#i have so much to do what am I doing here

[magicpiano]

Dark AU, Arkham patient! Jazz Fenton.

Sadly, Jazz Fenton is convinced that her brother Danny is still alive, that Phantom didn't kill him, that ghosts are actually sentient and not necessarily evil. Clearly she was brainwashed by Phantom who was pretending to be her brother.

The GIW graciously don't charge her with the crime of violating the anti-ecto act by protecting ghosts as a kindness to her parents who have done so much good work. She is sent to a mental hospital outside of Amity Park because they think she will recover better away from ghosts.

Well Arkham doesn't know what is about to hit it and Jazz is going to do whatever it takes to escape and save her brother.

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 2: April 2023

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

...I am definitely blown away by the reception this story got. I did not expect that AT ALL, so thank you very much...and here you have Chapter 2! Warnings: we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Bad Real Estate decisions, Max being a simp for his girl, discussion of former toxic relationships...I think that's it? If I missed something, let me know.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

"Isabelle," Max murmured against her lips, his hands firm but steady on her waist.

She barely heard him. Not when he kissed her like this—slow and deep, his thumb brushing over her hip, his body warm and solid against hers. She curled her fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer, tilting her head to kiss him harder. When he groaned softly, she took it as encouragement, pressing up against him and reaching for the hem of his shirt.

But just as her fingers grazed the skin of his stomach, Max caught her wrist, pulling back slightly.

"Wait."

She blinked up at him, lips parted, breath uneven. "What?"

His hands slid from her waist to her arms, a soothing touch. "We don’t have to rush."

Isabelle frowned. "I know we don’t have to. But I want to."

Max exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "I don’t want you to think this is just about that."

She froze, her mind stuttering over his words. "What?"

He studied her carefully, thumb rubbing small circles into her skin. "I like you. A lot. And I want you to know that I’m serious about this."

Isabelle stared at him, something in her chest tightening. No one had ever said that to her before. Every other boyfriend had been eager, had expected, had—

She swallowed. "You don’t… want me?"

Max’s expression softened, his grip on her tightening just slightly, like he wanted to anchor her in place. "Of course I do," he said, voice low, almost reverent. "I just don’t want you to think that’s all I want."

Her breath hitched.

She had never been anyone’s priority. Never been someone who wasn’t easy to forget, easy to leave behind. But here was Max, the most wanted man on the grid, telling her he wanted her—but not just her body.

Something like disbelief flickered in her chest. "You’re serious."

Max huffed a quiet laugh, brushing his nose against hers. "Very."

Isabelle swallowed again, her throat tight, and let herself relax into him. She let herself believe him.

"Okay."

Max smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Good."

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Isabelle: Max.

Max:  Good morning, Schatje.

Isabelle: Don’t start. Did you actually buy that penthouse?

Max: Yes.

Isabelle: And did you demand that I be the only architect allowed to work on it??

Max: Yes.

Isabelle: Do you have any idea how bad this looks?

Max: What’s bad about wanting the best?

Isabelle: MAX.

Isabelle: Do you know what people at work are saying now??

Max: That I have excellent taste in architects?

Isabelle: They think I got this project because of Charles.

Max: … What?

Isabelle: Oh yeah. The rumors are great. Apparently, I’m here because I’m a Leclerc, not because I actually worked for it.

Max: … That’s stupid.

Isabelle: Tell that to my coworkers.

Max: You think I’d let Charles pick my architect?

Isabelle: No, but they don’t know that.

Max: Then tell them.

Isabelle: Oh sure, that’ll go well. “Actually, my brother had nothing to do with it, my boyfriend just demanded that I be the only one allowed to work on his project.” That sounds so much better.

Max: Ok, maybe that doesn’t help.

Isabelle: You think??

Max: I just wanted to work with you.

Isabelle: Yeah, and now people are whispering about nepotism and favoritism and how I’m only here because of my family name.

Max: They clearly don’t know you.

Isabelle: I KNOW. But it’s still frustrating. I’ve worked my ass off, Max. I didn’t want my name getting me jobs. I wanted my work to.

Max: And it has. That’s why I picked you. Not because of your name. Because I trust you.

Isabelle: You could have given me a heads-up, you know.

Max: And you would have said no.

Isabelle: That is not the point.

Max: But would you?

Isabelle:: …

Max: That’s what I thought.

Isabelle: You really bought that penthouse just so I could design it?

Max: I bought that penthouse because I liked it. But I only wanted you working on it.

Isabelle: You’re impossible.

Max: And you’re brilliant.

Isabelle: Thank you.

Max: Always.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: You are NOT going to believe what Max did.

Emilie: That sentence could mean literally anything.

Isabelle: He bought the penthouse. THE penthouse. The one we talked about once in passing.

Emilie: …Okay, that’s insane, but also, congrats? You love that place.

Isabelle: THAT’S NOT THE POINT.

Emilie: Oh, I think it is.

Isabelle: He also demanded that I be the architect working on it. Wouldn’t sign anything unless my name was on the project.

Emilie: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Isabelle: It’s not funny!

Emilie: No, it absolutely is.

Isabelle: People at work are already saying I only got the project because of Charles!

Emilie: Oh. Yeah, I can see that.

Isabelle: Which is wrong. Because I didn’t get it because of Charles. I got it because of my boyfriend, which is somehow worse.

Emilie: You say worse. I say deeply, deeply romantic.

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: Isabelle. 

Emilie: Your rich, lovesick boyfriend is out here spending millions just to have an excuse to see you every day, and you’re MAD?

Isabelle: I AM TRYING TO BE PROFESSIONAL.

Emilie: He is trying to wife you.

Isabelle: I hate you.

Emilie: No, you don’t. Now tell me—when’s the housewarming, and how much champagne should I bring?

***

Instagram Story – @/isabelleleclerc

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Isabelle: You CANNOT keep doing this.

Max: Doing what?

Isabelle: Abusing your “professional client” status to drag me to fancy lunches.

Max: I’m not abusing anything. We have important business discussions to conduct.

Isabelle: You mean the penthouse where you’ve approved every single one of my plans without question?

Max: Exactly. We need to make sure I have no doubts.

Isabelle: You just want an excuse to take me to a Michelin-starred restaurant.

Max: And?

Isabelle: That’s not how professional client-architect meetings work.

Max: It is when I’m the client.

Isabelle: Max.

Max: You don’t have to say yes.

Isabelle: …

Max: But you want to.

Isabelle: That’s not the point.

Max: Just think of it as me paying you for your excellent work.

Isabelle: That’s what your actual payments are for.

Max: But those aren’t fun.

Isabelle: MAX.

Isabelle: People at work already think I got this job because of Charles. Now you’re making it worse.

Max: First of all, you got this job because you’re brilliant.

Max: Second, if they think that, they’re idiots.

Max: Third, I booked a table with a view.

Isabelle: Max.

Max: Don’t pretend you don’t want to come.

Isabelle: That’s not the point.

Max: You didn’t say no.

Isabelle: …

Max: I’ll see you at one.

Isabelle: I officially regret ever mentioning my favorite restaurants to you.

Max: That was your mistake, not mine.

Max: But I’ll make it up to you with dessert.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: You will not believe what Max is doing.

Emilie: Oh, this is already good. Go on.

Isabelle: He’s using the penthouse project as an excuse to take me to fancy lunches.

Emilie: …And the problem is???

Isabelle: Emilie. People at work already think I got this job because of Charles. If they find out I’m going to Michelin-starred restaurants in the middle of the day with a client, I will NEVER hear the end of it.

Emilie: Okay, but is he actually talking about the penthouse during these lunches?

Isabelle: He pretends to for about five minutes. Then he just orders my favourite foods for me and acts like we’re on a date.

Emilie: …So you’re saying you’re mad because your boyfriend is taking you on nice dates and feeding you good food?

Isabelle: THAT IS NOT THE POINT.

Emilie: Oh, I think it is the point.

Isabelle: I just—he’s impossible!

Emilie: What restaurant was it this time?

Isabelle: Le Louis XV.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle:

Emilie: You are sitting here complaining to me after being wined and dined at ALAIN DUCASSE’S RESTAURANT???

Isabelle: I AM TRYING TO BE PROFESSIONAL.

Emilie: Shut up and tell me what you ate!

***

Isabelle laid out fabric swatches on the table, neatly arranging them in rows. “These are the options for the curtains,” she said, keeping her voice professional. “I’ve chosen materials that complement the lighting and textures in the space while also being durable.”

Max picked up a swatch at random, turning it over like he’s actually considering it. “Yeah… so which one do you like best?”

Isabelle sighed. “That’s not the point, Max.”

“But it kind of is,” he countered, leaning back in his chair. “You know what looks good. I trust you.”

She exhaled, trying to keep the conversation on track. “My job isn’t to pick what I like, it’s to give you the best options based on your preferences and the space—”

“My preference,” Max interrupted, “is to not think too hard about curtain fabrics. So, tell me, which one would you put in your own place?”

She pressed her lips together but eventually pointed to a light cream fabric with a soft texture. “This one.”

Max immediately nodded. “Perfect. We’ll go with that.”

“That’s not how this works,” Isabelle protested.

“It is now.” He grinned, tapping the swatch like the decision is final.

She gave him a look but moves on, pulling out samples for the kitchen backsplash. “Alright, for the tiles—”

Max smirked. “What do you like best?”

Isabelle groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “You are impossible.”

Max chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself. “I don’t see the problem. You have good taste. I want my place to look good. This seems like a win-win situation.”

Isabelle lifted her head, giving him a flat look. “Max.”

“Yes?”

“You are literally paying me to make these decisions for you based on your preferences, not mine.”

Max shrugged. “Yeah, but my main preference is trusting you.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s not how this works.”

“It is when I’m the client.” His grin was infuriatingly smug.

Isabelle sighed, shaking her head, but she couldn’t quite hide the small smile creeping onto her face. “Fine. But if you hate something later, I’m telling everyone this was your fault.”

“I won’t hate it,” Max said easily, glancing at the tile samples. “So… which one would you use in your own kitchen?”

Isabelle groaned dramatically. “You are impossible.”

Max just smirked. “You already said that.”

Isabelle rubbed her temples like she’s trying to ward off a headache. “You know, most clients want a functional, cohesive design that suits their lifestyle.”

Max leant back against the kitchen island, watching her with amused eyes. “And I want a functional, cohesive design that you think looks good.”

“That’s not—” She exhaled sharply. “Okay, fine. I’d go with the marble option for the counters. It’s classic, it won’t date badly, and it works with the natural light in here.”

Max nodded like that’s exactly what he was going to pick anyway. “Perfect. Marble it is.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. “You’re just agreeing with me so I stop arguing with you.”

“Maybe.” He grinned. “Or maybe I actually value your opinion.”

She huffed, flipping through the fabric swatches again. “Alright, what about your bedroom curtains? Darker shades are better for blocking light in the mornings.”

Max hummed, looking over the options. “Which one do you like?”

“Max.”

“What? You just said you’re designing for functionality. You clearly think one of these is the best choice.”

She muttered something under her breath, then points at a deep navy fabric. “This one. It’ll keep the room dark, and it’s not too heavy for the space.”

“Done.”

Isabelle levelled him with a suspicious look. “You’re making this way too easy.”

Max shrugged. “I told you. I trust you.” He gestures around the penthouse. “Besides, I plan to spend most of my time here with you. Might as well make sure you don’t hate it.”

She stilled for half a second, but then rolls her eyes like she’s not affected. “Professionalism, Max.”

Max just smirked, reaching for another set of samples. “Alright, Miss Leclerc, what’s next?”

Isabelle pointedly ignored the way her stomach does an annoying little flip at his words and refocuses on the task at hand. She flipped open her notebook, determined to keep things professional. "We still need to finalize your living room furniture. You said you wanted a sectional, right?"

Max nodded, leaning slightly over her shoulder to glance at her notes. "Yeah, something big enough to stretch out on. And for the cats."

She glanced up at him. "And for guests?"

Max blinked. "I mean, sure. If I have guests."

Isabelle sighed. "Do you ever think about designing your space for other people?"

"I am thinking about other people," he countered easily. "I’m thinking about you. You like to sit in the corner with a book, so we should get one with a deep chaise. And you like soft blankets, so whatever fabric we pick needs to feel nice."

She stared at him for a beat too long. "You—" She shakes her head. "You notice a lot more than you let on."

Max shrugged. "I like watching you."

Isabelle blinked rapidly and turned back to her samples before he could see the flush creeping up her neck. Professionalism. She needed to focus.

"Okay," she said, clearing her throat. "Fabric choices for the sectional—"

Max leant forward, already grinning. "Which one do you like?"

Isabelle groaned, slamming her notebook shut. "You are impossible."

Max just laughed. "I’m making sure my designer is happy with her work. That’s important, right?"

"That’s not how this works."

"Sure it is," he said breezily, nudging her shoulder with his. "If you think this place should feel like me, then I think it should feel like you, too."

Isabelle gripped her pen a little too tightly. "You’re insufferable."

Max grinned. "And yet, here you are."

Isabelle exhaled slowly, flipping through the swatches with more force than necessary. “Fine. You want my opinion? This one.” She pulled out a deep green fabric, soft under her fingers. “It’s comfortable, durable, and it won’t clash with anything else.”

Max reaches out, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “It’s nice.” Then he grins. “You just like it because it’s your favourite colour.”

She paused. “That is not why I picked it.”

“Sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “But I remember you said you like green because it reminds you of home. And I want you to feel at home here.”

Isabelle’s fingers tighten around the fabric. “Max—”

“So, green it is,” he cut in before she can say anything else, grabbing the sample and setting it aside. Then he leans back, smug. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You have to stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like this apartment is for both of us.”

Max tilted his head. “Well, you are spending a lot of time here.”

“That’s because I’m working.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, unconvinced. “And when the project is done?”

Isabelle pressed her lips together, not wanting to answer that question. Because the truth is, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to think about finishing this penthouse and walking away.

Max must have sensed her hesitation because his expression softened. “You know, you don’t have to leave when it’s done.”

She swallowed, trying to ignore the way her heart pounds. “Max.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, voice light but eyes serious. “I don’t mind having you around.”

Isabelle forced herself to focus back on her notebook. Professionalism. Boundaries. She had to remember them.

But as she moved on to the next decision—choosing dining chairs—she couldn’t  help but feel like she’s already losing that battle.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Max is going to drive me insane.

Emilie: What did he do now?

Isabelle: He refuses to make a single decision about the penthouse. Not one.

Emilie: Oh, this is going to be good.

Isabelle: I showed him flooring samples, and he just said, “Which one do you like best, schatje?” I asked him about the kitchen walls, and he went, “I trust your taste.”

Emilie: He’s so in love with you, it’s actually disgusting.

Isabelle: EMILIE, I NEED HIM TO HAVE AN OPINION.

Emilie: He does. His opinion is that your opinion is the only one that matters.

Isabelle: That’s not how this works! He’s the one who has to live there!

Emilie: You will be the one living there with him, if he gets his way. He’s just pretending it’s not obvious.

Emilie: He’s setting up your future home together and letting you build it exactly the way you want. That man would let you paint the walls hot pink if it made you happy.

Emilie: He’s letting you pick everything because he wants you to feel at home.

Emilie: Tell me I’m wrong.

