his words, but before you can respond, Koji calls out to you both, waving excitedly from the bouncy house. The moment shatters like glass, and you turn away, forcing a smile as you wave back. “Not today, Satoru,” you whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I’ve already made that mistake, I’m not doing it again.”

He watches you for a beat longer before stepping back, his expression unreadable. “Alright,” he finally says, his voice light but laced with something else—something aching. “I won’t push you.”

You say nothing in response, rubbing your forearms slowly as if to comfort yourself from a dreaded conversation with your ex—one that is most likely long overdue. But you’d like to prolong it even more, if that’s even saying anything. His arm is brushing against yours as you watch your son socialize freely with his peers. 

“I…” you inhale deeply. “Koji and I are taking the place. The one you…got us for Christmas. I’ll be switching schools for him.”

Gojo is quiet for a moment, his head tilting slightly as he processes your words. Then, his lips quirk up in a small, almost bittersweet smile. “So you finally decided to accept my gift.”

You nod, exhaling softly. “It’s what’s best for Koji.”

His smile falters just a little, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he glances over at your son, who’s laughing, tumbling around in the bouncy house without a care in the world. “It’s a good place,” he says after a pause. “Safe. Quiet. He’ll like it.”

You hug your arms around yourself. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

Another pause stretches between you both, filled only by the distant chatter of parents and the delighted screams of children. Then Gojo shifts, turning his body slightly toward you. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmurs. “I won’t push you. But you don’t have to do everything alone, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You swallow, not trusting yourself to look at him. Because if you do, you might see everything you’ve been trying so hard to ignore—the sincerity, the regret, the quiet longing that lingers beneath his usual nonchalance.  Instead, you nod stiffly. “I know.”

Gojo watches you for a beat longer before finally sighing, stepping back and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Alright,” he says, his tone shifting to something lighter, though you can tell it’s forced. “Then let’s just enjoy today, yeah?”

You nod again, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Because the truth is—you don’t know if you believe him.

“Mama! Papa!” Koji shouts from inside. “Daniel wants to know why you don’t sleep in the same bed!”

Gojo and you simultaneously stiffen. Damn kids and their questions. 

The rest of the day is filled with laughter, Gojo trying to show off his muscles—that you would never agree he actually has—for Koji’s friends because his son loves to brag more than his old man. They even did face painting, you opted to get just a small flower on your cheek instead of the extravagant intricacies your husband—ex—adorn. Even for the parts where Koji is meant to discuss how awesome his father is, he always makes sure to mention you too. Even dragging you up to the front with Gojo and him as he had prepared a small song to sing. Gojo is helping his son belt out while you awkwardly clapped along. But just as there’s activities, food shared, and more of Koji bragging about his dad, so is there the…uncomfortable moments.

“Mama and Papa don’t hold hands.”

“Mama and Papa don’t kiss.”

“Papa always stares at Mama’s butt when she’s not looking!”

“My Mama and Papa don’t have pretty rings that match.”

Unfortmnately for you, your son loves to air out your dirty business not just to his friends, but practically everyone in attendance.

Your entire body tenses at Koji’s latest declaration, your face heating instantly. A few parents nearby stifle their laughter behind their hands, while others exchange amused glances. You slowly turn to look at Gojo, who—of course—is completely unfazed, grinning like the little menace he’s always been.

“Koji,” you start, voice strained, “why don’t you, uh…go get another balloon animal?”

“But I already have three,” Koji says, tilting his head in confusion.

“Get a fourth,” you deadpan.

Gojo, ever the opportunist, crouches beside your son and stage-whispers, “It’s okay, buddy. Mama’s just shy.”

You jab an elbow into his side—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to wipe the smug look off his face. He lets out an exaggerated oof, clutching his ribs dramatically.

“See?!” Koji gasps, pointing. “Mama hits Papa, too!”

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands as laughter erupts around you.

Gojo, the shameless man that he is, only laughs in delight, ruffling Koji’s hair as if his son had just won a medal instead of exposing him in front of half the playground. “But what can I say?” he grins, utterly unbothered. “Your mama’s got a nice—”

“Satoru,” you hiss, slapping a hand over his mouth before he can finish that sentence in front of a group of impressionable children. His laughter muffles against your palm, but his eyes are twinkling with mischief, completely unfazed by the judgmental glances of nearby parents.

Koji, however, looks incredibly pleased with himself, puffing out his chest. “See? I told you guys!” he exclaims to his friends, who are giggling amongst themselves. “Papa’s always looking at Mama when she’s not paying attention.”

You groan, feeling your face heat up as some parents whisper behind their hands, clearly entertained. You shoot a glare at Gojo, who simply winks at you. “Maybe because she’s so pretty,” he muses, finally prying your hand off his mouth.

“Maybe because you’re a perv,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms.

Gojo gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like you just stabbed him. “Such cruel accusations! In front of our child, no less!”

Koji tugs at your sleeve, looking up at you with the pure innocence only a child can possess. “Mama, if you and Papa love each other, why don’t you kiss like Riku’s parents do?”

The question makes your stomach flip, and you freeze. You don’t dare look at Gojo, but you can feel the way his playful demeanor stills beside you. It’s the question neither of you have the heart to answer. And suddenly, despite the afternoon sun and the laughter all around, a chill settles over your spine.

Yeah, maybe you should’ve better prepared yourself for today.

It’s around three in the afternoon now, Koji absolutely spent but still happily holds onto his parents’ hands, skipping between them.  You walk with Gojo, the weight of the day’s events starting to settle in your bones, but the soft thump of Koji’s little feet on the ground as he hops along distracts you from your thoughts. You glance at Gojo, who’s keeping his stride slow enough to match Koji’s, his usual playful grin replaced with a quieter, more pensive expression. There’s something about this moment—the three of you together—that feels different, almost like a perfect, fleeting snapshot of a family that could have been.

Koji pulls ahead slightly, his excitement bubbling over. He twirls in a circle, hands stretched out as if trying to catch the wind, before looking back at you both with a grin that could light up the whole park. “Come on, slowpokes!” he teases, clearly proud of his energy and his ability to keep going while his parents trail behind.

You exchange a brief glance with Gojo, the weight of unsaid words passing between you in the shared quiet of that look. There’s a softness in his gaze as he watches Koji, everything feels... almost okay. Almost like it’s parallel universe. But then the tug of reality creeps in again, the reminder of everything you’ve been through together—everything that’s still left unsaid.

“Koji, slow down!” you call, but there’s no real urgency in your voice. It’s more out of habit than concern. You’re just trying to hold onto this small moment a little longer, even if you know it can’t last forever.

The smile that spreads across Gojo’s face as he watches his son is genuine, warm—almost too warm, as if he’s trying to convince himself that this is enough, that the weight of what’s been lost won’t ever overshadow what’s still here. “I can’t believe how much energy you have left in you, buddy,” Gojo says, catching up with Koji as he spins around again, arms flailing with childish abandon.

“I’m just getting started!” Koji says, laughing as if he’s truly invincible in this moment, in this place. You can’t help but smile at the sight of him—happy, carefree, completely unaware of the tension that’s simmering just beneath the surface of this picture-perfect scene.

Gojo looks at you again, a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips. “You know, I didn’t think I’d ever get to do this. Be here with you. With him.” His voice is quiet, almost too quiet for you to hear over the distant chatter of other families still enjoying the day. But you hear it. You feel it.

You offer him a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, well, we’ve got him now.”

And for a fleeting moment, it feels like that’s all that matters.

You’re all walking back to Gojo’s car, the other parents and children doing the same. Engrossed in Koji’s raving about how fun today was—Gojo and you nodding along and smiling at his pure happiness with a parental love. 

“Where is she?!”

A sudden shout pulls all of your attention, your grip tightening around Koji’s hand as Satoru pulls him closer to you both. The sudden shout cuts through the air like a knife, sharp and frantic, snapping you out of the bubble you’d been enveloped in. Your footsteps slow down as in the distance, there’s a small huddle of people formed—it looks like there’s something or someone in the middle of it. 

Your feet stop, the world around you slowing. The shout wasn’t one of joy or excitement—it was filled with desperation, and that alone sends a shiver down your spine. Your eyes shift to the distance where the sound originated. There’s a huddle of people formed, clustered around in a small circle formation, it almost seems like... a commotion. You can’t make out the details yet, but something feels off, something heavy about the way the crowd is gathered, their heads bobbing in quick movements as if trying to see over something or someone.

Koji tilts his head. “What’s happening?”

But neither Gojo or you have a response for that. How could you when the crowd parts ever so slightly and you see a head of jet black hair. Your eyes widen, body freezing as every single hair on your body jolts up. You feel stuck, hand trembling around your son’s hand—a breath feeling like it’s too much work. The world around you shifts into a blur as the air seems to thicken, each step feeling like it’s dragging you deeper into the unknown. 

You don’t know how long you stand there, unable to move, unable to process. The sound of Koji’s voice, his soft tug on your hand, feels distant now, muffled by the pounding of your heart in your ears. Your eyes remain locked on the figure in the crowd, the jet-black hair unmistakable. Your breath hitches in your throat, a tightness constricting your chest. It’s impossible. You blink, trying to make sense of the situation, but every time you do, she’s still there.

It’s like you’ve somehow reverted back to your child self, staring in complete shock and utter fear at what your mother’s reaction would be to a vase you accidentally broke. You see it happening—it’s all moving too slowly for you and you’re suddenly praying for a hole to swallow. Except when her head turns and you’re greeted with a face you haven’t seen in years—aged but undeniably recognizable—she doesn’t greet you with a deadly sneer. No. 

Her eyes light up, face controting into a wide smile that you don’t think—no, you know—she has never given you. And as soon as she sees you, she’s pushing her way through people without a second thought—even the children.

You have no time to react.

“My daughter! My sweet, sweet daughter!” she exclaims with a happiness that doesn’t feel real, it never does. The minute her arms wrap around you in a tight hug, you think you’re suffocating. 

“I’ve missed you! Did you miss your mother too, Y/N?”

taglist is now closed

taglist: @celestialforce @theclassbookworm @tbzzluvr @uhenivid @ofkilljoysandslytherins

@sadmonke @bunheadusa @shartnart1 @lady-of-blossoms @itsinherited

@duooy @ari-sa @dakotali @mew4-ever18 @iv-vee

@devils-blackrose @a-girl-with-thoughts @bitchycloudstrawberry @tiffyisme3760 @iheartshopping

@chiara-hotel @uriahs-barn @celloccino @roronoazorosbxtchh @pseudophyllus

@ratedrrrr @m1gota @tojideckmuncher @yoriichitsugikunii @sukunaslve

@eiizabeth-torres @cherrythiccums0 @satorustorm @zoeyflower @username23345

@i0313z @gourdlorddgubes @partypoison00 @quinnyundertow @sorilyae

@redzscare @aldebrana @nycmagi @s4ikooo1 @dreaming-lis @gigiiiiislife

@dickktektive @miss-dior @miakxn @rjreins

[im-yn-suckers]

ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ? ✧˖° bf!riki x gf!reader ✧˖° tw: kissies, cuddles, mention of stress, reader is said to be short but that could literally js mean shorter than him, and only sorta maybe perhaps a little kinda self indulgent bc i want a riki ^^ a little disclaimer: idk if riki listens to all of these, as they just come off of my playlist !

your desk is covered in pens, pencils, sticky notes and other supplies. ah yes, another paper, but this time you finished in time. previously you were worrying about getting in on time and if you did it right. will the professor think its good? will i get a good grade? i hope i didnt mess up

all of these thoughts crowded your mind for days maybe even weeks. it brought you tears and pride. the final paper you so horridly dreaded now turned in as you leave your desk, not bothering to clean it up. you walk over to your bf, who was busy playing league on the couch, that filled up, almost, the entire room.

you plop down next to him, leaning on his shoulder. his scent intoxicating you, god, how you missed it for the last 3 hours. "you done pretty girl?" he asks, though not looking down, too focused on his game. you only nod. minutes pass and youre still cuddled up to him. soon enough, he turns the tv off and turns toward you, fully sideways. he lets himself fall back onto the couch, allowing you to fall w him.

a giggle leaves his pretty lips, as you fall on top of him. the couch cant fit the both of you so he improvised. you lay your head on his shoulder, almost his clavicle. you lightly peck the skin-exposed by his black hoodie-covered by pretty moles. "youre squishing me!" "shhh this was all you" he sighs in defeat. "lets go to the bed then" you sigh, not wanting to move.

on the bed, you two lay on your backs, close together. something about his calm presence when you two are in bed, ready to fall asleep, is so comforting. maybe it was his scent, as mentioned, its intoxicating, almost dizzying. or maybe his giant figure next to yours, offering a sense of protection. maybe his soft breaths as he lays down, scrolling tiktok, not quite ready to sleep, yet.