Isabelle: I hate you.

Emilie: No, you don’t. Now, if you suggested, hypothetically, that the whole kitchen should be neon green, how fast do you think he’d say yes?

Isabelle: He wouldn’t even hesitate.

Emilie: This man is whipped.

Emilie: He’s so gone for you. It’s actually hilarious.

Isabelle: This is a nightmare.

Emilie: Just be glad he’s not insisting on Red Bull colors.

Isabelle: I take it back. It could be worse.

***

Instagram Story – @/isabelleleclerc

****

"I think I’m falling in love with him."

Isabelle hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It just slipped out, quiet and uncertain, as she sat across from Emilie at their usual café.

Emilie, mid-sip of her drink, slowly set her cup down and arched an eyebrow. “No shit.”

Isabelle groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I mean too fast,” she muttered. “It’s too fast.”

Emilie leaned back, unimpressed. “Define ‘too fast.’”

“I don’t know.” Isabelle exhaled, sitting up and fiddling with the edge of her napkin. “It’s like—I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For something to go wrong. For him to change.”

Emilie just stared at her for a long moment before sighing. “Belle. He’s treating you better than your own family ever did. That’s not ‘too fast.’ That’s just right.”

“That’s not—” Isabelle started, but Emilie held up a hand.

“Let’s review,” she said, counting on her fingers. “He listens to you. He remembers things you like. He makes time for you. He prioritizes you. That’s the bare minimum of what you deserve, Belle. And you know damn well you’ve never had it before.”

Isabelle swallowed hard.

Emilie’s expression softened. “Look, I get it. It’s scary when someone actually cares about you, especially when you’re used to being the afterthought. But Max? He’s not going anywhere. And you? You’re not falling too fast. You’re just finally being caught.”

Isabelle exhaled, staring down at her coffee.

“Also,” Emilie added, smirking, “you’re absolutely screwed, because I think you’ve been in love with him for weeks.”

Isabelle groaned again, and Emilie just laughed.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Emilie. I think something is wrong with Max.

Emilie: Oh god, what happened??

Isabelle: He just gave me flowers.

Emilie: …And???

Isabelle: There’s no occasion. No reason. He just handed them to me and said, “Thought you’d like these.”

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: And then he pulled out my favorite wine. Already chilled. Already opened. Just there.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: AND THEN he sat with me. No phone, no distractions, just me. He asked about my day. Actually listened.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING MY NAME.

Emilie: Because you’re being so stupidly loved and acting like it’s a problem.

Isabelle: I just don’t know what to do with it. I feel like I should be doing something in return??

Emilie: You are. You exist. You let him love you. That’s enough.

Isabelle: But I’ve never—no one’s ever—

Emilie: I know. But this is what it’s supposed to be like.

Isabelle: …It feels weird.

Emilie: You’ll get used to it.

Isabelle: Will I?

Emilie: Yeah. And then one day, it won’t feel weird at all. It’ll just feel like love.

Isabelle: …Huh.

Emilie: Huh, she says. Like I haven’t been telling her this for years.

Isabelle: Shut up.

Emilie: Nope. Now go drink your fancy wine and let your boyfriend adore you.

Isabelle: …Fine.

Emilie: That’s my girl.

***

Instagram Post – @/isabelleleclerc

Comments:

@/arthur_leclerc: ??? From who?

@/charles_leclerc: Since when do you get flowers??

@/emilie_abadie: 👀👀👀

@/F1GossipQueen: OMG IS ISABELLE SOFT LAUNCHING A BOYFRIEND???

↳@/paddockprincessx: We are watching this situation VERY closely.

@/leclercsiblingtea: The Leclerc brothers seem deeply unsettled by this turn of events. 

@/lorenzotl: Be honest. Did you buy these for yourself?

***

Isabelle wasn’t trying to snoop.

She was just tidying up a little while Max was in the kitchen—because, frankly, he lived like someone who was always on the road (which he was). That’s how she spotted the iPad on the coffee table, screen still on. She had only glanced at it in passing, but then something caught her eye.

French lessons.

Her first reaction was confusion. Then amusement. Then something warmer, something that made her heartbeat do something a little ridiculous in her chest.

“Max?” she called out, picking up the iPad.

“Yeah?” His voice floated back from the kitchen, followed by the sound of the fridge opening. “Do you want some water?”

She walked in, holding up the iPad like it was evidence in a trial. “Are you secretly moving to Paris?”

Max turned around, brow furrowing. “What?”

She waved the iPad at him. “Since when are you learning French?”

His face did not do a good job of hiding his guilt. His eyes flickered to the screen, then back to her, and he shifted on his feet like he was debating snatching it out of her hands. “Oh. That.”

“Yes, that.” Isabelle crossed her arms, fighting a smile. “What’s the story, Verstappen? Career change? Planning to start giving post-race interviews in French?”

Max sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I live in Monaco. Figured it was time I actually learned, you know, the main language people speak here.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“What?” He shrugged. “It makes sense.”

“It does make sense.” She took a step closer. “Except you’ve lived in Monaco for years and have never cared before.”

Max glanced at the iPad again, like it would somehow save him. When it didn’t, he exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Fine. Maybe I had another reason.”

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “And that reason is?”

His ears were turning pink. “You.”

She blinked. “Me?”

“You switch to French when you’re with your family,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at her. “Or when you’re distracted. Or when you get really excited about something. And I—I wanted to understand you better.”

Oh.

Oh.

Isabelle stared at him, warmth flooding her chest. “Max…”

He sighed again, clearly bracing himself for teasing. “Look, if you think it’s stupid—”

“I don’t,” she interrupted, her voice soft. “I think it’s… really sweet.”

Max relaxed slightly, still wary. “Yeah?”

She smiled. “Yeah.” Then she nudged him. “Okay, say something.”

He groaned. “Now?”

“Yes, now.”

Max hesitated. Then, after a deep breath, he said—slowly, carefully—“Je veux tout comprendre de toi.”

I want to understand everything about you.

Isabelle’s breath caught.

She looked up at him, and suddenly, the teasing was gone. Her heart was thudding, her fingers itching to reach for him. “Max.”

He shifted again. “Did I say it wrong?”

She shook her head. Then, without thinking, she leaned up and kissed him.

Max made a startled sound but recovered quickly, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer. When she finally pulled away, his grin was dazed.

“So,” he said, slightly breathless. “That was because of the French, huh?”

She laughed, tucking her head against his shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to keep practicing.”

Max tightened his hold on her. “Done.”

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Max is learning French.

Emilie: ???

Emilie: Like YOUR Max? The one who has lived in Monaco forever and has survived just fine with English and Dutch?

Isabelle: Yes!!!

Isabelle: I found his iPad open with some French lesson on it, and when I asked, he said he lives in Monaco so it was about time he learned.

Emilie: That… does make sense.

Isabelle: But then I pressed him, and he admitted he’s actually doing it because of ME.

Emilie: Oh.

Emilie: Ohhhh.

Emilie: Isabelle. He’s in LOVE love.

Isabelle: I don’t even know what to do with this information.

Emilie: Girl, you kiss him stupid, that’s what.

Isabelle: I already did that!!!

Emilie: Good. Keep doing it.

Emilie: Good for him. He’s putting in the effort. He’s out here grinding on Duolingo just to impress.

Isabelle: That’s what’s shocking me the most… Nobody has ever done that for me before.

Emilie: Well, he’s not just anybody, is he?

Isabelle: No. He’s Max.

Emilie: Exactly. And Max Verstappen? He doesn’t do anything halfway.

***

Text Messages:Max Verstappen & Gianpiero Lambiase

Max: Need your help.

GP: If this is about strategy on a Monday at 11 in the evening, I’m hanging up.

Max: It’s not.

GP: Then what?

Max: Isabelle’s birthday is coming up. I need a gift.

GP: …You do realize just because I’m married, I’m not a fountain of romantic wisdom, right?

Max: Who else am I supposed to ask?

GP: Literally anyone else?

Max: You’re the only one I trust not to be an idiot about this.

GP: I feel like that was a compliment and an insult at the same time.

Max: Just help me.

GP: Alright, what are you thinking?

Max: Something personal. Not just perfume or a handbag.

GP: Already doing better than most.

Max: That’s a low bar.

GP: True. Jewelry? Something meaningful?

Max: I was thinking emeralds. Her birthstone. And it matches her eyes.

GP: …Wow. You’re actually in deep.

Max: Not the point.

GP: Sure, sure. Bracelet? Necklace? Something she can wear every day?

Max: Yeah. Probably a bracelet.

GP: Go for it. But just so you know, if you keep setting the bar this high, you’re making the rest of us look bad.

Max: Not my problem.

GP: Yeah, that tracks. Let me know what you pick.

Max: Will do. Thanks.

GP: Anytime. Just remember, I’m charging a consulting fee next time.

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Max: This is Max. Isabelle’s Max.

Emilie: …Hello, Isabelle’s Max. To what do I owe the honor?

Max: I need help. It’s about Isabelle’s birthday.

Emilie: Go on.

Max: I need Isabelle’s wrist size.

Emilie: …What.

Max: Her wrist size.

Emilie: That’s it? No explanation? No context? Just casually asking for her wrist size like that’s a normal thing?

Max: Yes.

Emilie: I don’t trust you.

Max: That feels unnecessary.

Emilie: UNNECESSARY? MAX, I HAVE SPENT YEARS FIGHTING A LOSING BATTLE AGAINST HER FAMILY’S COMPLETE INABILITY TO GET HER A DECENT GIFT.

Max: …

Emilie: Charles once got her a Ferrari-branded umbrella. ”In case you ever come to a race and it rains.”

Max: …

Emilie: Arthur once got her a stuffed animal from an airport gift shop, because he nearly forgot entirely one year. Just straight-up forgot Belle had a birthday.

Max: …

Emilie: Lorenzo got her candle last year. A SINGLE. GENERIC. VANILLA. CANDLE. SHE DOESN’T EVEN LIKE VANILLLA; SHE GETS HEADACHES FROM IT.

Max: That’s actually embarrassing.

Emilie: Thank you. But I’m not done.

Max: Oh no.

Emilie: Their mother gave Isabelle a cookbook.

Max: That’s… not the worst?

Emilie: It was a diet cookbook.

Max: …

Max: What the hell.

Emilie: EXACTLY.

Max: And you’re saying this happens every year?

Emilie: EVERY. YEAR. Max, I have a Google Doc. I have an entire spreadsheet dedicated to “How to Make Sure Isabelle Actually Gets Something Nice.” I am fighting for my life out here.

Max: Not anymore.

Emilie: Wait.

Max: Attachment: Image of three emerald bracelets

Max: I’m thinking emeralds. It’s her birthstone. Matches her eyes.

Emilie:

Emilie:

Emilie: MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN.

Max: What.

Emilie: YOU ALREADY PICKED OUT OPTIONS???

Max: I was narrowing it down.

Emilie: NARROWING IT DOWN. LIKE A FUNCTIONING HUMAN MAN. LIKE SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY PUTS THOUGHT INTO GIFTS. LIKE SOMEONE WHO KNOWS HER FAVORITE GEMSTONE AND HOW IT MATCHES HER EYES.

Max: …Yes?

Emilie: DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW INFURIATING THIS IS FOR ME. I HAVE BEEN CARRYING THIS FAMILY.

Max: So you don’t know her wrist size?

Emilie: FIFTEEN CENTIMETERS. 

Max: Appreciate the help.

Emilie: Oh, and just for future reference—her ring size is 50.

Max: …

Max: Just for future reference?

Emilie: Just saying. You never know.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1GossipQueen: 🚨 UM. Just saw Max Verstappen in a jewelry store in Miami. He was looking at bracelets and asking about emeralds.

@/OversteerAndTears: Not me immediately googling “Max Verstappen girlfriend emerald jewelry” like I’m gonna find something.

@/SoftForMax: Max Verstappen. In a jewelry store. Asking about emeralds. Who is she.

@/F1GossipQueen: He was so serious about it too. Like asking the salesperson about different settings and cuts.

@/CheckeredHeart: SETTINGS??? DIFFERENT CUTS?!?!

@/F1GossipQueen: Yes!!! And he was like, “She likes emeralds, but I want something subtle.” Like WHO, MAX??

@/FastCarsAndDrama: “She likes emeralds.” SHE??? I’M GONNA THROW UP.

@/MaxIsMyGOAT: So we’re just casually learning that Max Verstappen not only has a girlfriend but knows her jewelry preferences well enough to mention them in a store???@/OrangeArmy82: Maybe it’s for his mom or sister. We don’t know it’s for a girlfriend.

[fulgrims-big-naturals]

Oh gosh not to sound awful but like I’ve had 30+ people come and tell me I’ve done good at a thing or they liked my performance. Like not in total obviously like when I used to play the cello or do theatre or when I did a speech for a professional development thing (that one had people asking me to share it with researchers and stuff) and I gotta be honest it don’t feel so good. It’s definitely because I didn’t care about that stuff. I don’t care how many people tell me I played the cello well or that they were moved by that speech I wrote two hours before the deadline I really don’t care about either of those things and I don’t care about what they think about them. I’d be pretty chuffed if 30+ people liked my sewing though, or said I sang well. I’d really like that. But even then I’d always be thinking “damn I got more praise when I didn’t even try” Is that normal? Like people keep making that 1 like = 1 person comparison but can anyone tell me if 30 people is actually a big deal? Like have these people not gone outside enough or have I done too much public speaking and performing? I am not being rhetorical I am being genuine which of us is the one that is skewed here? I am asking for answers to my question.

Something I found on Twitter that really puts things in perspective as a creator.

[salemlunaa]

heyyy, love your page so much 💕💖🫶🏼🎉

Apologies if this is a stupid question but how do I deal with the guilt of leaving this version of myself in the cr to suffer? Like ik I alr have what I want but a part of me feels... guilty?for leaving my cr self here to deal with this.. I'm not sure how to explain tbh

now this is a very good question

dealing with the guilt of letting go…

in terms of reality shifting and the void state

a lot of people deal with the “survivor’s guilt” of shifting, you make it out of the gutter but there’s a version of you that didn’t, multiple actually. And you just can’t help but think about them.

what you need to realise is that all of these versions of you, even the ones you aren’t aware of yet are all you. every single one, although if you choose to permashift or respawn you won’t be conscious of this version of you, it will still be apart of you.

The version of you reading this now wanted a way out, and by shifting timelines or inducing the void state, you are just honouring their deepest desires. The desired life you will experience will be like a love letter to someone you didn’t even know existed.

You living, laughing, experiencing all emotions good and bad, loving, giving, receiving and learning in this new life of yours is a testament to all the times this version of you thought about how there had to be more than this, all the times you cried, all the times you doubted but still chose to push through.

This version of you isn’t truly being abandoned, it’s evolving into the new reality you desire.

That past version of you still exists as a memory, one that you may not be aware of but still, a feeling, an echo woven into who you are now, but they are not suffering they are at rest.

They fulfilled their purpose by carrying you to the point where change became possible. Just as a snake sheds its old skin or a butterfly leaves its cocoon, that version of you wasn’t meant to stay; they were meant to transform. Holding onto guilt won’t bring them peace, but fully stepping into the life they once dreamed of will.