"baby, baby!" he perks up, seeing a video "hm?" you respond, on the verge of falling asleep. your eyelids droopy. "lets make a playlist and take turns adding songs!" you giggle as you hear the idea, finding it quite endearing. you nod in agreement. he opens his laptop and pulls up spotify.

tapping the plus, he creates a new playlist. "what should we name it?" he asks, trying to complete the first step. "mmmm idk, something short but cute" he types in your name to tease you. "hey!" "what?? you said short and cute!" he deletes the name, trying to think of a new one.

"wait! ki! yk the song tell my momma by kard?" you have an idea, hoping its a good one. "uhm i know OF it, why?" "how bout we put 'ill do anything to make our love last long'?" you suggest a long but sweet lyric "baby, thats corny" "so is making a playlist tgt" silence. "ugh ig ure right" you giggle and he puts down the lyric.

"ok songs, you add one first" he pushes the laptop your way and you think for a moment you add the first song, every kind of way by h.e.r, he smiles seeing the song. he takes his turn "where is love" by 3house. your turn again, "wa-r-r" by colde. his turn again, "someone like u" by lullaboy "infranumi" by steve lacy, "pink+white" by frank ocean. "seasons" by wave to earth, "3:00 am" by finding hope it goes back and forth adding songs and laughing

once you two finish, he shuts the laptop, reaching over to set it down. he turns to his side to grab you and pull you close to him. his arms wrapping around you. he presses a little kiss to your lips saying goodnight.

[afterglowsainz]

oscar piastri & 3 🧡

did i fall out of line when i called you? | oscar piastri

song; mess it up - gracie abrams

part of the spotify wrapped special

Every time Oscar got too close, he messed it up.

But it was okay; you forgave him because he was Oscar. Oscar, who had commitment issues. Oscar, who was trying hard to have a lasting relationship with you. Oscar, who loved you deeply. But you also knew he was Oscar, who couldn’t have something good without ruining it.

The day he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you said yes, he went to a club to celebrate and ended up fighting a man who had simply asked you where the bathroom was, thinking the man was flirting with you. He ended the night with a split eyebrow and a broken nose.

The day he was supposed to meet your parents, he got so nervous that he drank too much whiskey and fell asleep, missing lunch with your parents and disappointing you in the process.

The first time you went to watch one of his races in person, anxiety got the best of him, and he didn’t pick you up on the way to the airport, using the excuse that he “forgot.” You knew he hadn’t forgotten—he had simply chickened out and was too coward to admit the truth.

Still, you forgave him every time.

It was just a few hours were left until an event McLaren was hosting with one of its sponsors, and Oscar had begged you to accompany him. It didn’t take much convincing for you to agree. But something felt off; something didn’t feel right.

When Oscar suddenly stopped replying to your messages, you got worried. Early in the relationship, it happened more often—he wasn’t used to having a girlfriend, so he wasn’t used to replying to messages. It was one of the many conversations where you had to remind him that you didn’t care if he didn’t reply instantly; you knew he was a busy man. But he couldn’t go four days without responding and then show up as if nothing had happened. After that talk, his communication improved.

With less than thirty minutes left before your boyfriend was supposed to pick you up for the event, and no sign of him, you knew—without him even saying it—that he had once again changed his mind about taking you, and you wouldn’t be attending the event that night. You looked at your reflection in the mirror: the beautiful long white dress you had bought specifically for the occasion and the elegant silver jewelry adorning your neck—all for nothing.

When it became obvious Oscar wasn’t coming, you took everything off, put on your pajamas, crawled under the covers, and turned on your computer to watch a movie. At some point during the night, you checked Instagram and came across the worst thing you could’ve seen. A video of your boyfriend at the event’s afterparty, dancing with a girl who was definitely not you.

Technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong—he hadn’t kissed her or slept with her. But the feeling of betrayal consumed you entirely and settled deep inside.

It was over.

Months had passed since the breakup, and Oscar couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were his favorite thought whenever he didn’t have to use his brain power—while waiting in line for coffee, while driving from home to the MTC, when turning off the lights and trying to sleep. He thought about you and how much he missed you.

He knew there were many things you had forgiven him for that you didn’t have to. And he also knew that the one thing you hadn’t forgiven him for was what he regretted the most. Nothing had happened with the girl in the video—they’d only danced a couple of songs. But afterward, he felt dirty and missed you.

When he arrived at your place, he was shocked to see you crying and then shocked at how quickly your tears turned into angry shouts. You ended things, throwing him out of your apartment.

But tonight, he couldn’t sleep. He wanted to hear your voice and see you. He knew if he showed up at your place, you wouldn’t open the door. So, he settled for the second-best thing and called you.

Did he cross the line? Was it too soon? He knew the answer was yes when you didn’t answer his call. And when he called again, it went straight to voicemail.

The third-best thing, then.

Oscar opened your chat, the one he had neglected far too often but now couldn’t stop staring at, remembering the goodnight messages you used to send him and the ones wishing him luck in his races.

“I know I wasn’t a good boyfriend at all, and I know I don’t deserve you in any way, but I miss you. You made me a better person and a better man. I know every time something good happened between us, I managed to ruin it one way or another, and I’m truly sorry. But I also feel like if you let me back in, we can make it better. I can do better. I’ve improved my habits, and I’ve pulled myself back together. I’m so sorry for all the times I hurt you. I want to show you I’m not the same person as before. Please, give me one more chance.

I love you.”

Send.

[yeonzzzn]

🌷rose petals: park jongseong

part two of the no limits duology / the limits series

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 10.8k

synopsis: life with jay (along with his four roommates and his nice) couldn’t be better. it was everything you wished for and more, even if the apartment is always in chaos. as your relationship runs deeper, jay is stuck between some important decisions.

genre: established relationship, uncle!jay, blonde!jay, restaurant owner!jay, flower shop owner!reader, smut

warnings: swearing, alcohol, overprotective jay, multiple unprotected sex scenes, breeding kink, daddy kink, semi public sex in a bathroom, dry humping, fingering, hair pulling, MINORS DNI!!!

✰ this is a spin-off to the main series, please read off limits / part one to this spin-off before reading this one. they are tagged under the title ✰

•·.·no limits spotify playlist'·.·•

“Shhh!!” Jay hissed, covering his hand over your mouth, “You need to be quiet!” Jay halted his movement, pressing his cock as deep as it could go while kissing your cervix, “You need to be quiet for daddy, ya?” 

You nodded your head, slipping your tongue into his palm and licking over towards his fingers. 

He quietly moaned, pinching your tongue between his fingers and then shoving them into your mouth, “Suck,” he demanded, letting out another quiet moan at the feeling of your mouth wrapping perfectly around his fingers. 

Jay was so close to cumming, wanting nothing more than to shoot his load into you, to breed the fuck out of your pretty pussy. How could he not want that? Not when you look so sexy in this pretty blue dress of yours. If this dress wasn’t for his sister's wedding, he’d be tearing it into pieces. 

Jay took a handful of your hair and pulled you off the bathroom counter he had you bent over against, keeping your back pressed tightly to his chest as he fucked into you harder and faster, his lips connecting to your ear, “Gonna cum so deep in this cunt. Breed the hell out of it. It’s mine. All mine.” 

You kept sucking on his fingers, your free hand gripping the counter in front of you, holding on for dear life as your boyfriend’s thrusts got sloppy, his breaths becoming uneven as he chased after his orgasm. 

“I’m cumming,” he breathed out, his hand in your hair falling to your breast, tightly squeezing, “Oh fuck I’m cumming baby.” One final thrust, and his seed painted your walls white, making it the perfect painting. 

Jay bent you back over the counter, continuing his slow thrusts to ride out his high, using your cunt to milk him completely. Once he had his fill, he slowly pulled out and pulled down your dress, giving your ass a quick squeeze before readjusting his pants. 

You stood up straight as best as you could, fixing your hair in the mirror, “Seongie, you better be lucky you didn’t mess up my hair too much.” 

Jay smirked, pressing his chest against your back, leaning his head on your shoulder, “Better watch that tone, I’ll fuck you up so hard back at your apartment tonight.” 

You roll your eyes playfully and lean back into him, loving the way he instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, “It wouldn’t be me to beat your ass for messing up my hair, it would be your sister.” 

Jay laughed, “Yeah, she would,” Jay twisted you around to face him, his gentle hands pushing your hair behind your ears, “You’re so beautiful.” 

You stood on your tip toes and gave him a quick kiss, “We should be going.” 

He nodded, “Yeah,” he said with a sigh, “Let’s go watch my baby sister get married to my best friend.” 

To say Jay was a mess during the wedding would be an understatement. He stood to Jake’s left as his best man, with Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Shotaro to the left of him, while you being the maid of honor and standing off to his sister’s right, with some of her old college friends to your right. 

It was a beautiful wedding, and it took Sunghoon everything to hold Jay back once Jake and __ had their first kiss as husband and wife. Jay will always be that protective big brother through and through. Once their first kiss was over, little Hwa jumped off her grandmother's lap and rushed over to her parents, arms stretched out and her giggles filling the venue. Jay almost crumbled to the floor at how adorable his niece was. 

After the venue cleared out and all the wedding photos were taken, it was time for the reception. 

“Ughhhh” Jake groaned, shoving a spoonful of food into his mouth, “This food is so fucking good.” 

Jay raised a brow, “Yeah because my restaurant catered your wedding? Obviously, the food is going to be good.” 

Jake was too much in heaven with the food orgasm he was having to worry about making a smart remark to his best friend and just kept chewing away at his food. 

__ crossed her arms over her chest, watching her new husband, “Maybe you should have married my brother instead by the way you’re eating his food.” 

Jay chuckled and pulled you closer to him, “Nah you can keep him stinks.” 

Jake swallowed the food and set the plate down, smiling so brightly at his wife, “Baby, I promise to eat you out so good later tonight don’t you worry.” 

“Dude,” Heeseung said, scrunching his nose, “I don’t want to know about the sexual activities that are going to take place tonight.” 

“Agreed,” Sunghoon, who was also scrunching his nose, said as he raised his beer bottle to his lips, “Thank god we don’t have to listen to it tonight.” 

Jake flipped each of his friends off but then landed his eyes on Jay and you, pointing his index finger at the two of you, “You guys act like you’re safe with these two will more than likely be doing the exact same thing.” 

Jay swatted Jake’s pointer finger away, “I’m staying at her apartment tonight, you lot won’t be hearing shit from us tonight.” 

Heeseung and Sunghoon quickly high-fived at the fact of having the apartment alone for once. Jake’s parents will be having Hwa at their house tonight, so Heeseung and Sunghoon will definitely have the apartment to themselves. 

You smiled at your friends, watching how each of them now trailed off into different conversations. Watching how Jay kept picking fun at Jake, and __ picking fun at her brother. Heeseung and Sunghoon eventually joined in, the five of them showing and proving once more that some friendships won’t ever end. 

It made you want to cry, not out of sadness, but pure happiness. They all grew up together and it warms your heart knowing that they all were soulmates in this life and probably every life after this one. 