Every version of you still lives within you, not as something separate, but as the layers that built who you are now, all these versions of you are the building blocks to who you are now in your conscious mind.

Their fears, hopes, and lessons didn’t disappear; they became the foundation for your growth. You’re not leaving them behind, you are carrying them forward, transformed into something greater. This version of you wanted more for a reason, and when you get that, you must lay this all to rest.

You are “I AM”, there’s more to you than the person you’re shifting to be. You are all of these realities and they are you. Not to sound corny but they are apart of you, and always will be.

[aninipanin1]

Lap pillows with Isagi? (I can imagine the rest of the guys getting jealous)

WHY HIM?

Notes: RAHHH I love Isagi so much, my loml, hope you enjoy!

"What the hell?!"

"Hm? Did you say something, Yukimiya-san?" You asked, tilting your head at the sudden outburst from the brunette player. You were busy tapping on your tablet, answering emails and other chores you were meant to finish as you ate in the canteen.

It was yet another day in Blue Lock, and the cafeteria was still empty except for you and Isagi until Yukimiya entered the cafeteria and found you sitting on a chair. Oh, but it definitely was not the one that caught his attention. Instead, his eyes glared at the slumbering striker that used the rest of the chairs as some sort of bed, with his head on your lap.

It definitely pissed him off, especially with how Isagi had his arms wrapped around your waist while sleeping away on your lap.

"How long has been here?"

"Oh, you mean Isagi-san? He was having a headache earlier, so I said he could sleep on me if he wanted to. So he did."

"Did he now?"

He swore to god that the veins on his forehead were so close to popping. What the hell was that bastard thinking? The shameless audacity to do this was just appaling to the brunette.

Okay, maybe it was because of the green envy running on his veins because he knows he does not have the guts to do this to you (he has a reputation as the gentleman to uphold) but damn, he did not know thag Isagi can be this...upfront.

Now, maybe it was you who offered to do this. It would not be surprising with your empathetic and caring nature, but are you thag clueless and oblivious, that you can let a random guy rest his head on top of your thighs.

"Damn, Isagi..."

He looked to be comfortable with it, too, softly snoring away and face nearly burying his face on your stomach.

It did not take long before the other guys also entered the cafeteria, and at first, it was all good and peaceful, probably because the exhaustion of practice wore them out. Though, they have yet to see the spectacle Yukimiya was currently glaring at.

But of course, it did not take long before the players searched for you. There you were, sitting peacefully, eyeing your tablet while eating, and on your lap was one Isagi...oh.

Oh.

Oh.

"What the fuck?" Barou let out the coldest curse he ever mustered out as he took in what he was seeing.

"Yeah, what the fuck indeed." Niko blinked, glaring at the slumbering raven haired striker.

"Am I the only who has the urge to grab his hair and drag him out of his position?"

"Nope. Do it, no balls." Otoya answered a pissed off Karasu, who looked about ready to jump someone.

"I think you guys are overreacting..." Nagi pouted, feeling jealous as well, but seeing as he always finds himself resting on your thighs when he is feeling extra lazy, he was not as worried as the others were.

"No, we're not. Isagi is dead." Reo said, not even paying attention that it was his turn to get his food from the machines.

"Y/n-chan! What happened with Isagi?" Bachira hopped to the seat next to you, seeing as the others were still too stunned to overtake it (they would always fight for the chairs closest to you, its like a whole Olympic game itself, believe me).

"Hm? Isagi-san was not feeling well, so I let him rest here!" And as if you could not make them anymore jealous, your hand found itself patting and massaging Isagi's hair to try and help relieve any left over pain from his headache even if he is still asleep.

The whole cafeteria was quiet. It is much too quiet than it usually is. But if you could only stop being oblivious for once, the hawk like glare everyone was giving Isagi was noise enough to scare and bother someone who has mental and common stability.

Too bad most of the Blue Lockers do not have that.

"He must have saved the world to be this damn lucky." Chigiri rolled his eyes, before continuing to eat his meal.

"Are we even sure that the headache is real or its just a ploy of his." Aiku doubted. Damn, now he wants to know how it feels to also lay his head on your thighs.

"Dunno, that's unlike Isagi. But still, no forgiveness on him. Traitor." Hiori sassed. Oh, he is definitely getting back at him at practice when he feels supposedly better.

"Oh, wait. Isagi-san, wakey, wakey. You need to eat to better your headache." You said in a whisper, gently shrugging the boy's shoulder.

With a groan, Isagi opened his eyes before standing up, still a bit groggy from his sleep. As he adjusted, you took that time to get him his food as quick as you can before putting it in front of him on the desk.

"Here, eat up! Say 'ahh'." You raised up a chopstick of pork to him to which the boy blushed at, before shyly accepting the pampering treatment.

"Now I wanna be sick. Come on, someone sneeze on me." Lorenzo commented from another table, moving Niko by his shoulders urging the boy to do something as if he knows how to make someone intentionally sick in the first place.

"Wifey material. For real, for real." Shidou blabbered, being stopped by literally Karasu and Nanase from going over to you and Isagi and doung whatever the weird demon had in his mind.

"Feed me too, Y/n-nie!" Charles hopped from his seat to where you are, which pissed off Rin so much he started chanting some curses and insults under his breath that he looked like he was summoning dozens of malevolent spirits.

"Um...okay, Charles-san. But maybe after Isagi-san, since he is sick." You happily accepted, although a bit confused as to why he wants you to feed him too.

"No one is stopping me from stomping on Charles."

"Kunigami no-"

"Kaiser-san, please don't bully Isagi-san. He was not feeling well earlier." You frowned at the German striker who is once again, acting like the cliche mean girl towards Isagi who just glared back at the man.

"Oh, no. Listen, häschen, I have a score to settle with little Yoichi here." Kaiser, who was not present earlier at lunch, heard what happened through word of mouth, and needless to say, he was jealous and pissed that his number one rival in the sport, is also his number one rival in another area.

"Leave me alone, Kaiser."

"How about you do that first with Y/n? Not be a creep?" The blonde striker retorted back with a smug smile on his face. The rest of the Bastard players just entered the field and did not even blimk when they saw Isagi and Kaiser fighting again.

It was another ordinary Wednesday for the German Stratum.

Meanwhile, you just looked at the tension between the two with confusion, trying your best to understand what they are even arguing about again.

'Is this what they call sexual tension? Well, do they even swing that way?'

ADDITIONAL TIME:

"Repeat what I said again, Y/n." Chris smiled, coaxing the girl who looked at him with understanding and determination to obey his words.

"No man is ever worthy of me. Especially hormonal football teenagers. And...um...what was after that?"

"You...?"

"Oh! I deserve someone who is a man who will take care of me well, instead! And if I don't find one, its better for me to be a single, free lady."

"That's my kid!" The blonde coach laughed loudly, patting your head as you smiled back at him, happy that you pleased your mentor and father figure.

Growing up, your father was not the best paternal guidance you had. He does not care about your emotional and psychological needs, only there to improve your intelligence. He never taught you life lessons about the world and how to survive its cruelty.

But now, it seems like you have many father figures (and a maternal figure) to learn the things you were never taught about before. So of course, you paid the utmost attention to the coaches' words and obey them as best you could.

"You're dooming Y/n to a lonely life?" Snuffy raised an eyebrow at Chris, a little doubtful and suspicious of the English man's words.

"Oh, come on! As a man who has been a teen, I know how most teens' minds work. They have to learn how to be a man first in order to treat the princess right. And I'll be the one to make sure of that!" Chris retorted at the Ubers' coach, which just led to Snuffy sighing before patting your head as well.

"He is right at some points. But don't take most of his advice too seriously."

"Hey!"

I know its short guys but pls bear with me I am experiencing writer's block again rahhhh. I think its because its my summer break and my mind is wired to just sleep and scroll lmaoo. Hope yall enjoyed this still though

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

[p1astr81]

friend is just a word

In which: you’re drunk off your ass and accidentally mistake formula one driver for a friend.

Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

warnings: excessive alcohol consumption, not proofread😵‍💫

an: TYSM FOR 600 FOLLOWERS🥳🥳🥳

The music was blasting, light flares obstructing your vision while you tried to stumble back to your friends on weakening legs. The drink in your hand kissed the rim off the glass every now and then, but you hadn’t spilt any of it.

Your shoulder bumped into another, and you went to apologize, but your thoughts were thrown off by his familiar face.

If his face was familiar, he had to be a friend. Right?

A hand of yours gripped onto his shoulder for stability. He eyed the hand with a raised brow, but neglected to verbally question it.

It felt like your brain was trying to communicate with you, but it couldn’t penetrate the fog caused by the alcohol. “I didn’t know you were here!” His brown hair flopped when he flinched away from you, your voice far too loud for his ears to bare. “How have you been?! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Uh, good. I guess?” You didn’t catch his nervous glances.

“That’s amazing! You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I got that call back about the job with sky sports.”

He raised his brows in interest. “Oh really? What for?” His head cocked to the side.

“A second interview! I didn’t even know they did second interviews. I thought it was just one and done!” You laughed, an irregular high-pitched sound.

By now, Oscar was quite sure you weren’t aware of who he really was. Just that you thought you knew him. “Probably so they know you won’t bother the drivers.”

You feigned offense. “What! I would never do such a thing!”

Ironic, Oscar thought, you’re kind of doing it right now. But he didn’t really care. He actually found it kind of amusing.

He chuckled. “No, I’m sure you’d never bother them.”

You folded over in laughter. He didn’t even know he said anything funny. “Oh, you are too funny, Oscar!” You pretended to wipe a tear.

Strangely, that action might’ve brought you to your senses.

“Piastri.” Was the only word you spoke. It sat on the fringes of inaudible.

The panic that washed over your features was too humorous. He couldn’t not grin.

And then you went white. “I’m so sorry. I thought- oh, god.” You hid your face behind your hand. “I did not mean to bother you. I thought you were one of my friends.”

Oscar only chuckled. “I figured. No worries. It was pretty funny to watch.”

Maybe, just maybe, a part of him was glad it was him and not some other random guy in the bar.

“I’m gonna- yeah I’m gonna go back to my actually friends now.” You rambled. “Sorry!” A squeak.

The conversation didn’t end when you left, because then he had to return to his own party. Lando made fun of him for it.

“Awe! Osco finally found a girlfriend!” He teased, earning a head shake from Oscar.

“She was just drunk.” He waved off.

But lando wouldn’t let up. The whole night, he made off handed comments. He pointed her out anytime he saw her. And at one point,

“I’m gonna go talk to her. Be a wingman.” He flashed Oscar a toothy, mischievous grin and winked at him. Before Oscar could object, he was off.

You were laughing your ass off at something one of your friends said when a slightly slurred, British voice interjected. “Hey girls!” He greeted the group, a bright smile, before turning his gaze to you. “Hi.” He repeated, trying not to laugh at your overly shocked expression. “You see that guy in the blue shirt? Yeah, he wants your number but is too much of a pussy to ask for it himself, so here I am.” He explained with copious amounts of amusement.

Your brain took a minute to catch up with him. “Uh, uhm- yeah. Sure. I guess. Uh.” You scrambled to find something to write on and write with. “I have no paper.”

“Right.” Lando handed you his phone, open to the notes app. He couldn’t stop grinning as your fingers fumbled to type in your number, and when he said his goodbyes, and when he returned to Oscar.

“Got it. You can thank me by making me your best man.” He shrugged, too cocky for how easy the situation was.

“Yeah, whatever.” Oscar dismissed, but he took the number and saved it in his phone anyway.

He made a mental note to call you tomorrow, after your inevitable hangovers faded away.

[lulujamesspencer]

I think for sensitivity/authenticity readers you need to approach it like any other outside reader or editor: approach it as you would a therapist and pick one that fits with your style of working, actually reads and likes your genre, and will be able to give their edits/critiques in a way that is accurate AND kind. This is especially important for neurodiverse folks (solidarity fist bump to my RSD neurodiverse folks).

Story: About 10 years ago, I graduated seminary and had an idea for a theological non-fiction book on mulit-faith spirituality, which also strayed into politics and other issues. I wrote an introduction that I thought was good and interesting, so I sent it to someone who I thought would give me good advice on some of the topics, since she had experience in those areas, and maybe point out if I'd gone too far afield with some of the topics.

When I got their comments back, it was devastating and soul crushing. They ripped it to shreds, and, in areas I thought we shared similar opinions they shredded my manuscript as if they put it in a wood chipper then stomped on the mulch. Much of it the shredding was due, I think, to a mininterpretation of my wider neurodivergent thinking, but it may just be that I didn't explain myself right or... well, I just don't know, since it was hard to get past their criticisms and telling me how I was completely stupid and wrong about all of it. Now, if their comments were more like, "I don't think I agree with this statement. Did you mean for it to come off saying XYZ?" of "This doesn't happen in my experience, could you explain what your thought process was here?" I probably would have been fine, but instead they were angry and mean and assumed I didn't have knowledge about certain areas when I actually did have extensive knowledge. It was my first foray into non-fiction and as I said earlier, it was soul crushing. I really wanted to write that book, and still wish I could, but to this day I can't even start writing non-fiction without thinking about that and getting extrememly anxious. (And yes, I go to therapy, etc etc) For my fiction stuff, I'm much more careful about who I let read my early drafts. My Wife is my first reader/listener and she loves scifi and fantasy and she's able to give me feedback that's constructive, but also kind and compassionate. I have a great editor who is also very good at giving me constructive edits and feedback, but is also very kind and compassionate in the way she does it. I have a lot of friends from different experiences in life that I am comfortable asking questions of if I need to check things and I'm also very good at research. This, so far, has worked for me, and now I have 5 books of fantasy and science fiction out.

This is also why I self-publish. The constant rejection of traditional publishing would stop me from writing all together. I still can't write non-fiction in book form and that was from just one person who didn't really think about how their criticism would effect me. I also don't do writing groups, as many writing groups use a model that would absolutely ensure I never write again. So, if you are an editor, beta reader, part of a writing group, or even an agent or publisher, know that your rejections, harsh criticisms, or tough love, doesn't improve most writers, especially neurodivergent writers. Know that a lot of writers DO want to do justice to characters from experiences that they don't have experience in. I've heard stories like mine with really mean sensitivity/beta readers, and a number of those people will never write again, or never write publicly again. Please be aware that you can kill someone's passion and talent, possibly permanently.

And writers, be careful who you ask to read your stuff, and if someone has been mean, know that it's not you or your writing. Try not to give up, or give in to the tapes in your head that tell you you're horrible. Find better people to read your stuff.

On sensitivity readers, weakness, and staying alive.

The other day I was part of a Twitter conversation begun by a fellow-author on the subject of sensitivity readers, in which he said that no serious author would use sensitivity readers, and spoke of work being “sanitized”. The conversation devolved, as it often does on Twitter, but it got me thinking. It must have got someone else thinking too, because a journalist from the Sunday Times got in touch with me the next day, and asked me to share my ideas on the subject. Because I have no control over how my words are used in the Press, or in what context they might appear, here’s more or less what I told her.

I think a lot of people (some of them authors, most of them not) misunderstand the role of a sensitivity reader. That’s probably mostly because they’ve never used one, and are misled by the word “sensitivity”, which, in a world of toxic masculinity, is often mistaken for weakness. To these people, hiring someone to check one’s work for sensitivity purposes implies a surrendering of control, a shift in the balance of power. 