Sunghoon took a quick glance at you, “Hey, YN!” his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, “Why are you standing alone, come over here!” 

Jake and __ both reached a hand out to grab both your wrists, “You’re very much a part of this family,” Jake said, giving you a wink and looking over at Jay as they pulled you into the circle, “No need to be standing by yourself.” 

“Exactly!” __ said in agreement. Heeseung wrapped an arm around your shoulder and Sunghoon stood behind you where you and Heeseung connected and pulled the two of you closer to him with his arms around you both. 

“You’re with our Jonggie,” Heeseung teased, “Hwa calls you her aunt, you’re in this family whether you like it or not.” 

You smiled at each of them, giving a nod. Words couldn’t describe how loved you felt at this moment. Jay couldn’t take his eyes off you, loving how big your smile was and loving how much his friends—his family—adored you. “Okay, okay!” he finally spoke up, shooting Heeseung and Sunghoon off you, “Lemme have my girlfriend.” 

Jay pulled you to him and into a kiss. The sounds of everyone around the two of you making fake gagging noises, “Nah, I don’t wanna hear it!” Jay said, trying to act annoyed but his smile being the tell-all, “Not when Jake can’t keep his lips off my baby sister!” 

More banter started up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The reception finally came to an end and it was time to see off the bride and groom, which Jay was an even worse mess with. He finally let go of the tears he’d held in during the wedding and let them fall. 

“She’s all grown up,” Jay said in a whisper, watching with fond eyes as Jake and __ climbed into their car to head off to their hotel for the night, “It’s so hard to believe after growing up together that she’s a mother and married to one of my best friends.” 

You hugged your boyfriend tightly. You’d say you understood how he felt, but you didn’t, being the only child and all. 

“Jay,” you whispered, kissing his cheek and wiping away his tears, “Jake will take care of her, he always has, hasn’t he?” 

Jay looks down at you, his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter. He knew Jake would take care of his sister. In a silly way, it’s true, Jake always took care of her. They were made for each other, that’s for sure. So he nods at you, smiling at you, “Let’s get out of here, I’m ready to get you out of this dress.” 

—

Jake stood in the kitchen, staring Jay down. His arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

“Stop looking at me like that!” Jay snapped, “What’s your problem?” Jay just wanted to enjoy the french toast he made for breakfast. You were already halfway done eating yours, being completely unfazed by Jake’s glare. 

“I don’t have a problem,” Jake said with a tilt of his head, “Just that Heeseung’s birthday is coming up and so is Halloween.” 

Jay scoffed and took a bite out of his breakfast, “And?” 

“Annnddddd,” Jake dragged out, “We should go to a Halloween party and celebrate his birthday.” 

Jay dropped his toast back on the plate, “And where the hell is this party then, huh?” Jay shook his head, “Who is going to watch Hwa?” 

Jake smirked, “Taro and his friends would be throwing the party. And I’d ask my parents or yours to watch my baby girl.” 

You raised a brow, “So this party isn’t even planned yet? Isn’t Heeseung's birthday next week?” 

Jake shrugged, “Still a work in progress.” 

“What is?” speak of the devil and he shall appear. Heeseung walks into the kitchen with a tub of ice cream, “What are we working in progress?” 

“Your birthday and Halloween party,” Jay said, earning another glare from Jake, “What?” 

“It was supposed to be a secret!” Jake snapped, cocking his head to the side, facial expression tensed. 

“Damn,” Jay took a deep breath, “You look like you just murdered someone, giving me that look and shit.” Jake’s eyes widened and his lips curled into a smile, “Stop that! You look creepy!” Jay scrunched his nose, reaching back for his toast. 

“I know what I should be for Halloween!” Jake nearly shouted, “I can be a ghost face!” 

Heeseung was the one scrunching his nose now, “Have fun with that buddy.” 

“Anyway,” Jake said, putting his attention on Heeseung, “What do you think?” 

Heeseung took another bite of his ice cream, “Already got plans.” 

“Huh?” Both Jay and Jake said in unison, looking over at their eldest friend, “What do you mean?” 

Heeseung shrugged, “I’m getting laid that night. Meeting up with an old flame from college.” 

You tried to not laugh, not knowing if Heeseung was being serious or not, but by the looks on Jay and Jake’s faces said very well that Heeseung wasn’t joking.  

“Dude,” Jake whined, “Just bring her to the party.” 

Heeseung glanced up at the ceiling, “Hmmm, nah. Have fun though!” 

Heeseung turned and walked off to his room, Jake following behind like a lost puppy trying to convince his friend for the party. 

Jay chuckled, “Some things never change.”

You finished your last bite of your toast, “Has Jake always been a partier?” 

Jay shrugged, “Yes and no. It was worse the first year of college, but as the time went off it was just a weekend type thing to every other weekend. Then he started dating my sister and it became less and less. Now it’s once in a blue moon.” 

You nodded, it sounded about right. For the almost two years you’ve been dating Jay, the six of you only attended maybe a total of four parties? It wasn’t a lot. 

“He’ll get over it,” Jay said, finally being able to dig into his breakfast, “Wait was Heeseung eating ice cream for breakfast?!” 

You giggled, whipping off some powder from your boyfriend’s lip, “He was up all night playing video games, I don’t think he’s slept yet.” 

And now Jay was on his feet and rushing towards Heeseung’s room to force the man to bed. You leaned your elbows onto the table, it’s never a boring day here in the Parks/Lee/Sim household. 

—

Jay peeked into the window of your flower shop, his smile big as he saw you at the counter. Your long hair was tied back into a perfect bun with small strands at each side of your face. You had the sleeves of your shirt rolled up above your elbows and your tan apron tied nicely at your waist, your blue jeans covered in dirt from plants and soil. 

You had a focused smile as you arranged a rose bouquet for a client. 

Jay tapped on the window, bringing your attention to him. Your smile grew more, tilting your head to tell him to come inside. You watched him with endearment as he walked in, holding a plastic bag, “Left the restaurant early today, thought we could have lunch together.” 

You wiggled your brows at him, “Whatchu make me?” 

He placed the bag on the counter, leaning his forearms against the wood and tipping over the counter to connect his lips to yours in a quick kiss, “Roasted lemon chicken breast with mashed potatoes and corn.” 

You leaned over the counter now, pressing your lips to his and taking the bag, “My favorite!” 

He leaned on his elbows, “I know. Trust me, I know my baby.” 

Your hands couldn’t pull out the foam boxes quick enough, you were starving. Your boyfriend chuckles at your impatience, “Here,” he said, taking the bag and to-go boxes from you, “Go wash your hands, I’ll set it all up.” 

In a flash you returned with clean hands, ready to dig into your meal. To say you were blessed to be dating a man who can cook would be an understatement. Words weren’t enough. 

You both ate, devouring the meal as if it were your last. You sign and pat your tummy, “That hit the spot.” 

 “My cooking always does,” he flashed you his famous smile, gathering up the trash. 

You returned your focus back to the rose bouquet, “I am guessing it was slow today?” 

Jay completely leaned against the counter, eyes watching your hands work against the roses, “Pretty much. Yunjin practically shoved me out the door saying she could handle everything.” 

You giggled at your best friend's behavior, “That sounds like her.” 

Jay trailed his eyes up to your face, his heart rate accelerating. For whatever reason, seeing you working got him going. He loved seeing you work. Loved how focused you’d get on a project. Maybe it was you weren’t working because you had to, but because you wanted to. And you enjoyed it. Just like how he loved running his restaurant. The two of you found a passion that was worth being on your feet for hours at a time for. 

“Might as well take a picture if you’re going to stare at me like that,” you teased him, shifting your eyes over to him. 

“I’m allowed to stare at my sexy girlfriend, leave me be,” he teased back, reaching his hand up and pinching your right face cheek, “You’re just so hot when you’re focused on something.” 

You swatted his hand away with a laugh, “You’re silly.” 

He looked back down at the bouquet, taking in the design of the glass vase, “What’s the occasion?” 

“A proposal,” you took notice of the way Jay’s eyes looked back up at you, but you held your gaze on the roses, “This client is in here all the time picking up different types of bouquets for his girl. He called earlier saying he’s finally proposing,” you smiled, finally meeting Jay’s eyes, “This is my first wedding proposal bouquet, I am a bit nervous.” 

“Babe,” he said with a tilt of his head, his hand pulling at the pocket of your apron, “You haven’t failed a client since we opened this shop. YN, you’re killing it here, I don’t think you have a thing to worry about. Mostly if this client comes in here all the time.” 

You looked back at the bouquet, the corners of your lips curling, “He is in here at least three times a week.”

“See?” Jay smiled, now pulling at the top of the apron, and pulled you towards him, embracing your lips with his, kissing you softly, “You must be doing something right.” 

You kissed him back, leaning closer into his as his hand snaked up to your neck, thumb rubbing against your jaw. 

Jay attempted to deepen the kiss, being so ready to lock the doors and pull the blinds down over the windows and bend your pretty body over this counter, but you killed his dream too quickly by pulling away, “Easy there, sir,” you giggled, backing away from the counter, “My client will be here at any minute, I need to finish this.” 

Jay groaned in a childlike manner, “Babbbeeeeee.” 

You ignored him, grabbing a pretty cream silk ribbon to tie around the vase, “You will literally see me when I get off,” you tell him. He sighs, but knows you were right. He’d just have to shove your face into his pillows later tonight. 

He took one final look at the rose bouquet, watching how your fingers adjusted the petals and he smiled wide, “My rose petal.” 

You glanced up at him, confused, “I’m sorry?” 

“My rose petal,” he repeated, locking eyes with you, “You’re my little rose petal.” 

You couldn’t help but look at him with endearment. He’s always addressed you by your name, baby, or babe. But now you have an official nickname, and you couldn’t be happier. 

“Come here, my rose petal,” he said, stepping away from the counter and stretching out his arms. 

You rushed over to him, pressing your body to his and squeezing him tightly, “I love you,” you nuzzled your face in his neck, taking him his scent. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you too, so very much,” He kissed your forehead again and gently removed you from him, “Get back to work, I’ll see you later.” 

You smiled, giving him a nod. The whole drive back to the apartment Jay kept replaying over and over in his about the client and the proposal, hoping it would go well for the guy. But images of you kept popping up. You in a pretty dress, walking down the aisle towards him. Jay quickly shook his head, snapping him out of the thoughts and focusing back on the drive. 

—

The last thing you expected to do on your day off was traveling around town apartment/house shopping with your boyfriend's baby sister. Not that you minded, you loved spending time with her and loved her to death. She just…had an urgency about looking at new homes. 

She let out a massive sigh as she glanced around the ninth apartment the two of you have looked at today, “This one is…a bit too small.” 

You gave a small shrug, wrapping your arms over your chest, “It is small, but it’d just be you, Jake, and Hwa, so you won’t need too much space.” 

She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes scanning the living room, “Yeah, I guess? But I was thinking something a bit bigger.” 

“For having guests over?” you tried to picture this living room with enough couch space, TV, coffee table, and Hwa’s toys and then added in the family. Yeah, this place wouldn’t fit everyone. 

She kept quiet, now biting at her nails and taking one final look then turning on her heels, “Let’s check out that apartment across the street before we move onto another area.” 

You followed behind her, “Not that I am not grateful that you invited me,” you said going down two steps at a time to keep up with her, “But why did Jake not come along? Or even Jay? They probably would be better at this kind of shopping than me.” you didn’t even shop for the apartment you live in now, your parents did. All you did was move into it. So you couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t exactly being of help to her. 

“My brother would be too nitpicky about every detail. It took him forever to find the apartment we are in now,” yeah that sounds about right for Jay, “and Jake would think each place we look at would be good enough. Silly pup would be happy with just about anything,” and that also sounds on point for Jake, “They are both working at the software company. Jae said there’s a big project so my brother is helping out. But I also value your opinion, a lot more than you think and I needed some much-needed girl time.” 