In some ways, I can empathize. Most authors feel a tremendous sense of attachment to their work. Giving it to someone else for comment is often stressful. And yet we do: we hand over our manuscripts to specialists in grammar, spelling or plot construction. We allow them to comment. We take their advice. We call these people editors and copy-editors, and they are a good and necessary part of the process of being an author. Their job is to make an author’s work as accurate and well-polished as possible.

When writing non-fiction, authors sometimes use fact-checkers at the editorial stage, to make sure that no embarrassing factual mistakes make it into print. This fact-checking is a normal part of the writing process. We owe it to our readers to be as accurate as possible. No-one wants to look as if they don’t know what they’re talking about.

That’s why now, increasingly, when writing about the lives and experiences of others, we sometimes use readers with different specialities. That’s because, however great our imagination, however well-travelled we may be and however many books we have read, there will always be gaps in our knowledge of the way other people live, or feel, or experience the world. Without the input of those with first-hand knowledge, there’s always a danger we will slip up. That’s why crime writers often consult detectives when researching their detective fiction, or someone writing a hospital drama might find it useful to talk to a surgeon, or a nurse, or to someone with the medical condition they are planning to use in their narrative. That’s why someone writing about divorce, or disability, or being adopted, or being trans, or being homeless, or being a sex worker, or being of a different ethnicity, or of a different culture – might find it useful to take the advice of someone with more experience.

There are a number of ways to do this. One of my favourites is The Human Library, which allows subscribers to talk to all kinds of people and ask them questions about their lives  (Check them out at https://humanlibrary.org/). The other possibility is to hire a specialist sensitivity reader to go through your manuscript and check it. Both can be a valuable resource, and I doubt many authors would believe that their writing is sanitized, or diluted, or diminished by using these resources.

And yet, the concept of the sensitivity readers – which is basically another version of the specialist editor and fact-checker – continues to cause outrage and panic among those who see their use as political correctness gone mad, or unacceptable wokery, or bowdlerization, or censorship. The Press hasn’t helped. Outrage sells copies, and therefore it isn’t in the interest of the national media to point out the truth behind the ire.

Let’s look at the facts.

First, it isn’t obligatory to use a sensitivity reader. It’s a choice. I’ve used several, both officially and unofficially, for many different reasons, just as I’ve always tried to speak to people with experience when writing characters with disabilities, or from different cultures or ethnic groups. I know that my publisher already sends my work to readers of different ages and from different backgrounds, and I always run my writing past my son, who often has insights that I lack.  

Sensitivity reading is a specialist editorial service. It isn’t a political group, or the woke brigade, or an attempt to overthrow the status quo. It’s simply a writing resource; a means of reaching the widest possible audience by avoiding inaccuracy, clumsiness, or the kind of stereotyping that can alienate or pull the reader out of the story.

Sensitivity readers don’t go around crossing out sections of an author’s work and writing RACIST!!! in the margin. Usually, it’s more on the lines of pointing out details the author might have missed, or failed to consider: avoiding misinformation; suggesting authentic details that only a representative of a particular group would know.

Authors can always refuse advice. That’s their prerogative. If they do, however, and once their book is published, they receive criticism or ridicule because their book was insufficiently researched, or inauthentic, or was perceived as perpetuating harmful or outdated stereotypes, then they need to face and deal with the consequences. With power comes responsibility. We can’t assume one, and ignore the other,

Being more aware of the experiences of others doesn’t mean we have to stop writing problematic characters. Sensitivity reading isn’t about policing bad behaviour in books. It’s perfectly possible to write a thoroughly unpleasant character without suggesting that you’re condoning their behaviour. Sensitivity is about being more authentic, not less.

People noticed bigotry and racism in the past, too. Some people feel that books published a hundred years ago are somehow more pure, or more free, or more representative of the author’s vision than books published now. You often hear people say things like: “If Dickens were around today, he wouldn’t get published.”

But Dickens is still published. We still get to read Oliver Twist, in spite of its anti-Semitism. And those who believe that Dickens’ anti-Semitism was accepted as normal by his contemporaries probably don’t know that not only was he criticized by his peers for his depiction of Fagin, he actually went back and changed the text, removing over 200 references, after receiving criticism by a Jewish reader. And no, it wasn’t “normal” to be anti-Semitic in those days: Wilkie Collins, whose work was as popular as Dickens’ own, managed to write a range of Jewish characters without relying on harmful and inaccurate stereotypes. 

But it isn’t automatic that a book will survive its author. Books all have shelf lives, just as we do, and Dickens’ work has survived in spite of his anti-Semitism, not because of it. The work of many others has not. Books are for readers, and if an author loses touch with their readers - either by clinging to outdated tropes, or using outdated vocabulary, or having an outdated style – then their books will cease to be published, and they will be forgotten. It happens all the time. What one generation loves and admires may be rejected by the next. And the language is always changing. Nowadays, it’s hard to read some books that were popular 100 years ago. Styles have changed, sometimes too much for the reader to tolerate.

Recently, someone on tumblr asked about my use of the word “gypsy” in Chocolat, and whether I meant to have it changed in later editions. (River-gypsies is the term I use in connection with Roux and the river people, who are portrayed in a positive light, although they are often victims of prejudice.) It was an interesting question, and I gave it a lot of thought. When I wrote the book 25 years ago, the word “gypsy” was widely used by the travelling community, and as far as I knew, wasn’t considered offensive. Nowadays, there’s a tendency to regard it as a slur. That’s why I stopped using it in my later Chocolat books. No-one told me to. It was my choice. I don’t feel as if I’ve lost any of my artistic integrity by taking into account the fact that a word has a different resonance now. On the other hand, I don’t feel that at this stage I need to go back and edit the book I wrote. That’s because Chocolat is a moment in time. It uses the language of the moment. Let it stand for as long as it can. 

But I don’t have to stay in one place. I can move on. I can change. Change is how we show the world that we are still alive. That we are still able to feel, and to  learn, and to be aware of others. That’s what “sensitive” means, after all. And it is nothing like weakness. Living, changing, learning – that’s hard. Playing dead is easy.

[brenwritesss]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: You were done with Paige, but she keeps pulling you back in.

Warnings: smut

a/n: long-awaited part 3 is officially here. so sorry about that long wait

part 1 | part 2

paigebueckers started following you.

paigebueckers sent you a message.

I shouldn’t have said that.

The time of the message read 3:05 AM and even though it had been a restless few nights for you after the catastrophe at the bar, you tried your best to forget Paige’s existence and move on. But of course, Paige couldn’t help herself and she had to find any possible way to weave herself back into your life. And it started with her unblocking and messaging you to reel you back in.

You keep the message open, seeing that she’s active but close out of it when you decide that she’s not worth trying to get back. Out of sight out of mind right?

So you left her on read, a closing to that part of your life that you wanted to so desperately crawl back to but you couldn’t do that to yourself. Again. 

And that was how it started. These little things that Paige would do to reel you in and you wondered how she felt when she realized it wasn’t working. First it was the Instagram message, then it was hanging out with you and Azzi; although that didn’t last long when you would just leave, leaving Paige to deal with Azzi’s questions. Then she started “coincidentally” walking past your communications class when you would be leaving. Then it was liking your Instagram posts. 

She was trying to get to you and you weren’t going to let that happen again, no matter how hard she tried. 

Kathrine huffed as she sat up in your bed, watching you at your desk. “Are you seriously still mad at me?”

You don’t say anything and continue studying.

“Y/n, it’s Paige Bueckers. Who wouldn’t make out with her? I know you would.” The tone in her voice was condescending almost, as if you were some idiot she was lecturing.

You turn to her, looking her dead in the eyes. “You want to go make out with Paige, then go make out with her and shut the door on your way out.”

Kathrine’s eyes widen at you, earning you a scoff from her. She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Why the hell are you so bothered by it anyway? We’re not fucking dating so I can make out with whoever I want.”

You close your eyes, trying to fight the anger rising in your chest. “It’s not about you.” You say it so quietly, she can barely hear you.

“Speak up.”

“I said it’s not fucking about you,” you shout, louder than you had intended too.

“Then what is it?” Kathrine’s voice echoed throughout your room.

You slam your pen down on your desk, standing up from your seat and rubbing your hands on your face. Kathrine jumps at the sudden outburst, not knowing what you would do next. You had many options: kick her out, scream, tell her that Paige was your ex, pull her into your own heated make out session. But even now in your own dorm, Paige haunted your mind. So much to the point that you couldn’t even think of a good enough response to make up for the fact that you were letting this get to you this easily.

You take a deep breath, letting your hands fall from your face as you sit down on the bed beside her. “Sorry, I don’t know why I freaked out. It’s probably just midterms.”

Kathrine, weirded out and probably uncomfortable, shuffles away from you and grabs her stuff. “Yeah well you need to figure your shit out.”

You roll your eyes. “What do you mean?”

Kathrine stands up from the bed, moving towards your door. “I signed up for good fucking sex and the occasional cuddles in bed. Not,” she pauses, signaling to the space around you. “Whatever you have going on or whatever this is.”

You let out a laugh. “Believe me, I’m still looking for that good fucking sex.”

Kathrine’s eyes are practically bulging out of her head at this point. “Paige probably fucks better than you anyway.”

“Yeah good luck with that.” You stand up and open the door for her, waiting for her to walk out.

“Good luck?” She asks, not believing the scene before her.

“You’re not her type.”

Paigebueckers liked your post.

“Damnit,” you curse as the notification causes you to accidentally drop your glass cup in the sink. “Fuck.” You stare at the broken shards of glass in your sink. Even through Instagram she could still get to you and that was scary. How could a high school relationship fuck you up this bad? You didn’t think it would until you saw her the first time since. 

Paige never did anything specific to cause you to break up with her. In fact, throughout the entire relationship she was perfect and that made it a million times worse when you had to break up with her. You had been told by everyone that a high school relationship wouldn’t last in college and maybe breaking up with her was the right decision. Or maybe it wasn’t and this was you suffering the consequences.

“What the fuck happened?” Azzi asks, walking into your dorm which causes you to jump.

“God, Azzi what the fuck?” You place your hand on your chest, trying to catch your breath and she laughs as she walks over to peer over the sink.

She points to the glass. “You should really clean this up.”

You roll your eyes at her and give her shoulder a quick shove. “What are you doing here?”

Azzi holds up a paper bag with the Chick-Fil-A logo on it and you immediately broke into a smile which Azzi returns. “Figured you could use a pick-me-up.”

“You’re the best.”

Azzi sets the bag down on your bed and sits down, wrapping herself in your covers and taking a bite out of a waffle fry. “Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

“Shut up,” you mutter as you get in bed beside her. Azzi is already holding the fries towards you which you gladly take while you grab some buffalo sauce. Moments like these with Azzi were some you treasured deeply, not wanting to lose these little times that you could see her and be yourself around her. And all of that reminded you why you needed to stay away from Paige in the first place.

“She’s sorry y’know,” Azzi says quietly with her mouth stuffed with chicken nuggets.

Those words alone cause you to stop chewing and turn your head towards her. “What?”

“She told me about what happened at the bar and even though I don’t want whatever happened between you happening again, she is sorry for saying what she said.”

You looked into Azzi’s eyes which were sincere and that made you feel bad. Not because you felt bad for Paige but because you were unintentionally dragging Azzi into this whole mess which you were trying to forget.

“It’s whatever, I don’t care,” you say back, shrugging. “She’s entitled to her own opinion.”

“You’re not a bitch, Y/n.”

You turn away from her because deep down you knew Paige was right. You may not have been a bitch to everyone but you definitely had your moments. Especially with Paige and that made you feel even worse than you already did. Wrapping your comforter tighter around your body, you let yourself sink into your mattress. “Maybe not to you.”

Azzi moved closer to you, moving the food and wrapping her arm around you. “What Paige said was just her being angry for no fucking reason that didn’t have anything to do with you. Her words don’t make up the type of person you are which are none of the things she mentioned.”

“I’m just over her bullshit.”

You show up to class a week later, books in hand as you slide into your seat and placing them neatly on your desk. Fishing a pen out of your backpack, you sigh as you prepare yourself for another boring lecture. Your professor begins the class with the usual procedure: attendance, short quiz, and then note-taking. All of which you do complete easily as someone comes to sit in the open seat beside you. You pay no attention to it, too focused on writing down your notes when they speak, “is this seat taken?”

“No, it’s–” you turn your head to see Paige staring right at you. “Not.”

“Great,” she smiles as she puts her backpack down. “So, what are we learning today?”

“Listen and find out for your fucking self,” you whisper as you go back to taking notes, not before moving your chair farther away from her.

Paige, who is looking at you like you were the craziest person on the planet, slides her hand over to your notebook, bringing towards her and giving it a look. “You always had pretty handwriting.”

You look at her dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious.”

Paige smirks at you. “Very serious.”

You pull your notebook back to you. “I thought I was too much of a bitch to be around.”

Paige’s shoulders fall, her playful expression falling with it. She leans towards you, “I said I was sorry about that. I didn’t mean it.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you mean. If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t say it.” You go back to taking your notes. “And besides, we got a promise to keep for Azzi. So let’s honor that please.”

“Right because now you suddenly care about that promise.” You hated how hot her voice was. How hot she was just sitting there right next to you. How close she was just like that night at the bar.

You scoff, “you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“No,” she rebutted. “I said I didn’t want you meddling in on my love life. Why can’t we be friends?”

Her sudden change in demeanor from when she was screaming at you outside of the bar compared to now made you turn your head enough to where you could almost get whiplash. “You should have said that maybe like two or three weeks ago. Or I don’t know,” you pause, pretending to think. “Maybe a damn month ago.”

“But I want to now, ma.” The use of the pet name made you freeze on the spot, dropping your pen and by the way you felt, you just knew that your cheeks were red as fuck. And by the look on her own face, you knew she was enjoying your reaction. “Just like old times.”

“Go suck up to one of the bitches you fuck,” you spit out, putting your books away and getting up from your chair without another word. 

“Y/n–” Paige began but you couldn’t hear the end of her sentence because you were already out the door. Not only did you have a promise to keep to Azzi but also a promise to keep to yourself: don’t let Paige into your life again.

You don’t know exactly how you ended up here yet there you were, standing in the crowded kitchen of a frat house trying to fish through the cooler to look for a drink. Another party you let Azzi drag you to and each time she did, you regretted it deeply. While frat parties were the final boss of college partying, the one thing you hated the most about these parties were the awful tastes in music these guys had with TikTok music just circulating throughout the speakers. It also didn’t help that you were wearing a tight and short black dress that made every guy at this party look your way. And that made you feel disgusted.

And with your luck, Azzi left you to go find some girls from the team, leaving you in the kitchen to fend for yourself. You find a can of Coke in the cooler which looked like the best decision compared to the other drinks that were available. You lean back up, opening your can and taking a sip, letting the carbonation hit the back of your throat.

“Enjoying the party?” Kathrine whispers behind you, pressing her body against your back. Your breath hitches and your fingers curl the can in your grasp. Kathrine can sense you being on edge so she slowly glides her hand up your waist, trying to elicit some sort of response that was something other than being guarded.