You nodded, finally getting caught up with her. Sometimes you forget her best friend is a male and she spends 90% of her time with well…the males in the apartment. It made sense for her to cling to you when she could. 

But you still couldn’t shake the feeling of why this was a must right now. Like why the rush? 

You continued following behind her as she double-checked the apartment numbers and ran up the stairs and found the final apartment in this area. This apartment was much bigger. Had three rooms, the kitchen was a decent size and the living room was spacious. Her eyes lit up with glee as she walked around the whole apartment twice. 

“YN, this one is perfect! Jake would be happy and Jay would approve too!” She clapped her hands together, “What do you think?!” 

You looked around and gave her a big smile, “It is pretty perfect, isn’t it?” 

She squealed and pulled you into a hug, “I can’t wait to show Jake.”

She released you from her embrace and pulled her phone from her pocket, snapping a few photos and immediately sending them to Jake. Her smile was so big and bright that it was contagious, you couldn’t help but feed off her energy. Even if something was still off. 

She ran her hands from her hips to her belly, giving it a small squeeze before dropping her hands at her side. You couldn’t handle not knowing what was going on anymore. 

“Hey, __,” you softly spoke, getting her attention anyway, “What is actually going on? Why were you in such a rush to find somewhere else to live? You know Jay has no problem with you three still living there.” 

Her smile faded as she stared off into the distance out the window, “Because our family is growing,” she cupped her hands back on her belly, “YN, I am pregnant.” 

You rushed to her, taking her hands in yours, “Are you for real? Are you pregnant again? Hwa will have a sibling!!” 

She smiled ear to ear and did a small jump, “I am! I found out a week ago!” 

You jumped with her until neither of you could jump anymore, completely out of breath, “I am sure Jake was so happy!” 

She chuckled, “Well,” her fingers traced along the necklace that was once Jake’s twisting the double pendants between her fingers, “Jake doesn’t know yet. Neither does my brother or anyone else! You’re the first to know!” 

You placed a hand over your heart, “I’M the first to know?!” 

She nodded, “But you can’t tell anyone! I am planning a surprise. Regardless, I was going to tell you today, but I have a plan!” It was your turn to squeal and get excited for her, “But that is why I was in a rush to find another apartment. The one now is crowded, there’s six of us and seven when you are there. Imagine another baby there?” 

You thinned your lips, completely understanding. The apartment was thankfully big enough to house everyone, but when everyone was out of their rooms…it became very crowded fast. And when Shotaro was also there to hang out? Or Yunjin when she was with you? Even worse. 

“I get it,” you said, giving a smile, “I’ll keep it a secret until you’re ready to tell it!” 

She pulled you into a hug, “Thank you so much, YN. Truly. I am happy to have you in my life.” 

You hugged her back tighter, “I am happy to have you in my life too.” 

She pulled away, taking a deep breath and taking in the apartment, “Wow, this will really be my new home.” 

Jake rolled over to Jay in his chair, “Dude, check out the apartment __ found!” 

Jay glanced over, “Damn, that looks nice.” 

“Doesn’t it?” Jake giggled, “Hard to believe we won’t be under the same roof anymore.” 

Jay smirked, “Yeah, I’ll finally have peace and quiet.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, “No you won’t. Not with Heeseung and Sunghoon still there.” 

Jay shrugged, “That’s true. We’d have an extra bedroom though,” Jay leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head lost in deep thought, “It’ll be weird not seeing you both every day.” 

His best friend sighed, tossing his phone onto the desk. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be an adjustment.” 

Jay all of a sudden didn’t like the idea of his best friend and sister moving out of the apartment. Yes, he still would have Heeseung and Sunghoon. But he grew up with Jake and his sister always being around too. It was weird enough being away from his sister those few years of college before she moved in. He’d have to get used to not having her around again. And not only that but he wouldn’t see Hwa every day. How would he survive not seeing his beautiful niece every day?

Jake could see the gears turning in Jay’s head, “Hey, no. Stop that,” Jay looked at his friend confused, “You’re acting like you’d never see us again. We are in the same town, you don’t have to worry about not seeing us.” 

Jay knew that. It just wouldn’t be as often as he’d want.

“I’m just being a big brother, I’ll be fine.” Jay tried to focus back on the computer screen. But Jake just smiled, knowing Jay was just sad. Proof enough that he loved each of them. 

“Just have YN move in,” Jake suggested, standing to his feet and stretching, “I am sure she’d be happy to get out of that apartment to cut that tie with her parents.” 

Jay has thought about that solution many times, but the apartment was already crowded, and never brought it up, but now…maybe. Who knows? 

“Let’s get out of here,” Jake said with a yawn, “I want to get home.” 

Jay also yawned and nodded. He wanted to get back home before you and his sister came home anyway and have dinner ready. With a stretch, Jay followed Jake out of the building. 

—

You opened the door to Jay’s bedroom, seeing him at his desk playing some kind of strategic video game. Jay heard the door open and quickly whipped around, giving you a big smile before turning back to his game, “Hey there pretty girl,” he slid one of the earmuffs of the headset from his ear, “There’s chicken pasta on the stove.” 

If you were being honest, you were hungry and that chicken pasta smelled the whole apartment up and smelt delicious, but it wasn't exactly what you were hungry for at that moment. You’ll eat the pasta, just not right now. 

Ever since finding out __ was pregnant again, you couldn’t help but think about that life with Jay. You thought back to the night you and Jay watched Hwa together, for the very first time. You remembered how he looked at you with his niece with such endearment and flat-out asking you to have a baby with him. You were flustered at first, still way too new to the relationship to actually consider it. But now? After __ announced her pregnancy to you? All you could hope for was that Jay still felt that way. 

You were on autopilot. One moment you stood in his bedroom doorway, the next the door was closed and locked and you were climbing into his lap, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

Jay adjusted a bit in the chair to help make you and himself more comfortable, one hand leaving the keyboard to rub up and down your back for a few seconds, “Everything okay, baby?” he asked, being slightly worried something was wrong. 

You nod, nuzzling your face into his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne, “Just want to be close to you.”

Jay smiled, lifting his other hand from his gaming mouse to wrap you in a tight hug and kiss your cheek then resumed his game, “Why don’t you go get some food and come back, ya? I can finish up this match and we watch a movie, how does that sound?” 

You didn’t answer, not because you didn’t want to, but because your mouth was now attaching itself to his neck and your fingers gripped into his shirt, slightly pulling. 

He was getting hard underneath you, his focus on his game was swaying. It took so much concentration to not throw his head back into the headrest and moan out at how much pleasure he was feeling just by your lips on his skin. Jay was starting to lose his self-control, wanting badly to toss his hands away from the keyboard and mouse and touch you. To grip your hips and push himself up against you. 

“Baby,” he breathed, “You’re being really distracting right now,” he started slowly bucking his hips up, rubbing his now fully hard cock against your heat, loving how the thin material of his and your shorts made it easier to feel up against you. You moaned against his neck, taking a small bite of his skin just below his jawline, “Fuck, YN,” he whimpers, fingers gripping his keyboard and mouse, “What’s gotten into you tonight, my rose petal?” 

Your lips left his neck and trailed up to the corner of his mouth, “Let’s make a baby,” you whispered, brushing your nose against his and staring into his eyes. 

Jay chuckles, hands finally abandoning his gaming items and squeezing your hips, “Yeah? You wanna make a baby, princess?” he pushed you down hard against him, a gasp releasing from your mouth, “All you gotta do is ask,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips, one hand sliding from your hip and down to your ass and then where you needed him the most, his knuckle rubbing against your clothed cunt, “Ask daddy to fuck you,” his teeth nipped at your button lip, causing your hips to rock more against his length. 

Your hands moved to the waistband of his shorts, looping your fingers at the material and tugging, “Fuck me, please.”’

He shifted himself up, letting you pull his shorts and boxers down to his thighs, your hand wrapping around his cock and slowly pumping him, “Say it again, princess,” he demanded with a groan, fingers now pulling your shorts and panties to the side, feeling your slick pool out and onto his hand, “Ask me again.” 

You lifted up, adjusting his tip to your entrance, his free hand holding you in place until you do as he said, “Please fuck me, daddy.” 

Jay smirks, all you had to do was ask. He pushed himself into you, his tip kissing perfectly against your cervix, “Oh fuck baby,” he moans, connecting his lips to yours, kissing you aggressively as he fucked up into you, “Bounce on my cock, pretty girl.” 

You gripped the back of the chair and moved against him. His hands gripped your ass, assisting your movements as you rode him, his hips bucking up in time with your movement. You picked up your pace, throwing your head back, “F-feels s-so good,” his hands squeezed your ass harder, hips fucking into you faster, “Jayyyy.”

“Shit, baby,” he groans, “Love it when you moan out my name.” 

Jay was in pure bliss. Everything about this moment was so sexy to him. The way you come home to him and immediately straddle him and tell him you want to make a child and beg him to fuck you? It was so hot. Regardless if you meant it about making a baby with him, he’s going to breed your cunt and fill you whole with his cum. Just the thought of getting you pregnant sent him spiraling. He wanted to cum. Now. Jay could already feel you were close by the way you hugged him tightly. 

Jay quickly removed his headset, not wasting another moment sitting in this chair, and shifted the two of you over onto his bed. His hands gripped your legs and lifted them up over his shoulders, pistoning into faster and pinning your hands above your head. 

Your jaw went slack and moaned out his name, chanting it as if it were the only word you knew how to speak, and oh god was it music to his ears. 

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, “Keep screaming my name. Fuck, please keep screaming my name,” your legs twitched and cunt clenched, causing Jay to smirk, “Is my baby close?” 

You nodded, squeezing his hands, trying to find the words to tell him yes. Jay could see it written all over your face on how badly you wanted to cum, how badly you wanted him to cum. 

You clenched around him tighter, that knot snapping and pleasure washing over you. Your arched your back as you came around his cock. 

Jay’s breathing was becoming uneven, thrusts getting sloppy and head leaning against your knee, leaving kisses against your skin, “Going to cum soon baby,” he barely said above a whisper, “Going to fill this pretty cunt up with my cum, going to breed you, fuck,” 

His eyes closed tightly, his whole body shuddering at the final thrust, his cum painting your walls white. His thrusts slowly came to a stop, his hips pressing hard against yours as the last bit of his seed made its way into your cunt. Jay trailed kisses from your knee and down to your thigh and then finally your lips, releasing your hands from his grip and cupping your face, “I love you so much.” 

You sleepily smiled against his lips and before you could respond, your stomach did it for you. 

Jay chuckled against your mouth, “Let’s get you cleaned up and get food in that stomach,” he gave you one final kiss and then slowly pulled himself out, making his way to his dresser and taking a clean pair of red-checkered boxers out and coming back to you. 

He carefully removed your shorts and panties off your body, using the box of tissues at his nightstand table to clean you up. He could feel your eyes on him, staring at him with so much love, “You always look at me like that while I am taking care of you.” 

All you could do was smile, “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” 

He smiles and pulls his boxers over your legs and hips, “I’ll wash your clothes for you,” he helps you stand to your feet, holding you close to his chest, “How about after you eat, we watch that movie now, hmm?” 

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss him, “I would love that. Almost as much as I love you.” 

Jay picked you up in his arms, squeezing you tightly. He didn’t think it would be possible to fall more in love with you every day, yet here he is, another day into your relationship, and more in love with you than yesterday. 

—

“Okay, everyone!” Jay’s sister says above the chatter of everyone, her voice doing nothing to silence the area. 

Jay takes a look around at everyone, “HEY!” he shouts, “Stinks has something to say!” 

The talking stopped, making the restaurant quiet. 

“Thank you, big brother!” she said, giving him two finger guns. 

Jay just lifts a brow, “Can you just hurry up and tell us why we had to have this big meeting here at my restaurant? I have to open those doors in thirty minutes for business.” 

His sister crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes at her brother. You could tell she was nervous and could see the small sweat droplets that were collecting on the sides of her face. You knew what she had planned and how she was going to execute the plan about telling everyone she was pregnant again. From what you were told, when she and Jake found out they were pregnant with Hwa, there wasn’t any plan made to reveal the pregnancy. She told Jake and then Jay just so happened to walk in afterwards. But this time she wanted it to be different, she wanted to be able to tell the ones who mean the most to her all at once. To make it special. 

“And we want to eat!” Sunghoon teased, “Need me some protein and Jay has the best chicken here!” 

“He honestly does,” Shotaro added, “I’ve never been able to get chicken anywhere since having it here.” 

“I personally think the steak is the best here,” Heeseung shrugged, “Way better than the chicken.” 

“Jay’s baking is actually top-notch and better than everything else here, sorry not sorry guys!” Yunjin giggled, nudging her elbow into Heeseung’s back. 

“Guys, guys,” Jake cleared his throat, “Everything on the damn menu is fantastic, ain’t that right Jay!?” 

Jay shrugged, “Flattering me won’t get you free food.” 

“Come on man!” Jake groaned. 

You noticed how __ started to fidget with her fingers, biting her lower lip and staring off to the floor. The anxiety was starting to eat at her. 

You needed to do something. 

Hwa was sitting in your lap, her little fingers twisting a plastic spoon around, “Sfoon!” she giggled, showing you the spoon, “Sfoon!” 

You pinched her cheek and laid a kiss on your forehead before sliding her out of your lap and to the floor, she stood in place but made eye contact with her father, now showing him the spoon, “Da-da, sfoon!” 

Jake held his arms out to his daughter, her little legs making their way to his side, and leaning into his thigh. 

You stood from the table and were now at __’s side, “Hey! Can we get back on why we are here!” you shouted, bringing everyone’s attention back where it needed to be. 

“Yes, thank you, YN,” she said with a shaky voice. 

Jay finally clocked her anxiousness and so did Jake, “Stinks,” her brother took a deep breath, “What’s going on?” 

Jake nodded, “Baby, is everything okay?” 

“Well, I uhh…” you reached for her hand, interlocking your fingers with hers. She looked at you, as if waiting for the okay. You smile and nod, giving her that support she needs. She smiled back, squeezing your hand, “I have an announcement to make,” she one by one looked at everyone, locking eyes with Jay and Jake lastly, the two most important people in this room to her. Her smile grew wider, “I’m pregnant!” she said, doing a small little dance, “I am pregnant again.” 

Jake was at his wife’s side instantly, pulling her into a tight hug and rocking her back and forth, “No fucking way!” he laughed, “We’re pregnant again?!” 

“Yes, babe!” she now had tears rolling down her eyes, “We’re going to have another baby.” 

Heeseung, Sunghoon, Shotaro, and Yunjin all were now at their side, giving hugs and congratulations. Little Hwa hugged onto her mother's legs and reached her arms up to be held, “You hear that baby girl?” Jake said, picking up his daughter and creating a group hug with her and his wife, “You’ll have a little sibling soon!” 

You finally were able to get a hug in with the three of them, “Congratulations, I am so happy for you two!” 

Jake wiggled his eyebrows, “You knew didn’t you?” 

You gave him a wink and held your index finger to your lips. Hwa was now looking at you, her little spoon being waved around and arms reaching out for you, “YN!” she said with her tiny voice, “Up!” 

You took her in your arms, cuddling her close to you, “Hwa will be a big sister!” you tickled her tummy, her laughs filling the restaurant. 

Jay was still shocked. He’ll be an uncle of two? He couldn’t ask for anything more. He finally stood from the table, yanking Jake by the back of his hoodie and pulling him from his sister, and embracing her in his arms, “Stinks, I can’t believe it!” 

She hugged her big brother back tightly, “I know, it is hard to believe it for me too!” 

Jay pulled her back, hands resting on her shoulders, “I’ll be an uncle to two now?!” 

Jake wrapped his arm around Jay’s shoulder, “And I’ll be a dad of two…shit is fucking crazy!” 

That’s right…

Jay tilted away from his best friend, giving him a dirty look. Jake raises a brow, looking between his wife and Jay, “What?” 

“You know what.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, “Brother, I told you I was going to knock her up again! She’s my wife!” 

__ chuckles and pulls her husband and brother into a tight hug, “I love you both so much.” 

With a shrug of his shoulders, Jay embraces the both of them. Their little family was growing even more, and he couldn’t be happier about it. 

Jay was finally able to open the restaurant, sitting his friends and family down at their normal table and getting Yunjin to start taking customers' orders with him. 

Jay focused on putting his family’s order into their new tablets for order taking, pressing each button one by one when Yunjin leaned her arm against his shoulder, “When are the two of you having one?” 

“Excuse me?”Jay said with a brow raise, shifting her arm off his shoulder, “I’m your boss while on the clock, don’t forget that.” 

Yunjin just rolls her eyes and flips her red hair behind her shoulder, “You know I don’t care,” she shrugs, “Answer my question though, when are you going to knock up my best friend?” With a sigh Jay sets the tablet down on the counter, glaring at her, but she glares back, “Don’t look at me like that, it’s a genuine question! I mean look at her!” she points over to you, “She’s the perfect aunt to Hwa.” 

Jay looks back at the table you all sat at, seeing how his niece clung to you as you placed kisses on her small face. Seeing you with Hwa makes his brain go into a spiral. If you were like this with his niece how would you be with his child? He couldn’t get the image of you pregnant out of his head. Carrying his child and starting a family with him and growing the park family even more. It’s always been a thought in his head since the very first moment he saw you with Hwa. Is it a coincidence that you asked him to make a baby not too long ago? He couldn’t stop all these thoughts circulating in his brain. 

Your best friend smirks, “You’re so thinking about getting her pregnant.” 

Jay quickly looks back at her and tosses the tablet into her hands, “Go take some orders before I fire you.” 

She chuckles and turns on her heels, “You won’t fire me. YN wouldn’t allow it.”

Even with a smile on his face, he still rolled his eyes hard. 

—

They all clinked their beer glasses together and cheered, the four males chugging down the drinks. 

“Dude,” Heeseung said, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder, “Can’t believe you’ll have two kids soon.” 

Sunghoon reached for the basket of chips, “I can’t believe she let you get her pregnant again, isn’t one kid with you enough?” he teased. 

Jay laughed, “You’d think so!” 

Jake scowls at his friends, “Man, fuck you guys!” he brings his beer glass to his lips, chugging it down. 

“Come on,” Jay smiled, “We are just yanking your chain! We are all happy for you.” Which was the truth. Even with all the teasing and overprotectiveness Jay had for him and his sister, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be married to his sister and the father of his niece and future nephew/niece. 

“Let’s be honest here though,” Sunghoon said with a mouthful of chips, “You’re going to have a girl again.” 

Jake groaned and slumped himself down on the table, “It’ll be over for me if __ is pregnant with another girl.” 

“You think it’ll be the end for you,” Heeseung pointed over to Jay, “Jay will lose his shit.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Sunghoon agreed, reaching for more chips, “Him going nuts over Hwa was bad enough.”’

“Manifesting a boy, don’t you worry,” Jay said, flicking his finger against Jake’s forehead, “It’ll be the end of us both if my sister has another girl.” 

“I need another drink,” Jake groans, standing from the table, “I’m getting us refills.” 

“Get more chips too!” Sunghoon called after him. 

Jake returned shortly with another basket of chips and refills for everyone. Each of them chugging down half of their glasses. 

The conversation moved from Jake’s future second child to random things about each other's jobs and how Sunghoon’s hockey season was going. 

“We could be traveling out of the country for future games,” Sunghoon clapped his hands, “Only if we do good this season.” 

“I’m sure you guys will,” Jake shoved his friend’s shoulder, “You guys always kill it!” 

Heeseung glances over at Jay, noticing his silence and noticing how Jay stared down at his beer glass and tapped the pad of his index and middle finger against the glass, watching the water droplets slide down. 

“You good man?” Heeseung finally asked, causing Jake and Sunghoon to stop talking and look over at Jay, worry on their faces now too. 

Jay looked between his three friends, “Yeah, I’m good. Just listening.” He took a sip of his beer. 

Heeseung raised his eyebrows, “You don’t ever just listen. Jay, what’s going on in that head of yours?” 

His friends all kept their eyes on him, waiting for him to speak. He sighs, knowing he had no choice but to talk, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about getting YN pregnant.” 

Jake’s eyes widened with excitement, mouth smiled wide, “Seriously?! Dude, that's massive!” 

Jay wasn’t sure if he should smile or frown, so he decided on an awkward smile. 

“Why is this even a debate?” Sunghoon asks, taking notice of the war going on in Jay’s brain, “Why do you sound conflicted?” 

Jay took another sip of his beer and then sighed, “A while back, I mentioned to YN about having a baby together. She brushed it off that we weren’t together long enough and still had plenty of time to discuss it.” 

“Which is fair,” Heeseung added, “How long were you two dating at that point?” 

“Roughly three months.”

Jake blew out a whistle, “Damn and you guys thought I was bad with __.” 

Jay glared, kicking his foot under the table against Jake’s shin. 

“Anyway,” Sunghoon shoved more chips in his mouth and took a sip of his beer, “Continue the story.” 

“The day my sister and YN went apartment shopping for you two,” he pointed at Jake, “When they returned to the apartment, she…” Jay smirked at the memory. 

“Okay,” Heeseung waved his hand, “We got it, y’all fucked, get on with it.” 

“She mentioned about making a baby, but I don’t know if she actually meant it or was it just a…ya know…” 

“A horny moment?” Jake said with a nod of his head. 

Jay just nodded, “Wasn’t going to say it like that but yeah, just an in the moment type thing,” Jay grabbed a chip from the basket, “And now that my sister is pregnant again—no thanks to you, Jake—it’s been even more on my mind.” 

The table fell silent, but then Jake sat forward, “Let me ask you this,” he twisted his beer glass, “Do you want to have a baby with her?” 

Jay didn’t hesitate in his answer, “Yes, I do,” Jake smiled even more, “I’d love to create another life with her,” Jay was the one smiling wide now, “I want a family with YN.” 

“My man!” Jake stood to his feet, holding his hand out for Jay to take it, and he did. Squeezing his friend’s hand tightly. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon also grasp Jay’s hands. The four of them were laughing loudly. 

“Look at us,” Jay said, reaching now for his glass, “We’re all grown up.” 

Heeseung titled his head, “Tell me about it. It felt just like yesterday we were all going into kindergarten together.” 

They all agreed and laughed more. 

“You know,” Jake chuckled, glancing up at the ceiling, “We are both fucked if our women have girls.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “Don’t put that into motion man! I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I haven’t even gotten YN pregnant yet.” 

Sunghoon placed a hand on Jay’s shoulder, “With your  luck, it will be a girl.”

Jay removed Sunghoon’s hand, glaring at him and making a smart remark. 

Deep down Jay knew, there was no way he wasn’t going to have a girl. He could already feel that protectiveness for a baby girl that hasn’t even been created yet. 

—

Jay aggressively knocked on your door, bouncing back and forth on each leg from the anticipation of waiting. And waiting he didn’t want to do. 

He was about to pound his fist once again against your door but stopped midway at hearing the door unlock and the doorknob turning. Before you could even fully pull the door open for your boyfriend, he was busting in, hands immediately cupping your face and lips attaching to yours. 

“Jay,” you said between kisses, trying to reach for the door and close it. Without even leaving your lips, he kicked his foot back, closing the door and removing one of his hands only for a few seconds to lock it in place. 

You mumbled his name again, “You’ve been drinking,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back, his hands sliding from your face to your waist, his eyes filled with so much want and need for you, “Is everything okay?” 