“Not my scene,” you say quietly, trying to let yourself relax in her grasp.

“We can always change that,” she pauses, spinning you around so that you’re now facing her and her fingers are tangled in the black fabric of your dress. “I always liked you in black.”

You look into her eyes, “I thought you preferred nothing at all.”

Kathrine’s eyes lowered themselves onto you as she spoke, “I thought that was a given.”

Trying to get your mind off of Paige was something you were used to and even though you were never actually into Kathrine, she provided a good distraction. Maybe it was the party getting to you but there was something about getting with the same girl that you found Paige making out with weeks ago made it seem almost fun.

You instinctively grab Kathrine’s hand as you drag her to a wall just a few feet away, pushing her up against it. She immediately responds to you, grabbing at your face as she brings your lips together. It was heated and fierce, both of you trying to fight for dominance as Kathrine wasted no time in shoving her tongue down your throat. The two of you could both tell that this wasn’t anything more than all of your meaningless hookups had been. Meaningless. That night in the locker room with Paige was never supposed to be meaningless.

And fuck, now you were thinking about her when you’re making out with someone else.

Kathrine spins around, catching you against the wall as your hands become tangled in her mess of blonde hair. Her skin was warm compared to your cool fingertips and her lips were soft like they always had been. 

Kathrine’s mouth wanders down your jaw, causing you to let out a short gasp that only the two of you can hear through all of the loud music. Her mouth wandered down farther to the crook of your neck and you braced your hands against her shoulders trying to steady yourself as she sucked and nipped at your neck.

You open your eyes for the first time, watching Kathrine’s head bob down as she continued to kiss along your collarbone and damn did that make you horny. It became worse when you look across the room and notice those familiar blue eyes staring you down. And that stare created a pool between your legs. 

Paige had been watching you and Kathrine the whole time with a bottle of beer in her hand. The way she looked at you was a mix of a glare and disbelief as if you had just seen straight through her. For the first time in a while, she looked hurt and you were the reason why. You let your hands drop from Kathrine and you pull her head up from your neck which causes her to look at you with confusion.

“Is something wrong?” she asks you with swollen lips and partly out of breath.

You look away from Paige and towards Kathrine, giving her a slight head shake. “No, nothing’s wrong.”

Before you can say anything else, Paige is walking towards the two of you, the bottle that had been in her hand was now on an empty table as she approached you, eyes filled with fire. You didn’t know what she would do but the second that Kathrine’s lips were reattached to your neck, Paige pulls you out of her grasp.

“What the fuck?” Kathrine asks, not realizing that Paige was standing in front of her.

“Hands off,” Paige says, not a break in her tone. Not a stutter at all.

You move your arm out of her grip. “I’m not a damn animal, Paige, I can speak for myself.”

Paige looks at you, making an attempt to grab your arm again. “I don’t give a fuck, Y/n. I’m done watching you and not doing jack shit about it.”

She drags you out of the house, pulling you into the backyard. And as much as you fight her, her strength wins as she holds you in front of her before letting go and shutting the glass door. You couldn’t believe the scene that had just played out and every part of you wanted nothing more than to scream at her. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Paige’s voice broke through with an urgent tone. “My problem? You’re the one who won’t let me apologize for what I said.”

You grab at your hair before snapping at her, “Why do you care? Tell me why because this whole thing is so confusing that it’s driving me insane.”

“What’s so confusing about it?” Paige acts clueless yet you know better than to believe that.

You raise your voice to match hers. “You kiss me in the locker room then you pretend that I don’t exist, saying that you’re doing it because of Azzi when we both know that’s bullshit because if you cared about Azzi in this situation you would have never dated me in the first place!”

Paige took a step towards you, tilting her head. “I was seventeen! What the fuck did I know? And you’re acting like you’re a fucking saint when you know damn well this was equally your fault as it was mine.”

“You tell me to stop coming back into your life and when I finally listen, you decide that’s not good enough and you try anything to weave your way into mine,” you say as you spit your words and you feel the sudden sting in your eyes. “Are you so conceded that you can’t handle that I’m moving on from you? That I want to live a life without you?”

“We both know you don’t want that,” she snaps. “I don’t want that.”

Those four words make you pause as you bite your lip, flipping your hair in distress. “What?”

Paige takes a deep breath, calming down from her outburst. “I thought ignoring you was going to fix this and finally make me get over you. But you’re not fucking easy to get over and seeing you with that girl or anyone else makes me want to go over there and show everyone why I wanted you in the first place.”

You couldn’t believe the words you were hearing. If anything, you were just confused because one second, she’s calling you a bitch and the next, she’s telling you she still has feelings for you. You take a slow step back from her, putting your hands behind your back. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

“Do what?”

You huffed because you knew that once you opened your mouth, there was no going back and everything that has happened could either be done for good or a new step forward. You didn’t let your eyes wander from her and you took a step back again, creating a bigger gap between the two of you. “Pulling me in, pushing me away and then doing that shit all fucking over again. It’s too much.”

Paige tried to take a step forward, reaching her hand out to you but all you could do was take another step back. Anything to show her that you were done. When you rejected her movement, she sighed and glanced at the ground before looking back up to you. “I didn’t think–”

“That’s right,” you say, cutting her off. “You don’t.”

Paige’s frown turned into a line when she shook her head at you. “If that’s how you feel then fine.” And she leaves you there in the backyard as she walks back inside the house. You didn’t know whether to be upset or happy at the fact that maybe she’d finally understand how you felt. You hoped she at least had the maturity to do that. At first, you didn’t know if you should walk back inside but after a few minutes, you decide to and shut the glass door behind you.

Everyone were still in their places dancing and drinking with the occasional grinding against one another which made you feel sick for some reason. You looked around the house for Kathrine but she was nowhere to be found so you had just assumed she left. Deciding to check one last bedroom, you open the door and drop your drink on the ground as you walk in on two girls, one straddling the other on the bed. They both had their shirts off and were clearly in the middle of an intense makeout.

Feeling completely embarrassed, you apologize, “Sorry, sorry my bad…” You trail off when some brunette gives you a disgusted look as she shifts in Paige’s lap. At first, Paige looked at you with anger but watching you drop your cup made her feel guilty and it was clear that you could tell.

You don’t say anything else as you shut the door and leave Paige in the room with that girl. You walk down the stairs and decide to leave the house. And as you expected, Paige never followed you.

You walked into the elevator in your building, pressing the button to the fourth floor as you continued to try to erase Paige from your mind. She shouldn’t have this much of a hold on you but she did and there wasn’t anything that you could do about it at this point. You leaned against the wall of the elevator as the doors shut and it begins to move up. You haven’t spoken to anyone including Azzi for several days since you had walked in on Paige and that random girl. And yes, it wasn’t fair to Azzi but everything and everyone reminded you of Paige. And you needed a break.

That break was going to have to wait a little bit longer because when the elevator stopped on the second floor and opened, Paige walked in, freezing in her spot when she looks up and makes eye contact with you. You look up from your phone and mimic the same expression before going back on your phone. Paige hit the button to close the elevator door and decided to stand beside you, resulting in you taking a step farther away from you.

“Can we talk?” Paige asks from beside you and all you could do was turn away and not even glance in her direction. Paige huffs at your response, turning her body towards you. “Really? Are you going to act like a child right now?”

You give her no response which fuels her even more. You hear her step towards the elevator door and out of nowhere, the elevator stops in its place. You turn towards her and look at her hand that has just pulled the red button. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Paige smirks. “So it takes me stopping a damn elevator for you to say a word to me?” She grabs your arm to which you tear away from her.

“You’re fucking crazy, Paige,” you yell out, trying to get yourself as far away from her as possible. Your chest tightened and your breathing hitched, making your face go red. Was now a good time to mention that you are claustrophobic?

“You clearly have me going fucking craz–” Paige responds but notices the way your breaths get caught in your throat. She takes a step towards you, concern clearly written across her face. “Hey, hey are you okay?”

Your back hits the elevator wall and you slide down until you’re sitting on the cold floor. You pull your legs out in front of you and hide your face in your knees, trying to gain control over your breathing.

Paige kneels down beside you, placing a warm hand on your knee which causes you to jolt in your place. “Fuck–I forgot you’re claustrophobic. I’m so sorry.”

Paige gets up and tries pressing other buttons to get the elevator moving but it’s no use because the two of you are still stuck. When it’s clear that her actions aren’t working, she comes back to your side and pulls you into her arms, wrapping her hands around you and pulling your head into her chest. “Relax princess, nothing is going to happen to you. I’m right here.”

Against your better judgement, your hands snake up to wrap around Paige’s neck as your breathing steadies. Even though Paige was the cause of your anger, she always knew how to calm you down. Paige’s grip on you gets tighter as she rubs small circles on your arm. Her touch alone was enough to fully ground you and gain control of your breathing, which Paige could tell instantly. “Talk to me mama.”

The old pet name surprised you and you couldn’t deny the way your heartbeat slowly increased again. You lifted your head up to look at her. “I’m okay I think.”

Paige gave you a soft smile, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You scared me there for a second, L/n. I can’t have you scaring me like that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have stopped the elevator then.”

Paige’s eyes became half–lidded as she took the sight of you in her arms in. Her hand that was on your shoulder dipped to your lower back to which you could instantly tell that the mood between the two of you had shifted. You cleared your throat. “We should call for help or something.”

Paige couldn’t take her eyes off of your lips as you talked, which only turned you on more. “Or we just wait.”

“That could take forever.”

“I’m good with forever.” Her eyes couldn’t leave your mouth and yours couldn’t leave hers. This was a very bad idea but fuck it, you knew you needed her. Now.

Before thinking about it again, you pull her face towards yours and kiss her like it was your last day on Earth. Paige let out a small gasp as she held your waist to gain some sort of stability, moving her lips against yours without any shame whatsoever. Paige’s hold on your hips grows tighter as she pulls you effortlessly onto her lap. Your hands move from the sides of her face down to her neck, which you rub circles on with your thumbs. The kiss between the two of you was intoxicating and even though your mind was foggy, all you wanted was more. 

Paige lets one of her hands on your lower back drift farther down until it dips underneath the belt of your pants and caresses your ass. You gasp at the sudden move which gives Paige all she needs as she uses that opportunity to slide her tongue in your mouth. It causes you to moan and that makes Paige smile against your lips. Paige pulls away slowly, making you whimper at the sudden loss of her lips. “Look who’s desperate for me.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”

She pulls at the bottom of your shirt, looking at you with raised eyebrows and a small smirk. “Can I take this off?”

You didn’t think twice before nodding as she pulled the fabric over your head with ease. She admired the sight before her of you in your bra that happened to be in her favorite color. Paige lets her fingers glide along your chest, outlining the shape. “You’re so fucking hot, princess.”

You tilt your head down at her. “Do you want to keep touching or do you want to actually fuck me before someone comes to fix the elevator?”

“Yes ma’am,” she whispers, taking off her own shirt and undoing your belt. You immediately go back to kissing her like you had just been and damn did it feel like the most amazing thing on the planet. All those times you would kiss other people, especially Kathrine, it never felt like this. Like they belonged with you. To you. You grip her bare shoulders which are warm and sculpted like a fucking Greek God and that only makes your pussy throb more than it was. She pulls your hips up in order to pull your pants off and you help her, tossing them to the side onto the cold floor and going back in to kiss her. She sinks you back down onto her lap and you could immediately feel yourself pooling on her sweatpants. And she could feel it too because she pulls away and laughs. “It really doesn’t take much, does it?”

You slap her shoulder. “Fuck you.”

“Is that not what you’re doing?” She asks with the slyest smile you have ever seen. When you don’t respond, she begins moving your hips against her, creating long, colored streaks on her gray sweatpants. The movements cause you to let out a moan, which causes Paige to bite her lip. “Just like that.”

Her reaction ignites a fire in you to move faster, attaching your lips to the crook of her neck and the second you do, you could almost feel her eyes rolling to the back of her head. You smile against her neck as you leave a big mark on her neck that would no doubt, soon turn into a huge hickey. Paige’s hands were everywhere on you. On your neck, your tits, your waist, your back, your thighs, your ass and the electrifying shock of her touch sent butterflies through your entire body, making you crave more.

Paige grabs a hold of your hips, slightly turning your body which causes your lips to leave her neck. You whine at the sudden loss of contact but Paige kisses you before she turns your entire body so that your back is now laying against her chest. Your legs are sprawled out but you squeeze them together to try to stop your core from dripping even more onto Paige’s lap. 

“Stop that,” Paige whispers in your ear as she forces your legs apart with her own, locking them in place so that you can’t move them back together. She wraps an arm around your stomach to keep you from squirming on her and you knew what was going to happen in exactly a few seconds. Her fingers trail down your body until they’re circling your clit slowly. You whine out, “Paige please.”

“You want more, huh?” Paige is almost mocking you at this point and you’re eating it the fuck up. She circles over your clit once, stopping and applying pressure, and then stopping once more. You’re already on edge and these small movements make your pussy throb. It’s like Paige can feel it because she begins dragging her fingers down to your entrance, teasing you before she brings them back up to your clit. 

“Paige please stop teasing me,” you breathe out, shutting your eyes every time her fingers run over your sensitive clit.

Paige uses her other hand to lightly brush your hair out of your face. You could tell by the tone of her voice and the smirk on her face that she was enjoying this a little too much. “Just tell me what you want mama.”

You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to give Paige exactly what she wants. “Please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, ma,” she says quickly and doesn’t give you any more time to prepare as she sinks two fingers deep inside you. You gasp and lean your head back on Paige’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” you mutter as she keeps her movements controlled and slow. You take a hold of her arm to provide you some sort of stability, gripping it so hard that your fingertips turn white.

“You like this shit, huh?” Paige looks down at you and the image before her was so beautiful, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you. You nod as you let out a moan, Paige’s fingers thrusting even deeper. You were practically seeing stars at the moment and never in your life did you ever think you would be fucking Paige Bueckers in an elevator. 

“Faster.” You don’t even remember those words leaving your body as Paige speeds up her movements and begins to curl her fingers inside of you which causes you to scream out, “oh fuck.”

Paige starts going as fast as she can, using the strength in her other arm to hold your body up. You can feel the knot in your stomach beginning to unravel and that causes you to push your body more against Paige.

She can feel that you’re close so she whispers, “doing so good, baby. Keep going.”

That’s all it takes when you grab her hand that’s currently deep inside you and and push her hand as far as it will go as she curls her fingers again. Paige lets out a small laugh at your movement as you cum all over her fingers. Your eyes roll back as you do nothing but moan and slump against Paige. She helps you ride out your orgasm and when your breathing starts to slow down, she pulls her fingers out of you and looks in awe at how covered in cum they are. You watch as she licks her fingers clean. “You taste good, baby.”

You are about to respond when the elevator suddenly starts to move and that’s when everything hit you. Paige had just fucked you which meant that you let in all of the old feelings for her. That you accepted everything that had happened between the two of you for years when you were just starting to accept that she didn’t want to be part of your life anymore.

You get up as quickly as you can and try to forget what just happened as you put your clothes back on as fast as possible.

“Y/n–” Paige says as she gets up from the floor, her sweats still covered in your cum.

You finish putting your shirt on as you turn around to her. “This should never have happened. This–this can’t happen again.”