Jay smiles, leaning back in and kissing you once again, pulling your body as close as possible to his, “Everything is perfect.” He rubbed his hard cock against your stomach, hands squeezing your ass tightly. 

You’ve seen Jay desperate like this before, but this?? This was a different kind of desperation. Not the normal I need you right now type. But a I want nothing more than to love on you right now type. You weren’t complaining, you were so in love with how he was handling you. Loving the way he was desperate to have you right now. It made your panties soaked just thinking about it. 

You smiled against his lips, deciding to tease him, “You missed me that much after spending the day with the boys, huh?” 

You don’t even know the half of it, my love. 

Jay kissed you with more desperation, his brows furrowing and hands sliding their way underneath your shirt, “Let's go to your bedroom, ya?” 

You nodded, barely being able to come up for air as he dragged you to your bedroom and connected his mouth to yours once again. 

“Babe,” you ask as he slides your shirt off your body, tossing it somewhere off in the room, “What’s on your mind?” you could tell something was present in that brain of his, it’s obvious by his body language. 

“Marry me,” he came outright and said it, sliding his shirt and jeans to the floor, “Marry me, baby, please,” he pulled your body back against his, kissing you with even more desperation than earlier. Hands roaming every inch of her skin and removing the rest of your clothing with the movements. 

Jay twisted you around and bent you over your bed, pressing his still-clothed cock against your bareness, pushing you forward until the both of you were on the bed, “YN,” he whispered, lips kissing down your neck and onto your shoulders, thumbs looping into his boxers and shoving them down and onto the floor, “Please, marry me.” You understood now why he was feeling so desperate. He was releasing emotions he kept pinned up. 

He licked his index, middle, and ring fingers, soaking them completely with his saliva and rubbing them against your cunt, mixing it with your juices before slowly pushing them inside knuckle deep. Jay groans at the way you clench around his fingers as he moves them in and out of you. His cock rubbing against your ass for the friction he needs. 

Your hands gripped your bedsheets, letting out soft moans while his fingers worked inside you, curling each time they hit your spot, “Seongie,” 

“Say you’ll marry me,” he stopped his movements and removed his fingers from your pussy, now rocking the tip of his cock up and down your folds, “Marry me, please. Become my wife,” pressing his tip to your entrance, he lets out a soft gasp, “Please say you’ll marry me.” 

You lift yourself up on your elbows to look back at him, seeing the pleading look he was giving you. The way he held your hips with such care and the love he held in his eyes. He fully meant his words. You smile at him, “I’ll marry you.” 

With those words, he pushed himself into you, his hips connecting to your ass, and held himself there, pushing as far as he possibly could into you to kiss your cervix completely, “You’ll marry me?” 

“Yes, Park Jongseong,” you lay your head down on the bed, rocking your hips against him in hopes he starts moving, “I’ll marry you, I’d want nothing more than to become your wife.” 

That’s all it took. That small amount of confirmation from you and he was fucking into you fast and hard, fingers gripping tightly to your hips as he shoved you down into him with each of his thrusts. He couldn’t believe it. You’re going to marry him. Going to be stuck with him forever. 

“Ughhh fuuucccckkkkk,” Jay moans, throwing his head back at the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last at this rate, not with the feeling of you agreeing to marry him that was filling up his heart and mind. Jay also wanted to get you pregnant. The thought was enough to make him want to cum right now, “Lemme knock you up,” was his next words, his hands leaving your hips and pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail, yanking you up and pressing your back against his chest. One hand held the front of your neck, not enough to choke you, but enough pressure was put to make your head spin. His other hand moved down to your stomach, pressing hard to feel his length move against your walls, “Oh, fuck please, let me knock you up.” 

You threw your head back against his shoulder, relishing in the pleasure he was making you feel. His lips attached to yours, tongue sliding past your lips and exploring your cavern. It made you feel dizzy, seeing stars every time you blinked or held your eyes closed for too long. This sex was different from the normal that you’d have with Jay. There was so much more feeling behind, more love and lust and want and need. You weren’t sure if it was because he asked you to be his wife and to impregnate you, or if every ounce of love Jay had was spilling over the top. You assumed it was both. 

“Let me get you pregnant,” he said again, biting at your lower lip and giving it a soft pull then releasing it. He rested his forehead on yours, brow furrowing and eyes squinting shut as he fucked into you, his orgasm fast approaching and he knew he’d burst at any moment. 

You were also close to your orgasm, mostly with how he pressed his hand tighter and tighter against your stomach and making you clench around his cock more. 

“Let’s make a baby, ya?” he whispers, thrusts getting sloppier but never losing their pace, “You said you wanted to.” 

His fingers now worked against your clit, your body shuddering and mouth falling open as you came around him, nodding your head as quickly as you could, “Please,” you breath, “Seongie, please get me pregnant.” 

And you meant it. You want to make a family with him. He’s your soulmate. Your forever. He was it. Nothing would be better than him or come above him besides the little specks of life the two of you create together. 

“Yessss,” he breathes out in a smile. Fucking his hips faster into your cunt, feeling himself about to burst, “Going to cum in this pussy all night and every single day and every chance I get until you’re pregnant. This pussy is mine to breed and holy fuck will I breed it good.” 

The final three thrusts were what he had left before shooting his seed deep in your cunt, groans leaving his lips as the white ropes filled you whole. 

You both took deep breaths in, smiling and laughing uncontrollably together. Right when you thought you could turn around and face him, he was shoving your face down into the pillows, “You thought we were done?” he teased, his cock still hard against your walls as he fucked his cum in you, “We are going all night until we can’t. I’m going to get you pregnant.” 

You smirked against the sheets, it was going to be a long and fun night. 

—

You pace around your best friend's bedroom, biting at your nails. 

“If you’re so worried about it, why don’t we go buy some tears?” Yunjin suggested, tilting her head to the side, “This is what the two of you wanted, right?” 

This was exactly what you and Jay wanted. But you still couldn’t help but wonder if you’re running late for your period or…if it’s not coming. 

It’s been about two months since you and Jay not only got engaged, but decided to try and get pregnant. Jay kept true to his word on cumming in you every chance he got, so it was purely a matter of time before it actually happened. And all you can do is pray it finally did. 

You looked over at your friend and nodded, “I’d like that. Can we go now?” 

She gave you a soft smile, “Of course, I’ll even drive.” 

You couldn’t keep your hands off your tummy the entire drive to and from the store to pick up the pregnancy tests as if holding your body would manifest a small spark of life. Once back at her apartment, she gave you the privacy to piss on the sticks in her bathroom and continued to let you pace around her apartment until it was time to check the tests. 

“You think it’s been enough time yet?” You asked nervously, twisting your fingers. 

“YN,” she sighs, “Let’s just go check them. I think you’re worried for nothing.” 

She could be right, but also she could be wrong. All you could really do was check and see. What’s the worst that could happen? 

She followed behind you to the bathroom, stopping at the sink where the tests sat. 

“You ready?” she asked you, taking your hand in hers. 

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Let’s get this over with.” 

You now find yourself sitting on the couch of the Parks/Sims/Lee residence, holding little Hwa in your arms as you both watch a baby show on the television. 

Jay’s sister sat in the recliner chair, her hand resting on the small baby bump that was starting to form. Heeseung was passed out on the couch beside you, his mouth slightly open and head resting against the back of the couch. Sunghoon just finished making a bowl of popcorn and was carefully slipping pieces of the buttery goodness into Heeseung’s mouth. 

“Wonder how much I can fit in there before he wakes up,” Sunghoon giggles, giving Hwa a wink as she giggles with him. 

“Hoon!” she giggles. He placed a finger to his lips. She giggled softer and mimicked her tiny finger to her lips. 

You rested your head on hers, pulling her tighter to your chest. 

The front door opened, causing Heeseung to wake up right when Sunghoon was popping the sixth popcorn into his mouth. 

“What the fuck?!” Heeseung snapped with a mournful, chewing the snack anyway, “What is wrong with you?” 

“You were drooling, Hee,” __ said, “It was quite funny.” 

“What was funny?” Jake smiled as he walked into the living room, Jay following right behind him. 

Jake stood at his wife’s side, pressing a kiss to her temple, “Hoon was stacking popcorn into Heeseung’s mouth while he was asleep.” 

Hwa reached her arms out for her father, so you stood up and handed her over to Jake, “How many did he get in there?” 

Sunghoon sat down on the couch beside Heeseung, a smirk wide on his face, “Six. Almost seven.” 

Everyone laughed except Heeseung, “You’re all going to hell!” he said with a roll of his eyes, “Stacking food in a poor man’s mouth while he sleeps? Ridiculous!” 

“Maybe he thought you were hungry?” Jay teased, then looked over at you and waved you over to him, he could see you deep in thought, “Hey, what’s wrong?” he whispered once you were at his side, “Want to talk about it?” 

You bit your lip and looked around at everyone in the room, then slowly nodded, “In the room?” 

Jay nodded, and more concern washed over him. He wanted until the door to his bedroom was closed before pulling you close to him, “Baby, talk to me. What’s up?” 

You fiddled with the collar of his shirt, “How was working with Jake today?”

He creased his brows, “It was fine, a major project is coming up that I am helping him with. But that’s not important right now, don’t beat around the bush, just tell me what’s wrong.” 

You pulled away from him, “My period is late.” 

Jay was quick to pull you back, “It is?” You could see the sparkle of hope in his eyes, “Does that mean…?” 

You pulled away from him again and walked to his bed where your bags for the night sat, digging through it and pulling out a small rectangle green box, turning back around, and handing it to him. 

He looked at you, trying to read your eyes. He had to admit, he was terrified. Terrified of what this meant and what was in this box. But nevertheless, his eyes were still filled with hope. With shaky hands, he pulled off the lid, seeing a pregnancy test sitting on top of some white gift paper. 

He let out a shaky breath, looking up at you, “You’re pregnant?” 

You smile wide, nodding your head, “Yes,” he pulled you into his arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, “We’re going to be parents,” you whispered in his ear, planting kisses to the side of his face. 

“I’m going to be a dad,” he could feel the tears swelling in his eyes, “You’re going to be a mom. Oh my god we did it, baby, we did it.” 

You clung onto him tighter, “We did. We finally did.”

After two long months of trying, the thing you and Jay wanted the most finally happened. The two of you were starting a family. Growing the one you already had even bigger. 

“Oh my god,” He pulled back a fit, cupping your face, “Hwa will have her first cousin!” 

You nodded, “She will, she’ll be the best big cousin!” 

Jay pulled you back to him, his smile not fading. All he could do was hold you. No amount of words or kisses to your face and lips was enough to state just how happy he was at this moment. He was going to be a father and you a mother. You’ll be his wife. And the two of you would officially be a family. 

What more could he ask for?

— perm tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle

@kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia

@wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @skzenhalove

@fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @criminalyun

@cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs

@seunghancore @enha-cafe @ohdeerhee @sunpov @zeeloveshee

@hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @abysofsteel @kookify

— taglist: @hearts4itoshi @enhaz1 @luvkpopp @lilyuwon

@kirinaa08 @1309zip @auniverseline @hwabang @nyxtwixx

@hooniebaekgu @aileeeeeeeeeeeee

[dorabellingham]

Boyfriend material

headcanon

characters: jobe x fem!reader

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors

1. King of well-planned surprises

Jobe loves to surprise you, but he doesn't do it in an obvious or cliché way. Instead of flowers at the door of the house, he books a private cooking class because he knows you casually commented on learning how to make typical food from somewhere. He listens to the small details and transforms them into big gestures. And the best? He gets a shy smile, a little embarrassed, waiting for your reaction, as if he didn't know he got it right.

2. He memorises your favourite playlist

Jobe knows all the songs you love. He has a playlist on Spotify called "For Y/n" and whenever he hears a song that reminds you, he adds it. The cutest thing is that sometimes he plays when you're in the car, just to see you sing. And of course, when they are separated, he sends a song from the list with a "I remembered you."