“What?” Paige looked confused and mostly hurt at the sudden change in your tone. “What just happened changes things.”

You were a mess. More of a mess than you were twenty minutes ago. You go over to the elevator door and press any button you can to open the door. “What just happened was a mistake.”

Paige walks over to you, gently grabbing you by the arm so that you’ll look at her. “A mistake?”

“You can’t just pretend I don’t exist and the second that I’m finally moving on, pull me back in and pretend that this,” you say as you motion to the space between the two of you. “Will ever be something more than just fucking or playing with each other’s emotions.”

The door opens before Paige can respond and you take the first opportunity to run out of the elevator and to your dorm. And like you had expected again, she never followed you.

A few hours later had resulted in you not knowing what to do and needing something to take away all of the sudden emotions and feelings that Paige made you feel in that elevator. So that’s how you find yourself here, in your bed with Kathrine’s body on top of you. That was the thing about her. She wasn’t Paige. She never made you feel as good as Paige did but that meant she never made you feel as bad as Paige did too. And that’s what you needed right now; to not feel worse or confused. Because with Kathrine, there was no confusion in where you stood with her. So while you moaned Kathrine’s name and let her hands touch every inch of you as if she owned you, you felt safe.

Little did you know that Paige was standing outside of your door, hearing every cry and moan with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in her hands.

[mechncheese]

You have draw Bluestreak a total of two (2) times which for me is enough to ask: Do you have any hcs for him? Is he going to be in your au?

Funnily enough, Bluestreak is one of my more niche favs but mostly because of the HCs I've made up for him in my head BAHAHA What can I say? I love background characters and expanding upon them !

He's around in my AU as well ! This ask has been sitting in my inbox for a while and I wanted to get out my list of Autobots sorted before I answered it, so sorray !

As for what he's like in the AU I kept his Yapper Personality, him being a talker to cope with the pain of it all </3 He's a little tragic to me

I won't get too into it but here are some other HCs from my AU

Ik this is a common one and one that might be mildly annoying but he gets mistaken for Prowl sometimes and he has debated on changing some of his frame to differentiate himself more but ultimately decided against it.

He's so homesick, he misses everything all of the time and the only thing he can do is talk to distract himself from the fact that if he lets his mind wander too much he will get sad </3 he has a fear of being left alone.

Bluestreak does this thing where he smiles or laughs out of a nervous habit during inappropriate times and sometimes it unnerves others because how could you be laughing during a time like this but he can't help it.

Bluestreak doesn't take himself seriously and often brushes off his problems with humor. First Aid tells him that maybe he should consider coming to him for therapy.

This has nothing to do with my HCs but anon I hope you know I am in the top 0.1% of Bluestreak fans and my goal is to spread my love for niche characters

[writesvani]

Dear Me | 04

lawyer! jungkook x privatechef! reader

SUMMARY: Once upon a time, Jungkook and you were everything. Best friends who shared every moment, every secret—except one: you were in love with him. But life changed. High school ended, real life began, and slowly, you drifted apart, the distance between you growing too wide to cross.

The end. Except it isn't.

One day, after a long day at work, you open your email to find a message from 13 years ago—written by your younger self. A letter you’d forgotten, sent by a service you paid to remind you of your youth, your love for him. As the emails keep on coming and you keep reading, the flood of memories hits you, and you realize something heartbreaking: you never stopped loving him.

But now, it’s too late. Jungkook is about to marry someone else. Or is he?

estranged childhood best friends-to-friends-to-lovers?

TRIGGER WARNINGS (for this chapter): anxiety, guilt, discomfort, emotional distress, self-sabotage, past trauma, relationship tension, self-doubt, jealousy, awkwardness, manipulation, abandonment, social anxiety

comment HERE for Dear Me taglist;

SERIES M.LIST;

— previous chapter // next chapter (pending...)

wc: 6,4k // date: 28th of March 2025

CHAPTER FOUR — The House; happy reading my gummies...

AN: hey hey hey!!! okay, so, like, i am OBSESSED with this chapter. like, truly. i love it SO MUCH and i really hope you all love it too because i’m freaking out over here!!

now, listen up, i’m setting a NOTE GOAL for this chapter—250 notes because YOU GUYS LITERALLY SMASHED THE LAST ONE IN 2 DAYS and that’s just like... UNREAL! i'm over here losing my mind. i can’t even. you guys are LEGENDS. so, yeah, let’s hit that 250 and guess what? I’LL BE POSTING CHAPTER 5 ASAP once we get there. i HAVE to make the note goal higher because if i keep it at 200—i'll literally post everyday and i DO NOT have the strength to do that. i am sorry (not sorry at all).

—love, vani

To be quite honest, you’d rather switch places with Sisyphus right now.

Yeah, you’d probably be drenched in sweat, rolling that massive boulder up a hill over and over again, failing endlessly, panting like a feral raccoon on the verge of collapse.

And yet? You’d take it. Gladly.

You’d throw yourself into the depths of the underworld’s worst punishments if it meant being anywhere else but here. If it meant doing anything else but sitting through this.

If it meant not having to hear, for the hundredth time, just how great Jungkook’s proposal to Nina was. How wholesome and romantic and perfect it had been. How your childhood best friend—the one you once knew like the back of your hand—is, apparently, the most lovable, charming, sweet, and overall best boyfriend-turned-fiancé in existence.

You grit your teeth as Nina’s voice pulls you back to the present, each of her words like a tiny, invisible shock to your system. Her joy is undeniable, written all over her face in bright, delicate excitement. Her hands move animatedly through the air, cutting through the thick atmosphere of the coffee shop, mimicking the way Jungkook had taken her hand in his, the way he had slipped that ring onto her finger.

And you?

You just sit there, nodding along, pretending that every detail doesn’t feel like a stone being added to the weight already crushing your chest.

Yoongi is nodding along, gasping at all the right moments—but you see through him. His fingers tap lightly against his cup, and his lips twitch, like he’s suppressing a grimace every time Nina gets a little too animated. He loves her, adores her even, but Yoongi—despite being a massive book nerd with an unspoken love for romance in fiction—is allergic to real-life romance talk.

So the fact that he’s enduring this? Says a lot.

You, on the other hand, sit stiffly, your fingers curled around the handle of your cup, the ceramic warm against your skin. You don’t tense. You don’t flinch. You just… exist in the moment, pretending this conversation isn’t making you want to pour your espresso straight into your eyes. Your smiles are perfectly timed, your little laughs polite—just enough to make it seem like you’re engaged. But inside, every word feels like an iron weight pressing on your chest.

“And I swear, I was shocked,” Nina exclaims, eyes wide, hands flying through the air as if she’s physically reliving the moment.

Yoongi leans back slightly, expression unreadable. “No way you didn’t see it coming at all.”

Nina scoffs, placing a hand over her heart as if personally offended. “I didn’t! Look!”

Before anyone can react, she shoves her phone into Yoongi’s face so fast he physically jerks back, blinking like she just hit him with a flashlight. You don’t even need to look at the screen to know what it is.

“My friends and YOU, my sweet brother, knew and didn’t even tell me to get my nails done,” she groans dramatically, shaking her head.

Across the table, Jungkook, who’s been suspiciously quiet during this entire reenactment of his own damn proposal, finally speaks.

“They didn’t wanna ruin the surprise for you, baby.”

His voice is soft, steady, but there’s something in the way his hand lightly rubs Nina’s back that makes your stomach churn.

You tilt your head, forcing out a light laugh. “Wow. Talk about friendly sabotage.”

It’s an attempt at humor—something, anything—but your fingers twitch against your cup, and when Jungkook glances at you, just for a second, his expression unreadable, you feel it.

The weight of it.

Of everything.

Jungkook looks away first.

The moment is fleeting—just a quick glance, a second of hesitation—but it lingers in the air like a truth neither of you dares to acknowledge. The weight of years apart, of missed conversations and things left unsaid, sits between you, thick and unmovable.

And then, Nina speaks again, blissfully unaware of the silent war happening right in front of her.

“But they could’ve at least hinted at it,” she whines, but her eyes shine, a soft glow of happiness radiating from her features. “Like, I dunno—‘Oh, your nails are getting long, maybe book an appointment?’” She sighs, shaking her head. “Now my engagement pics are lowkey ugly.”

You let out a small, amused scoff. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad. Let me see.”

She doesn’t hesitate to show you her phone, flipping the screen toward you. You lean in slightly, eyes scanning the image. And yeah, okay—you get it. Her nails are a bit grown out, the perfect white tips slightly out of place, but it’s nothing dramatic. Still, if it were your hands in that picture, with a ring that big and nails that unpolished, you’d probably throw a tiny fit too.

You tilt your head, offering her a sympathetic smile. “Ouch. You kinda do have a point, girl.”

“Right?” Nina huffs, crossing her arms, but there’s laughter laced in her voice now.

Your gaze flickers to her hand, fingers curled around her coffee cup, the diamond on her finger catching the light just right. “At least your nails are on point now,” you remark, nodding toward them.

She grins, wiggling her fingers in front of you. “Duh. No way I was letting that happen again.”

Yoongi snorts. “I swear, you’re the only person who could turn a proposal into a nail horror story.”

“Hey! It’s a valid concern,” Nina shoots back, tossing a sugar packet at him. “A girl’s gotta have her priorities straight.”

Jungkook chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “Babe, you literally cried when I got down on one knee. You didn’t even notice your nails until, like, an hour later.”

“Yeah, because I was overwhelmed!” She points an accusing finger at him before turning to you. “Do you know how rude it is to just casually propose out of nowhere? No warning, no heads-up—just ‘boom, life-changing moment, now deal with it.��”

You press your lips together, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Damn, how dare he propose to you without a PowerPoint presentation and a six-week prep course?”

“Thank you!” Nina exclaims, dramatically placing a hand over her chest. “Finally, someone who understands my suffering.”

Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “Next time, I’ll send out a calendar invite first.”

“Yeah, maybe you could even send it to us too—so we can all prepare for the big day.”

The words leave your lips before you can stop them. Sharp-edged, bitter. You’re an adult. You know better than to let something so petty slip out. It’s not like you. It’s childish. Spiteful. But restraint is impossible when the truth is gnawing at you from the inside out—when the person who once felt like an extension of yourself didn’t even tell you he was getting married.

Didn’t give you the chance to be there. To help pick the perfect ring. To witness his excitement, his nerves, the way he used to come to you with every major life decision. You were robbed. Of a moment. Of a friendship. Of him.

Nina, oblivious, just laughs at your remark, too caught up in the glow of her engagement to notice the venom laced in your voice. She keeps swiping through her phone, showing video after video of the proposal—footage taken by the friends who did know, who were there, because Jungkook, ever the romantic, wanted to pop the question in front of the people she loved.

Yoongi wasn’t there. He had been overseas for a project. That’s the only reason. But it’s funny, isn’t it? How he never even mentioned the proposal to you until the invites were sent out. How that makes you question so many things.

Funnier still is the way he reacts.

Jungkook blinks. Slowly. His expression barely shifts, but you see it. The subtle tightening of his jaw, the way his tongue darts out to press against his cheek. His brows furrow, just slightly, like your words bother him. Like they’re an itch he can’t quite scratch.

And Yoongi—he catches it too. His shoulders flinch, his breath stutters for just a fraction of a second, but his gaze never leaves Nina’s phone. Like he’s pretending he didn’t hear. Like he doesn’t want to hear.

“Mhm.” Jungkook hums, tapping his fingers against his cup. “Didn’t wanna tell too many people. Didn’t want it getting out too soon.” His lips pull into a smirk, eyes meeting yours with a flicker of something unreadable. Something close to a challenge. “You know how it is—I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise.”

You force a nod, shifting in your seat. “Yeah,” you say, voice a little too smooth, a little too controlled. “Good thing you only told the people you trust.”

His smirk falters—just for a second. It’s quick, almost imperceptible, but you catch it. He tilts his head slightly, like he’s choosing his next words carefully.

“Well, you know me,” he finally says, leaning back with a casual shrug. “Always thinking ahead.”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Genius.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, but there’s something tight in the way his jaw moves, something lingering in the air between you that neither of you dares to name.

“Sooo,” Nina drawls, turning to you with a sly look, her eyebrow raised like she’s putting you on trial. “What’s going on with that boyfriend of yours?”

You blink at her, momentarily lost. “Which boyfriend?”

She scoffs. “Come on, you know—the guy you were talking about last time I saw you.”

You tilt your head, giving her a flat look. “Nina, that was two years ago.”

“So what?” She shrugs, taking a sip of her drink like that’s not a ridiculous amount of time to be out of the loop.

You exhale sharply, pressing your lips together. “We broke up over a year ago.”

Her brows furrow. “Why?”

You pause, fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your cup. “Ehh… We just—drifted apart, I guess. Fell out of love.”

Nina hums, eyes flickering over you like she’s assessing if that’s the whole truth. You hold her gaze, daring her to dig deeper. She doesn’t—but the air still feels a little heavier.

You don’t notice the way Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around his coffee cup, how his grip falters just enough for the ceramic to shift in his hands. You don’t catch the subtle squint of his eyes when you mutter “drifted apart.”

But Yoongi does.

His gaze flickers to Jungkook, studying him like he’s reading between the lines of an unfinished story. Their eyes meet for the briefest second—silent, heavy. Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, clears his throat, like the moment never happened. Like Yoongi hadn’t just told him something without saying a single word.

But the message is loud and clear.

Dude, you’re an asshole.

But Jungkook—he doesn’t feel like an asshole. He doesn’t feel like he did something wrong.

Because he was the one who tried.

He was the one sending Facebook messages every damn day that summer while you were in Europe, just so you could reply—maybe three times a week, at best—because you were just so busy.

He was the one staying up all night, his textbooks blurred at the edges from exhaustion, only to set his alarm too early just so he could call you before your day started.

He was the one skipping lectures, missing out on life around him, just to sit in his tiny dorm room and listen to you talk—because that’s how much he wanted to hold onto you.

And when he finally stopped—when he silenced his alarm, when he went to class, when he decided to just wait and see if you’d reach out first—there was nothing.

No new calls.

No desperate messages.

Just silence.

And that silence? It was deafening. It was humiliating. It rang louder than any ‘I don’t love you anymore’ ever could.

So, no. Jungkook doesn’t feel like an asshole. He just feels like someone who learned the hard way that loving someone more than they love you is its own kind of heartbreak. He’s the one who learned when to stop trying.

When to stop holding onto the ties already cut.

“So, what are you guys up to tonight?” Nina asks, her gaze flicking between you and Yoongi as she swirls the last of her coffee in her cup. There’s a glint in her eye—curious, maybe even a little mischievous.

Yoongi leans back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “Nothing much. Gotta finish a chapter I’m reviewing for that author I told you about,” he says, voice casual, though you can tell he’s already dreading it.

You glance at him before taking a slow sip of your coffee, the bitterness settling on your tongue. “Same. Just… getting mentally prepared for work tomorrow.”

Technically, it’s not a lie. You do have work tomorrow. But beneath the surface, there’s a flicker of something else, something you try to ignore—a spark of unease picking at your subconscious.

Because it’s Wednesday.

And that means an email is coming.

An email you don’t want to read. An email you’ll tell yourself to ignore. An email you know you’ll end up opening anyway, your fingers hovering over words that feel like ghosts of your past self, haunting you in black and white.

Yoongi, oblivious to the shift in your mind, tilts his head toward Nina. “Why?” he asks, tone easy but laced with mild suspicion.

Nina taps her fingers against the table, her lips twitching as if she’s debating something. Then, she shrugs, but it’s far too casual to be genuine.

“I was just thinking…” she starts, letting the words linger, dangling in the air like bait.

You're hooked, despite yourself. Nina’s dramatic pause stretches, her fingers absently twirling a lock of her black hair as she builds the suspense.

"Since Kook and I took a few days off..." she starts, her tone almost too careful. Then, before either of you can react, she holds up a hand. "Look—before you call me crazy, I know it’s the middle of the week," she adds quickly, eyes locking onto Yoongi like she already expects his disapproval.

Yoongi exhales sharply, his patience wearing thin. "Just spit it out, for fuck’s sake."

Nina grins, as if this is exactly the reaction she was hoping for.

"Okay, so—I saw there’s a gig at The House tonight, and I thought, maybe we could all go. Check it out. You know, like we used to in high school."

Her words land heavy in the air. Nostalgia. A double-edged sword. You feel it settle into your chest, an old, familiar ache.

The House is a relic of your teen years, a place that holds too much history to ever feel neutral. By day, it was a quiet coffee shop, hidden from the general crowd—only those who truly knew TH even realized it was open before sunset.

But at night? It transformed. Gigs, live music, bands clawing their way into existence, hoping to be something more than just a name on a dimly lit flyer. The House wasn’t just a venue; it was a second home. A place where dreams felt tangible, where friendships were solidified over cheap drinks and lyrics screamed into the air.

And if you go tonight, you already know exactly how it’ll go. The moment you step through those doors, Alex will spot you. His signature flirty smirk will stretch across his lips, the same one he’s been sending your way since you were a teenager. He’s only two years older, but he’s been working at The House since your very first time there—and somehow, he never left. A fixture. A piece of that place, just like the worn-out stage and the dim, flickering neon sign above the entrance.

Alex was always a walking contradiction. Despite his shameless attempts to charm anything with two legs and a vagina, he was also something else to you. To all of you. Like an older brother who saw too much, who knew more than he let on. Who watched you fall in love—watched you get hurt—and never said a damn thing.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? If you go tonight, it won’t just be a night out. It’ll be a collision with your past, a forced confrontation with the version of yourself that once walked those same floors, heart bare and reckless.

So, no. Thank you, but no. You’d rather spend the night wallowing in your misery, drowning in thar email, than risk stepping back into a place that remembers too much.

“Ugh, I don’t know…” Yoongi scratches the back of his head, clearly torn between his usual routine and Nina’s relentless pleading.

You lean back in your chair, taking a slow sip of your coffee. “I have work tomorrow, girl,” you remind her, hoping she’ll get the hint.

Nina’s eyes widen, and she immediately pouts, sticking out her bottom lip like she’s trying to win a contest for the most dramatic face. “Please,” she begs, “we haven’t gone out since high school. Just one night. Please?”

You roll your eyes, feeling the weight of her stare. “One night? Yeah, right. You’ll be the first to tell me how much I regret it tomorrow.”

“Not if you’re with us!” Nina says, flipping her hair dramatically. “It’ll be fun! You, Kook, Yoongi and me—same old crew, just like the good old days.”

Yoongi scoffs, giving her a side-eye. “You act like we were some wild party animals back then.”

Nina grins mischievously. “Whatever, but I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You stare at her, arms crossed. “Fine. But this is the last time, you hear me? Next time you pull this stunt, I’m throwing you in a broom closet with Alex from The House.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Wait, so you're going just to avoid the broom closet?”

You shrug. “Maybe. Or maybe I just enjoy torturing myself.”

Jungkook, who had been quietly observing the conversation, finally speaks up, his voice a little hesitant but teasing. “You know,” he says, leaning in slightly, “if you really want to make it interesting, we could all take shots and make it a competition. Who can go the longest without regretting it?”

You glance at him, your eyebrow raised. “Oh, you think you’re some kind of expert on not regretting things?”

Jungkook smirks, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Well, I did just propose, didn’t I? That takes a lot of confidence... and the ability to ignore some regrets.”

You laugh dryly, rolling your eyes. “Good one, Kook. Real subtle.”

Nina claps her hands excitedly. “Yes! That’s exactly the spirit we need! It’s settled. We’re going!”

You lean back in your chair, pretending to contemplate. “Fine. But if I hate it, I’m blaming all of you. And I’ll make sure you pay for the coffee tomorrow.”

Yoongi leans back in his chair with a smirk. “If I end up with a hangover tomorrow, I’m blaming you. And I’ll make sure you’re the one buying that coffee.”

Jungkook grins, chiming in, “I think I will need another coffee after Nina’s ‘party planning.’”

Nina gives him a playful glare. “You’re all just jealous you don’t have the same enthusiasm for drinking.”

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah. But if I end up regretting this, I’m haunting every single one of you.”

Nina winks. “Deal!”

The weight of reality hits you the moment you step through the door of your apartment. The familiar scent of home isn’t as comforting as it used to be; instead, it hangs in the air like an unwelcome reminder. Why? Why did you agree to this reunion, knowing exactly what it would stir up? Going to The House feels like self-sabotage—it feels like clawing at open wounds that never really healed, just scabbed over. It's a mistake. You know it’s a mistake.

You stare blankly at your surroundings, the space that once felt so much like yours, and now it feels... wrong. The corner of your table catches your eye. Your laptop sits there, silently screaming at you. It’s the email. That email. It’s been sitting there all day, mocking you. “Take me. Read me. You know you want to,” it seems to whisper. But you won’t. Not today. No. You won’t let yourself fall back into that mess—not today, not when you're already feeling like this.

You push the thought away, willing yourself to breathe through the tightness building in your chest. There’s a limit to how much you can take, and you’ve reached it. You will not engage with that stupid email today, no matter how much it calls to you like some kind of irresistible siren. No. Not when you have exactly three hours before you have to face everyone.

Before you have to see Jungkook again.

It’s been so long since you’ve had to look him in the eye. Seeing him earlier today was one thing, but now, after everything, having to face him again—two times in one day—feels like too much. You’re not sure what you expected from today, but you know it wasn’t this.

Not this weight.

You stand there, frozen in the middle of your apartment, knowing you should get ready. But it feels impossible. Every part of you is screaming to run away, to hide from the past that keeps trying to drag you back. But you can’t. You won’t. You have to face it—face them. Even if it feels like you’re suffocating under the pressure of it all.

Your mind drifts back to The House, the one place you’ve avoided for so long. The memories are already flooding back. The laughter, the music, the people you used to know so well. But most of all, it’s the feeling of him—Jungkook. His presence is still a shadow over everything. And you know, deep down, this reunion, this thing Nina’s dragging you into, is just going to make everything worse. You're not ready.

You never will be.

Your phone lights up, the soft ping of a new message breaking the silence of your apartment. You glance down—Yoongi.

Yoon 🤍: ya home?

You: yea, just arrived. u?

Yoon 🤍: same. you sure you wanna go out tonight?

You: no, haha. wby?

Yoon 🤍: same man. but she’s my sis and the bride, gotta make her happy.

You: yeaa

Yoon 🤍: and i guess it would be nice to chill there, like before yk? see alex.

You: yeah, i miss alex, lowkey feel gulity for not visiting him there.

Yoon 🤍: yea me too.

Yoon 🤍: go get ready, we’ll be picking you up later.

Your phone pings again, Yoongi’s name lighting up the screen.

Yoon 🤍: you okay tho?

You: yeah, just... weird.

Yoon 🤍: i get that. but it’ll be fine. i’ll be there.

You: thanks. i guess it’s just… i dunno, feels like a lot of things are gonna come back up.

Yoon 🤍: yeah, i hear you. but sometimes it’s good to face the past, yk?

You: idk if i’m ready for that.

Yoon 🤍: i’ll be there to distract you if it gets too much.

You: appreciate it.

Yoon 🤍: of course. just get ready, we’ll be leaving soon.

You: alright, give me like 20 minutes.

Yoon 🤍: sounds good. see you soon.

You set your phone down, trying to take a deep breath, but then the realization hits. You quickly grab your phone again.

You: wtf dude, aren’t u supposed to pick me up in 3 hrs, not this soon?

Yoon 🤍: 😂 i’m messing with you. we won’t be there for a while. but hurry up, time’s ticking!

You: you’re an asshole, but i’m getting ready.

You roll your eyes, setting the phone down again.

As soon as you slide into the car, a sense of discomfort washes over you. It’s like stepping into a memory you’d rather not revisit, yet here you are. The seating arrangement is completely different from what you expected. Yoongi is at the wheel, his hands lazily draped over the steering wheel, fingers splayed wide. He’s laughing at something Nina’s saying—some ridiculous piece of friendship drama she’s telling him, no doubt embellished for dramatic effect. Nina, as usual, is sitting in the passenger seat, her voice louder than the rest of the car’s noise.

Then there's the seating beside you: Jungkook. It feels strange. Just like before. Yoongi and Nina are up front, gossiping, while you and Jungkook are squeezed into the backseat like it’s high school all over again. You’d imagined Nina and Jungkook sitting next to each other, given the whole engagement thing, but no—Nina missed her brother so much, she had to hog him for herself.

You sit next to Jungkook, trying to ignore the growing awkwardness. The car is small—Yoongi’s car is cramped, and the backseat feels even smaller. Jungkook is practically taking up half of it, his body large and solid, pushing you against the door like a pancake. You can sense the heat radiating off him, and every time he shifts, it’s like you feel it. His leg brushes against yours, making the space feel even more suffocating.

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, trying to adjust, but his leg doesn’t budge much.

You chuckle dryly, trying to mask the tension in your chest. “It’s fine. Not like you can really do anything about it,” you say, motioning vaguely at how small the car is with your hand.

He nods, his eyes drifting to the window, as if he’s looking for some kind of escape in the passing scenery. The silence stretches between you, the weight of old, unspoken words hanging in the air.

You clear your throat, breaking the silence, whispering, even though your voice sounds too loud in your head. “I’m glad, you know.”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks at you, confusion flickering in his gaze.

“About your engagement,” you clarify, glancing at him. “How your life turned out. It’s... good to see.”

He softens at that, nodding in appreciation. “Thank you. Same goes for you. I’m glad all your dreams came true.”

You offer a small, forced smile. “Yeah, thank you.” The words are polite, but they feel like they belong to someone else.

The words hang in the air for a moment, soft but heavy. Jungkook’s voice barely breaks through the hum of the car, but you catch it, feeling the weight of it settle between you.

“Did you ever regret it?” His words are a whisper, but there's a tremor in his tone, something vulnerable hiding beneath the surface. You glance at him, catching the shift in his expression—there’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, like he's waiting for something, anything, from you.

You feel your chest tighten. Regret? The question cuts deeper than you expected. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the cramped space suddenly feeling even smaller.

“Regret what?” You ask, your voice quieter than you intended, your breath catching slightly as you look over at him.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the passing streetlights outside, as if the answer is too difficult to voice. “Following your dreams,” he says again, slower this time, as if testing the words on his tongue.

You breathe in sharply, trying to shake off the heaviness that threatens to settle in your chest. You let the silence stretch for a beat too long before you respond, trying to sound more certain than you feel.

“Never thought about it,” you reply, the words leaving your mouth easily enough. You glance away from him, fingers fiddling with the hem of your sleeve as you add, “But no, I don’t think so.”

And yet, even as the words leave your lips, there’s a flicker of doubt. A small part of you wonders if you really don’t regret it—if you don’t regret all the things you left behind in the process, the pieces of yourself that never quite fit after chasing everything else.

The rest of the ride passes in silence between you and Jungkook, the quiet tension almost suffocating. The only sounds are the hum of the engine and the occasional shift of his leg pressing against yours, the warmth of it seeping through your jeans, but neither of you speak. The space between you feels like a canyon, and you’re unsure if you’re even capable of bridging it anymore.

Instead, you let Nina's voice fill the car, a steady stream of gossip, her words a distracting, almost absurd relief from the heavy quiet. You listen absently as she recounts her latest drama, her tone increasingly animated.

“So, like,” Nina starts, her voice brimming with excitement, “Ana, you know Ana, right?” Yoongi nods. “Well, apparently, she’s been sleeping with her best friend’s husband. And get this—she’s been doing it right under her nose, for months.”

You blink, glancing at Nina through the rearview mirror, raising your eyebrows. The shock registers slowly. What the hell?

“I mean, what kind of shit is that? You should’ve seen Ana’s face when I called her out on it. She was like, ‘It’s just a fling, Nina. I don’t owe anyone an explanation.’” Nina lets out a loud, disbelieving laugh, “A fling?! With a married man? How do you even get to that point?”

You can feel the tension in the car rise, your stomach sinking as Nina’s story spirals.

"And guess what? The wife knows—she just hasn’t said anything yet. She's playing it cool, waiting to catch them in the act. She’s just letting Ana keep digging her own grave.”

Nina’s eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, a grin playing at the corner of her mouth as she leans in closer to Yoongi, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Wait,” you interject, not sure if you want to hear any more, “So, what—Ana's sleeping with the guy while his wife is just letting her?”

Nina nods, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Exactly! And the best part?” She leans forward, her voice dropping dramatically. “She caught them at a party the other night. The husband literally walked right past her, gave Ana this huge kiss on the cheek, and then turned to his wife and said, ‘Babe, I’m going to grab another drink.’ As if nothing was going on!”

You stare at her, blinking in disbelief. “What the hell?”

Nina throws her hands up in mock frustration, her eyes wide as if she's about to lose her mind. “I know! It’s like a fucking soap opera. I swear to God, I can’t keep up with these people anymore.” She shakes her head, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Like, if you’re gonna cheat, at least have the decency to be subtle about it.”

You glance over at Jungkook, who still hasn’t spoken, his eyes focused outside the window, though you can tell he's listening. His profile is unreadable, but you wonder if all lf this is more of a distraction for him than it is for you.

As soon as you step into The House, everything is blurry. The chaos of the night engulfs you—laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the booming bass from the speakers that makes the floor beneath your feet vibrate. There are a lot of faces, some familiar, some new. Thank God for the new ones. For a moment, you let yourself breathe in the energy of the place, the music blaring, the cigarette smoke curling around you, invading your senses.

Then you hear the familiar sound of a voice you didn’t realize you missed.

"Well, well, well, look who it is."

Behind the bar, a wide grin spreads across Alex’s face, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees the four of you. Without hesitation, he’s moving—practically running—towards Jungkook. The scene is a little bizarre, sure. Alex, a full head shorter than Jungkook, wraps his arms around him like a long-lost mother finally reunited with her child.

“My boy!” Alex beams, patting Jungkook’s back like he’s proud of him for some hidden accomplishment. Jungkook laughs, actually laughs, his shoulders shaking a little with the sound.

“You’ve gotten so big. You’re huge now,” Alex adds, since the last time he saw Jungkook was… Well… Years ago.

Jungkook smirks, chuckling under his breath. “You forgot how to use a razor or something,” Jungkook says, pointing at Alex’s beard.