3. He's a great cook (but only for you)

Despite being a disaster in the kitchen when he's alone, Jobe makes a real effort when it's for you. He learns basic recipes and ventures with more elaborate dishes just because he knows you like them. It's always an event: he puts on music, tries to follow recipes on YouTube, and in the end, the kitchen is a mess. But he compensates by putting the food on the table with a proud smile, waiting for your compliment.

4. He is the best listener in the world

Jobe has a special talent for hearing you talk about absolutely anything. If you're talking about a book, about the new series you watched, or even about something you read in an academic article, he pays attention with genuine interest. He asks questions, gives opinions, and you feel like the most important person in the world.

5. He's absurdly affectionate in public

He's not afraid to show how much he loves you in public. Whenever you are walking together, he holds your hand, gives quick kisses on tour forehead or wraps you with his big arm when it's cold. He doesn't care if there are paparazzi around or if someone is watching - he just wants you to know that he is there, on your side, always.

6. He's the type who solves fights calmly (and hugs)

Jobe hates fights and discord, especially with you. He is the one who tries to solve everything calmly and by talking. Even when he is angry, he takes a deep breath, tries to listen to his side and speaks carefully. If he feels that the discussion is too heavy, he interrupts and says: "Let's breathe and talk about it later, I don't want to hurt you." And, of course, he never lets you sleep upset - he always ends the night with an apology or a tight hug.

7. He is super protective, but not in a possessive way

He is the kind of boyfriend who ensures that you feel safe all the time. It is protective in a subtle way - like being careful when they are in crowded places, holding your hand so they don't get lost, or checking the car before a trip. He is never possessive, but everyone knows that you are the love of his life.

8. He encourages your dreams (and remembers the details)

Jobe not only believes in your dreams, but also makes a point of being the greatest supporter. If you have a new project, he is the first to ask how he can help. He also remembers the smallest details, like when you mentioned that you wanted to go back to practising something, and sent cute messages before the first day saying how proud you were.

9. He is very organised, except when he is in love

Most of the time, Jove is super organised: the closet is tidy, the schedules are in place and he follows an impeccable routine. But when he's with you, it all falls apart. He forgets his socks on the couch because they were watching a movie together or leaves the bed untidy because he preferred to sleep a little more to the solo. He always says that you are the only thing that messes up his life - in a good way.

10. He's unbearably cute when he's jealous

Jobe is mature and confident, but even he can't resist a little jealousy from time to time. If someone flirts with you, he doesn't make a scene, but the closed look and the hand on your waist deliver everything. Then, he jokes: "Just for you to remember, you already have a very good english by your side." And of course, you love to provoke him just to see this reaction - which only makes him even more cute and in love.

[dwaekkicidal]

Hii 🫶🏻

First off: I have to tell you your Han series has me in a chokehold I CAN NOT get over it! 😍😍 it just hit all the right spots 😍😫

I don’t know if your request are open but if they are could I request with Han and female reader where Han is jealous/possessive of his girlfriend? Maybe because she is still in the same friend group with her ex or if you prefer give it any other motivation. It can be either swf or nswf, do as you prefer really (but if it is nswf could you make the reader to have a big breast and Han with a 🍒fixation maybe?)

Anyway I love you blog! Have a nice day! 🫶🏻😘

me when i get to self insert myself into a fic cause i have big boobies😼 ALSO TY ASDHJKASDJK i kept feeling really insecure about that series but its getting so much love :''))) im happy you are enjoying it as well as my blog <3

Cherries

˚ʚHan Jisung x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.8k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, reader has big boobs but no other physical features described, ex has they/them pronouns, kinda out of character ji?, exhibitionism, nipple play, brief mentions of p in v

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han’s eyes were narrowed, so sharp that you could cut diamonds with it. He watched intently as you conversed casually with your friend group. It’s not something he thought he would ever see himself getting genuinely mad over, but the familiar face in the crowd made his blood boil.  Had this exact situation taken place more than a year ago, Jisung would have been an anxious mess. Probably would be fiddling with his jacket’s sleeves and restlessly bouncing his leg while his mind went to the worst places possible. But now, after dating you for over 2 years, he was more confident in himself.

Don’t be fooled! He still gets jealous easily. Very easily… but it doesn’t make him as angsty as it used to. Nowadays all he feels is anger. The only thoughts that fill his mind are ones along the lines of “How dare that person talk to my girlfriend like that. Who do they think they are?” while strangers blatantly flirted with you, and he would make fun of them with words like “Did you see their face when you rejected them?? Fucking loser lol” when you would make a face and deny them before running back into his arms.

But those were with strangers. Not with your stupid ex. The same ex who made you hesitant going into this relationship with Han in the first place. And the same ex that managed to snake their way back into your friend group. While his thoughts were about the same, Han wasn’t very keen on taking his eyes off of them. The trust was still there with you, but he knew better than to trust your ex. The slimy, sugar-coated lies they told the group wouldn’t work on him. 

A hand being placed on his shoulder cut him from his thoughts. He was in full fight mode and completely missed the way you walked up to where he was on the couch. The game room the group had rented out for a few hours was filled with their booming voices and a random playlist off of somebody's Spotify. Some people were playing pool while the others stood nearby to watch and instigate mini brawls here and there. He was the only one who idly sat on the couch, drink in hand.

You knew he was in guard dog mode because of your ex’s presence so you made sure to break your attention from the group regularly to check up on him. Only this time he accidentally ignored you, so you made your way towards him. “You okay, Ji?” You smiled sideways and tilted your head, stealing a sip from his soda and settling yourself between his legs. Immediately all the anger drained from his body and he smiled up at you. His hands wrapped around your waist and he sat up, pulling you closer as he nodded.

“Yeah... Sorry haha.” You smiled sweetly and placed his cup on the coffee table, wrapping your arms around his neck once the cup was safely set down. “It’s okay, I know the situation is a little uncomfortable.” You whisper and tighten your hold around him, squeezing him lovingly and giggling to yourself when he rests his cheek against your chest. He grins like an idiot at his personal pillow and shoves his face harder until you eventually get red in the face and push him back. “Hey now… We’re still in public.”

“That can change. Let’s go home right now and I’ll show you a good time?” He smirks and pulls you closer. His chin rests against the top of your chest and he looks up at you with puppy eyes and his signature pout. “C’monn… I’ve been good all day.” His hands drop down to your hips, digging his fingers into them as his voice drops an octave, “‘Promise to show you a good time. You know Hannie always takes care of his baby-”

Your name gets called and the both of you jump. You chuckle and turn in his grasp, now standing sideways to respond to the person. He let his eyes return to your group, simply curious about who you interrupted his begging but was made even angrier by the expression that painted your ex’s face. They were frowning deeply behind their drink and glaring at the two of you, obviously wired up about his hands that were wrapped around you. Han stared back with the same fire, knowing all too well what the other person wanted. But then he smiled to himself.

As you casually chatted with your friend, Han let his hand fall down to your waist. He did it at an angle that only showed it off to your ex, making them watch as his hand slipped under your shirt. The fabric bulged out as he grabbed a handful of your tits, kneading the flesh there as they held eye contact. Eye contact that was held as he leaned in, hiding his face from everybody else as he wrapped his lips around your clothed nipple. He made a show of even sticking his tongue out and licking your nipple over your shirt while his other hand continued to squeeze the other boob from, what seemed like, the inside of your bra

Han’s ego inflated to the size of the sun as he watched your ex’s jaw drop. Their eyes went up to your face and, besides the blush that covered it, there wasn’t a single reaction. You were so used to it that the obscene action didn’t even make you flinch. Which only pissed your ex off more. They huffed and shook their head, walking to the door and mumbling something along the lines of ‘Fuck this.’ While everybody’s attention turned to the first person to leave the function, you turned to your boyfriend and shook your head at him. “Really? All that about behaving too.”

“Not my fault their edgy ass didn't like it. I licked it so it’s mine.” You laughed and parted from your boyfriend, returning back to the pool table. After that, it didn’t take long for everybody to separate. The people who didn’t have the balls to be the first to leave shortly made their way out after your ex did. Your boyfriend was one of them as well and quickly made it obvious to you that he genuinely wanted to leave soon, so you both bid your farewells and made your way outside.

The second your food hit the concrete, Jisung dragged you to the nearest empty alleyway. One that, if the sun wasn’t already set, would have been very easy to look down and see the two of you. Alas, your boyfriend did not have a single care about that. If anything, the thought of somebody seeing you only egged him on.

Han shoves you into the brick wall, slamming his lips against yours and running his hands all over your body. They started at your thighs, where he squeezed the flesh of your thighs before sliding up to your hips and doing the same. Then his hands rested at your hips for a moment. He was too distracted pushing his tongue past your lips to continue on with his expedition. Once you both found a comfortable rhythm and your hands ran up his arms, he started moving again.

This time he slowly ghosted his hands up your stomach and stopped at your chest where he squeezed your boobs tightly. Then he pulls away from your lips, smirking at you and pecking your cheek before dipping his head down. You feel his lips against your neck and you moan quietly before rolling your neck to the side, giving him more space to work with. He doesn't linger there for long though. As much as your boyfriend loves marking you up, he only leaves a single one to your neck before he dips even lower.

He leaves a trail of kisses on his way to your boobs and, before you have the chance to react or push him away, his hands tug your shirt up to your neck. “Ji- Wait until we get home, baby. We shouldn’t do this he-” He cuts you off by nibbling your right nipple through your bra. His other hand slides under the bottom hem of your bra, grabbing a handful of your boob and rubbing that nipple between his middle knuckles. You moan loudly and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging it in hopes that he would pull away but also stop and just take you to do this at home.

He moans against your clothed nipple and licks it seductively through the fabric, looking up at you with those brown boba eyes. Despite his lack of words, you already know what those pretty eyes want. You bite your lip and nervously look towards the entrance of the alley, watching as cars dart back and forth. But no people. “F-Fuck. Fine. But make it quick!” He smiles widely against you and nods.

His head pulls away from you for a moment, only to allow him to reach around and undo your bra. He doesn’t even bother taking it off of you, he just pushes it up with your shirt and dives back in. “Mine.” A loud moan leaves your lips as he suddenly bites the side of your tit, then he apologetically licks over his teeth marks. “Yours.” He smiles and grabs both of your boobs, fondling them as he alternates his attention to each nipple.

“God. I fucking love your tits, Jagi. And they’re all mine, right?” You nod and throw your head back as you moan, gripping his strands even tighter than before. He moans and bucks his hips into the air. “Answer me.” One of his hands moves down to your thighs and slides up under your skirt. It dips deeper, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your panties before wrapping around behind you and grabbing a handful of your ass cheek. “Jagiya… Say. It. A-gain.” He lands a sloppy slap to your ass with each word, smiling into your boob when your legs clench together.

“‘M yours, Ji! Please, babyy~” He wastes no time after that, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to poke out. The hand that was on your ass pumps his dick a few times as his other pushes your leg up, holding it up and giving him space to fuck into you. His mouth finally releases your nipple in favor of poking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he pushes in. Both of you moan at the feeling and lock eyes for a moment before he leans in and pushes his lips against yours.

He pulls away and leans down again, wrapping his lips around your neglected nipple. Then he tests the water with slow thrusts. Ones that speed up rather fast once he realizes how deep he can go in this position. The grip he has on your hips is bruising as he starts to slam his hips into yours.

“Mine. All fucking mine.”

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

[steddieas-shegoes]

Starving artist Steve Harrington just trying to pick up any job that’ll pay the bills so he can keep making art picking up a bartending gig at some album release event in LA because it pays a flat $500 for 4 hours of his time plus tips

The album ends up being a much-anticipated follow up to an extremely successful debut album for Corroded Coffin, a metal band that somehow made a huge dent across multiple genres with their Spotify Lounge cover session

The lead guitarist and singer, Eddie Munson, is known for being a charmer, but Steve doesn’t fall for it and that just makes Eddie work harder to impress him

Cut to Steve leaving well after the party wraps up, nearly $1000 richer (thank you drunk rich people who forgot they’d already tipped him $20) and running right into Eddie smoking behind the venue

He’s not supposed to smoke, messes with his voice, so he offers Steve his last cigarette and asks him how the night went. Steve’s honest and says he got enough money to pay off his rent for the month and have some leftover for groceries so he’s pretty happy

Eddie asks if bartending is what he always does and Steve unloads on him about his art, how he always knew it would lead to living thin, but that he didn’t mind if it meant he still got to create things that let people see the world differently

Eddie won’t admit it for at least four more months, but he fell in love with Steve that night, listening to the way he described his process and watching as his eyes lit up as he told him about a new thing he wanted to try with oils and clay pinch pots as soon as he had the money for studio time and materials

Eddie won’t admit it for another six months, but he “forgot” the nearly $5000 in cash in the jacket he let Steve borrow in hopes that his bills would be taken care of long enough for him to get whatever studio time he wanted

And Steve wouldn’t admit it for almost a year, but he knew all along that Eddie’s charm worked on him from the first time he ordered a fruity drink at the bar and called him Stevie

[starryjake]

ever since I saw jake from the most recent spotify interview I have not been ok the only thoughts are nerdy horny jake who can't get enough of fucking you like his brain goes mush and he can't even speak he's just whining and moaning and a drooling mess and imagine just pulling his hair which makes him go crazy like holy shit he's so majestic

PLEASEEEEEE NERDY HORNY JAKE ONE CHANCE.

just so desperate to make himself and you feel good :( stamina is endless bc he just wants to fuck you until he goes numb. is addicted to the feeling of your perfect warm walls wrapped around him and the way you pretty body moves when he’s fucking you hard into your mattress.

tries with every fiber of his BEING to make you squirt. literally just wants to be drenched in your arousal and will do whatever it takes to get it. includes eating you out for hours and hours until you’ve BOTH cum countless of times.

he literally loses himself and becomes such a desperate drooling mess :( he can’t take his hands off you and just wants to fuck you all night long. he’s so lucky to have you because you just take it, watching your boyfriend completely fall apart as he cums over and over.

[megtrns]

nsfw! drabbles based on lyrics from my spotify wrapped, 2024 (afab!reader) (minors dni!) ft. mtmte megatron, fortress maximus, tarn

open your hands// take a glass

In the beginning, he blamed his hunger on the fool’s energon. Having been tampered with, the chemo-sedatives were never meant to fulfill him. The rations were meant to keep him in line, and if the constant, dull, pang of hunger was a side effect, then Megatron’s put up with worse. 

Until he sees you underneath him, back arched and body flushed against his frame: skin to metal, chest to chassis.

He has never felt this starved in millenniums. 

You made a breathless, begging sound, fingers trembling against his shoulders as if attempting to squeeze — nails barely denting the surface of his armor. For a fraction of a second, his appetite was sated, curbed by the sight of your bodies intertwined against the sheets. But with the air growing taut and heavy, he suddenly finds himself acting out of blind desire, seized by a new kind of want. 

Dentae licking the column of your neck, he ignores the strain in his wires from being mass displaced for so long, choosing to taste you on his tongue instead.

He tastes the sea and hears you moan, ecstasy gripping his spark. Holding your body with a new kind of vigor, Megatron stared down at you as if he was a desert on the brink of drought. And he knew that for him, you would be his river, endless and giving, already spreading your legs to pull him closer to drink.

2. I must be dreaming // they don’t hear me 

The vastness of space had always made the Lost Light eerily quiet. Well, maybe that was courtesy to the absence of Rodimus and Co, who are currently indulging in the bars of Hedonia and have left the ship in the hands of bots who have no interest in going anywhere near the hab-suite of the mech who had taken Rung hostage and threatened to kill everyone else. So now, in the privacy of his room, you could only hear your breathing mixing with the faint, mechanical whirring of Fort Max’s cooling fans. 

Here, sprawled across his palm with the buttons of your shirt undone and everything beneath the waist removed, you braced yourself on your elbows to catch his optics. 

“ Do you still want to continue?” You whispered, afraid that anything louder would startle him away like a skittish animal. But any apprehension on your part was quickly dismissed when he nudged your knees apart with his nose, eyes red like rubies, gleaming under the silhouette. 

When he pressed his dentae flat against your cunt, heavy and warm and so wet, you were glad that the entire level was quiet. Because it meant the floor was empty, and Fort Max could indulge in the sounds you make all he wants, undisturbed and uninterrupted by the stillness of space outside.

3. If it hurts to breathe // open a window 

Tarn was never cruel to you. It sounded like a lie, but he has done nothing but treat you like you were made of glass: too precious to drop and even more inconvenient to replace. So you do your best to perform. Until the line between reality and pretence starts to blur, the same way the minutes begin to melt into months, and you find yourself no longer sure of where you stand.

Somewhere along the way, your arms are shaking, trembling under the weight of your body as it spasms in anticipation. It feels like you’ve been here for hours, thighs slick with sweat as they struggle to properly wrap themselves around Tarn’s waist.

You can see his eyes narrow in amusement behind the mask, enthralled if not obsessive, servos sure to leave marks against the right side of your hips. You had his spike halfway inside of you, and even with his mass displaced, you had a feeling this was as far you could go. But every time your body clenches down to reach its peak, he abruptly stops you, and you don’t understand what you did to warrant this kind of torture.

But then you catch him staring, unable to peel his optics away from the mess between your bodies. Tarn wants to see you like this — pleading and wet, helpless in his grip. Tarn was never cruel to you, so when you finally cave in and beg for him to give you what you want — what you need — he doesn’t hesitate to press you down the metal slab of his berth.

This time, when you pressed your face against the wiring of his neck, you didn't have to perform. All you needed to do was sing. Because there was nothing more beautiful to Tarn than the sound of you wanting.

[academicdisasterfic]

h/d microfic: the weekend by sza

The first in a little Spotify wrapped x Drarry microfic venture I’m doing this December; hence my 55th most played song this year and first attempt at infidelity. Kind of loved it tbh.

Warning: infidelity

Draco’s feral by the time his doorbell rings.

‘Sorry,’ Harry says. He’s still in his Ministry robes, and he smells like the Leaky.

‘Get in, then,’ Draco says coolly, although not coolly enough, because Harry smirks and pulls Draco in by the front of his cashmere jumper, straining the wool, and slamming him against the wall.

‘Thought about this all week,’ Harry whispers.

It’s the usual: they fuck once in the living room, then go to the bed, sweaty bodies intertwined on the silk sheets, kissing lazy and luxurious. Harry looks down at where Draco came over his stomach and swears, drags his fingers through it and offers it to Draco.

‘Look at your mess,’ he says, raising an eyebrow.

Draco keeps eye contact, swallows down three of Harry’s thick, calloused fingers, and sucks off his wedding band. He spits it across the room, aware that Harry is suddenly and alarmingly hard again.

‘I like mess, Potter.’

[half-an-hour-hence]

More Romy headcanons because the brainworms persist:

- Most Sundays, Remy wakes up early to make Rogue breakfast in bed.

- They enjoy slow dancing in the mansion’s living room when the others have gone to sleep. They’ll close all the doors and put on some music, making sure the volume is low so they don’t disturb everyone. It always involves a lot of banter and a lot of laughter. On more than one occasion they’ve stayed up past sunrise, still dancing, still talking, still laughing.

- Remy does card tricks to entertain Rogue when she’s stressed. Sometimes he messes up or drops a card on purpose just to see her smile.

- When they’re finally able to touch without Rogue’s powers hurting Remy, Rogue always falls asleep with her head on his chest, their hands locked together. They never wake up in the same way, though; they both move a lot in their sleep.

- They both have a photo of each other as their lock screen on their phones.

- If Remy’s going to be back from a mission later than expected, Rogue’ll stay up and sit by one of the windows downstairs, wrapped up in one of his trenchcoats with a hot drink to keep her awake. He’s told her many times she doesn’t have to do this, but her answer is always that she’s missed him a lot, and he finds he really can’t argue with that sentiment.

- Remy helps Rogue paint her nails, and then lets her paint his.

- Rogue buys Remy a unique pack of cards every year for his birthday. He ends up using all of them during training or on mission - all except the queen of hearts, which he keeps to remind him of her.

- When Rogue does something that surprises him or he wants to tell her something and can’t quite find the right words, Remy’ll speak softly in French to convey his thoughts. Rogue can’t understand, but she finds it endearing nonetheless.

- They both have playlists on Spotify with each other’s favourite songs on.

[pradabambie]

part 2 to this ask - rafexreader fight.

i'm finally back!! yay

let me know if you like this and remember request are always open <3 help your girl out in the creativity department hehe

it's been two weeks since you last saw or talked to rafe, and he was losing it.  

normally, you two were practically inseparable, spending every moment together, a routine rafe had grown accustomed to. 

his attempts to reach you were relentless.  

he spammed your phone with calls and texts, even emails. he not only contacted you, but all your friends. he even showed up at your house a couple times, your parents insisting on the instructions you gave them: you didn't want to see him. 

rafe even visited places you frequented, hoping for an encounter. today, luck was on his side. he spotted you sorting through the apples in your little pink gym shorts, and tapped your shoulder, careful not to startle you as you focused on the music coming out of your headphones. 

you looked up at him, rolled your eyes and pressed pause on the spotify app "leave me alone, rafe" you asserted. 

but as then you looked into his eyes, worn and red, dark bags under them. his hair was messy, and you could tell he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. his plea cut through the air. 

"please, i'm beggin you. let me buy you a coffee or something. i need to talk to you. i need you. i miss you." his words were interrupted by a shaky sigh that left your lips. 

"okay," you said, staring at him expressionlessly. 

"what?" 

"yes, okay, rafe. pick me up at six, and i'll have one cup of coffee with you. that's it." 

a sudden grin lit up his face. "yes! yes, of course. i'll pick you up—" 

"i have to go. see you later," you cut him off, not allowing him to finish. 

the hours leading up to the meeting felt like an eternity for rafe. this coffee date represented his chance to mend things. 

at exactly six, rafe, dressed in a shirt he remembered you liked, stood outside your door. you noticed his effort—neatly combed hair, a hint of cologne. 

you greeted him with a nod, signaling readiness to get it over with. rafe, attempting to conceal his nerves, led you to his car. 

the drive to the cafe was filled with awkward silences. once there, you both ordered drinks, enveloped in the familiar aroma of coffee. rafe took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. 

"i don't even know where to start," he admitted, eyes focused on his coffee cup. 

you remained silent, waiting for him to continue. rafe took a moment to choose his words carefully, realizing the significance of what he was about to say. 

"look, i messed up, okay? i took you for granted, i realize that. i miss us, and i can't stand being without you," he confessed, his gaze pleading for understanding. 

you listened quietly, sipping your coffee, contemplating whether his words carried genuine remorse or were just another attempt to manipulate your feelings. 

"i've been reflecting on everything, and i want to change. i want to be the person you deserve. please, give me another chance." 

your response was measured. "i want to believe you, rafe, i really do. but how do i know this isn't another one of your little games?" 

he pulled a red velvet box from his pocket, revealing a silver ring with your birthstone right in the center. "i got this for you. i know this doesn’t fix things, but it's a start. i remember you talking about a promise ring or something like that." 

your eyes lit up looking at the ring, you had to admit rafe's good taste remained intact. 

 “it's gorgeous, rafe, but you can't buy me with this, okay?" 

"i know. it's just a little visual aid. i want you for life. i promise to show you i'm committed to this, to you." 

you paused, studying his words. the silence heightened rafe's anxiety. 

"let's just say you're on probation," you finally said. "but i swear, rafe, mess up once, and—" 

before you could finish, strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you off your seat, showering you with kisses. "yes, baby, anything you say," rafe declared, filled with newfound hope.