The comment makes Alex pull back just enough to give him a playful shove. “Hey, don’t start with me. I’m just getting better with age, alright?”

Nina, with a sly grin, steps forward as Alex turns to her. "Pretty girl," Alex motions toward her with a wink, “Look at you. Thinking about giving me a chance already?”

Nina laughs, rolling her eyes but giving him the affectionate hug he’s so eager to receive. “You’re still so lame.”

"You know I’m just being nice,” Alex says, patting her on the back as she pulls away. “But I’ll take the hug. You look good, girl.”

Yoongi, already standing off to the side with his arms crossed, lets out a small sigh. "The nerdy," Alex singsongs, eyes narrowing with the teasing tone. He gives Yoongi a respectful dap, fully aware how Yoongi’s personal space is sacred.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pull away, muttering a quiet, “You’re lucky I don’t have to be nice to you,” but his voice holds no real bite.

And then Alex’s gaze falls on you. His eyes soften immediately, like everything around him just slows down. He leans over the counter, his arms outstretched toward you. “And my lil monster,” he murmurs, his body melting into yours as you wrap your arms around him.

You breathe in, the scent of him enveloping you—cologne, wood smoke, and something you swear smells like the old leather of the barstools. He smells like home. A safe place you didn’t know you needed.

“I missed you too,” you say, your voice surprisingly soft as you bury your face in his shoulder.

Alex chuckles, pulling back just a bit to give you a knowing look. “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

You smirk, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t start, Alex.”

“Can’t help it,” he grins widely, the energy between you two palpable. “You all still owe me drinks. I’m running a tab tonight. Just like old times, yeah?”

Nina glances at Yoongi with a raised brow. “You know, I don’t think I ever told him no,” she says, half-teasing, half-serious.

Yoongi snorts, his arms still crossed. “We’re still not paying for you. Last time you drank enough for all of us.”

Alex throws his head back, laughing loudly, clearly unbothered by their teasing. “Yeah, yeah. But I’m the one who knows the best drinks, so you’re all stuck with me.”

You settle into the bar stools, the hard, cool surface pressing into your legs, yet it feels oddly comforting. The familiar buzz of The House surrounds you—dim lights, low murmurs of conversation, and the steady hum of the music—but all you can focus on is the figure behind the bar. Alex. His face practically glows as he crosses his arms, his sharp gaze flicking between the four of you with an intensity that feels almost... predatory. It’s like he’s studying you, looking for something, anything, that betrays the carefully constructed walls each of you put up. You can almost feel the weight of his eyes on you, dissecting every movement, every shift.

“So, what’s new?” Alex asks, his voice casual, but his eyes betray an underlying curiosity that you’re not sure you want to indulge.

Surprisingly, it’s Jungkook who answers first. He was always the one who could talk to Alex without hesitation, like the two of them shared some sacred bond. You can almost hear the warmth in his voice when he speaks. “I’m getting married, bro.”

Alex freezes for a moment, and for the briefest second, time seems to halt in its tracks. His brows furrow, and a flicker of recognition crosses his face as he processes Jungkook’s words. Then, his eyes dart to you, and it feels like the world slows down, all noise fading into a dull hum.

“Dang, dude,” Alex says, the words lingering in the air. “So I didn’t only miss you making it official, I missed the whole proposal?”

And just like that, everything shifts. The air in the room turns thick, suffocating. Your breath catches in your chest, and for a second, you think you might choke on your own thoughts. What? The? Fuck? Why would he say something like that? Why would he imply something so... loaded?

Jungkook gulps, his hand instinctively reaching for his drink, but it’s not served yet. There’s nothing to steady the trembling in his fingers. You see the tension in his jaw, the way he clenches his teeth, as if holding himself back from saying something. Yoongi’s eyes shut for a fraction of a second, like he’s trying to block out the uncomfortable atmosphere. Nina just stares, her expression unreadable, caught somewhere between confusion and shock.

And you? You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to feel. All you can hear is the sound of your own pulse thudding in your ears, louder than any of the chatter around you. You want to say something—anything—to break the tension, but your words get stuck in your throat.

But then, like a cruel punchline, Alex bursts into laughter. It’s not just a chuckle. It’s manic, almost cackling, like he’s just pulled off the best prank of his life.

“Ha!” he says, his voice ringing with amusement. “Should’ve seen your faces, I’m just kidding.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, but the relief doesn’t last. It doesn’t feel like a joke. Not really. The weight of his words hangs in the air, lingering in a way that makes you feel like you’re being suffocated by something you can’t shake. Because Alex is too good at reading people. He knows. He knows something shifted in the room, something unspoken that’s now hanging between you all. And even though he’s laughing, you can feel the subtle shift in his demeanor. You can feel his gaze flicker toward you, that apologetic look in his eyes—his way of trying to backpedal, to ease the tension he just created.

But it doesn’t feel like an apology. Not when you see how his eyes flick toward Jungkook with that look—a silent understanding passing between them. It’s the kind of look that speaks volumes, and you know exactly what it means: He saw it. He knows.

The air feels colder now, heavier. And no one says a word as Alex wipes the smile off his face, pretending like everything is fine, like nothing just happened. But you can’t shake the feeling that nothing good comes after this.

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[lesservillain]

congratulations on 2000 followers! 🍀

could i request baby daddy eddie with the smut prompt 22 ‘are you doing that on purpose?’

thank you so much you're so kind! hope you enjoy :)

join the 2k celebration!

cw: baby daddy!eddieverse (non canon compliant), unprotected piv (but he pulls out), reader testing eddie's resilience on purpose

wc: 2.5k (I am so sorry lol)

Eddie was sure he was going crazy. He was positive. There was no way you were wearing those little sundresses just for him. No way you were leaning forward or bending over in front of him to get his attention. You were just comfortable around him. Something that he was happy about after living together for a month and a half now. 

But, damn it if it wasn’t getting him riled up. He swears he saw a peak of your ass when you bent over in front of him to pick up Autumn’s toys in the living room. You had stretched out really far to grab something and the hem of your dress rode up to expose the curve of it, and he swears you lingered there long enough for him to get a good look on purpose. 

He gets it’s getting into the mid 80s, but did you have to wear a thong? He didn’t know how he could keep going on knowing what you had on under those dresses. The dresses that were so short they showed off your legs to him, making his mind wander into places that they shouldn’t as they disappeared into the flower printed fabric.

And don’t even get him started on the fact that you weren’t wearing bras around the trailer. There was little left to the imagination when he could see your hard nipples barely covered by the material covering them. Not to mention your tits were practically spilling out at all times and he could barely keep his eyes off of them. 

But Eddie kept his cool. He pretended that it didn’t bother him around you, only to beat off in the shower after a long day of suffering through you prancing around the house in front of him. Work was his only reprieve from the torture you were putting him through, because as soon as he came home to you plating the table in that short denim skirt, he was immediately getting hard.

After weeks of suffering through this, Eddie had finally reached his breaking point. The two of you had put Autumn to bed when you ran into the bedroom to get ready for bed. It was starting to stay hot at night and Eddie expected you to come out in a t-shirt and some sleep shorts like you normally do. But here you are, sitting next to him on the couch in nothing but a pair of skimpy underwear and one of his shirts.

”Sweetheart,” Eddie says, turning to face you on the couch. You look at him with wide eyes and give him a smile.

”What’s up?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, trying to keep his eyes off your exposed skin. ”Are you doing that on purpose?” He gestures at your legs and he watches the way they shift when he gives them attention. You tilt your head at him, a confused look on your face.

”Doing what?” You say with a giggle, seeming unsure of what he’s referring to.

”Are you…y’know, wearing that to get a reaction out of me?”

You look down at yourself then look back at him. “I’m sorry, does me wearing your shirt bother you?” You ask with genuine concern.

”No, not at all,” Eddie says waving his hands. “It’s not that you’re wearing my shirt. Well, it’s kinda that, but it’s not a bad thing.”

”I don’t understand, Eddie,” you say, shaking your head slowly.

”Ugh, I just…” Eddie takes a deep breath in before fully facing you. You mirror his actions, worry etched on your face. “Listen, I know it’s hot and all that, but I can’t…can’t help but notice the things you’ve been wearing around the house.” Eddie’s eyes are downcast, not feeling the courage to look you in the eyes as he confesses what he’s been feeling.

”What I’ve been wearing?” You ask, trying to get him to continue.

”Yeah, like the short dresses and the skirts…the low cut tops…no bra…” Eddie’s mind begins to wander as all of your outfits flash into his mind. He’s trying to will himself not to get hard in this moment, but it seems to be a losing battle.

”What about them? Do they bother you?”

”It’s not that they bother me in a bad way. More like…the exact opposite.” Eddie knows his face has to be red as he says these things to you. “And I guess I just got it in my head that you’re wearing these things on purpose, to try and get a rise out of me.”

The room is silent for a moment. Eddie doesn’t dare look at you, because he’s sure you’re about to laugh at him for making such a stupid assumption. Why did he think this was a good idea? He should have just kept his big mouth shut.

”Is it working?”

The tone of your voice has Eddie’s eyes snapping up to look at you. You’ve got a devilish look on your face that makes Eddie feel like he could melt into the cushion of the couch right now.

”W-what?” Eddie stutters out, not sure if he heard you right.

”I said is it working?” You repeat, leaning forward into his personal space. Oh god, what’s happening?

”Are you being serious right now?” Eddie doesn’t want to mistake this for something it’s not. The last thing he needs is to make you uncomfortable and have you leaving him.

But when you start to climb on top of him, he starts to think maybe he was right all along.

”As serious as a heart attack,” you say, your eyes on his lips as you inch your face closer to his. Eddie feels his heart skip a beat when you brush your lips against his, subconsciously leaning forward to chase after them. You didn’t resist as his lips met yours, slowly moving them against his in a passionate kiss. Eddie swears he sees sparks every time he gets to kiss you and this time is no different.

You wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pushing your body against his as the kiss picks up, getting more heated with every passing second. Eddie is impossibly hard in his jeans right now and all you’ve done is kiss him, but in this moment he doesn’t even care. He doesn’t even care if this kiss doesn’t go anywhere, he’s just happy to have this with you right now, his dick be damned.

But you seemed to have other plans as you lower yourself into his lap, fully seating yourself against the tent in his pants. Eddie lets out a low moan as you start to rock your hips over him, the friction feeling so good that he can’t help but grab your hips and keep you moving over him. The feeling of your soft, bare skin in his hands was enough to drive him crazy. 

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” You suddenly ask, pulling away from him. The sultry look on your face was enough to do Eddie in, and he wasted no time wrapping his arms around your legs and lifting you up on the couch. You let out a giggly squeal as he picked you up, your grip around his neck tightening as he carried you into your shared bedroom.

Eddie playfully tossed you into the bed, eliciting a laugh from you as you bounced on the mattress. You beckoned him with grabby hands and he obliged you by crawling over your frame on the bed. Grabbing his collar, you pulled him into another kiss that made Eddie’s head spin. It makes him feel brave enough to let his hand slip under the hem of your shirt, gliding over the expanse of your soft stomach until he reaches your chest. You must like this, because you gasp against his mouth as he begins to fondle your breast in his big hands.

Suddenly, your hands leave his shirt and make their way lower until you’re at the button of his jeans. You pop it open with little resistance, the old zipper coming undone on its own from the pressure of how hard he was straining against them. With little warning, you slipped your hand into his boxers and grabbed at his length, making Eddie’s breath hitch from the contact. Eddie retracted his hand from your chest to help you pull his pants down enough that you could release his cock from its confines. 

You immediately start to stroke him, moving your hand up and down his aching length. The way you rolled your hand over his tip had his brain going dumb, turning him into putty in your grasp. “Shit,” he breathes out, looking down to watch you work him. And when you stop he wants to whine out like a pathetic dog. But his complaints die on his tongue when he watches your hands reach down for your panties and pull them down. He sees the little wet patch in the crotch and starts to salivate. Would you let him eat you out again like last time?

He got his answer in the needy way you called his name. You looked at him with lidded eyes and Eddie was a goner, ready to give you whatever you wanted. “Please,” you beg, grabbing for him again. “Need you.”

“Awe, you poor thing,” Eddie cooes at you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you pout, crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, you better hurry up and get to it before I change my mind.” Eddie took that threat very seriously. He moved himself until he was situated between your legs, staring at your exposed center as you opened up for him. He goes to line himself with your entrance when you put a hand against his chest to stop him.

”Not to ruin the mood, but do you have a condom?” Eddie blinks at you, sweat forming in his hairline.

”N-no,” he says, brows coming together. He didn’t think this was going to happen again so he never went out and got any, even after your last encounter. He won’t be mad if you decide to call it since he doesn’t, but he really hopes that you don’t.

”Ugh, okay,” you say defeated, and Eddie feels all the excitement drain from his body. “Just make sure you pull out this time.” Eddie’s ears perk up at this and he gives you a harsh nod, accepting your request.

”Yes ma’am,” he says, giving you a salute. You roll your eyes at him, but can’t stop yourself from smiling. 

Eddie lines himself up again and starts to push himself inside of you. Your head falls back as he pushes further in, only stopping once he’s fully inside. Eddie’s not faring much better than you, the way your cunt is squeezing him feels like heaven on his cock. He gives you a second to adjust after having no prep before he starts moving, not wanting to hurt you.

”God, you’re so big Eddie,” you breathe out, and the words go straight to his cock. He starts to rock his hips back and forth, starting slow at first until he gets a good pace going. Your moans are music to Eddie’s ears, only egging him on. 

“Harder.” Your words are strained, driving Eddie crazy to hear you beg like this. He leans forward, caging you between his arms as he gets into a better position to really fuck you. His hips smack against you as he delivers harsh thrusts into you, his cock hitting you deep inside.

His name leaves your lips in a series of chants intermingled with curses and calls to the lord. Eddie should be trying to shush you so you don’t wake your daughter up, but he doesn’t want to give up having to hear you like this either. So he settles for the next best thing, which is bringing his lips to yours and kissing you to shut you up. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in closer, faces mushing together from how close you were. 

You start to claw at his back, his shirt riding up to expose the skin there for your nails to dig into. The pain felt so good, like you were marking him as yours with each scratch that you left behind. Not like you needed to make it known he was yours, you were the only one for him anyway.

”Fuck, I’m close,” Eddie says, panting against your lips.

”Mmm, need a little more,” you say, and Eddie gets the hint right away. He puts his weight on his one arm and reaches between you to rub your clit. He’s never done it before so he has to do some guess work down there, but when you sigh as he comes in contact with what he thinks he’s looking for he gets to work on your bud.

”Oh my god,” you moan, and Eddie swears he can see hearts in your eyes when he looks down at your fucked out expression. While he’s focused on your pleasure, you bury a hand in his hair and pull his head back, exposing his neck to you. Eddie’s eyes roll back at the feeling, discovering something about himself in that moment. 

And when your lips land on the exposed skin of his neck he has to take a moment to refocus himself so he doesn’t cum right then and there. The way you’re completely devouring his neck is definitely going to leave a few marks tomorrow, but he doesn’t care. He’ll walk into work with pride tomorrow knowing that you were the one to mark him up for everyone to see. 

With the sensory overload, Eddie can feel himself about to reach his end at any moment. He was determined to make you cum first though, so he held off and picked up the speed on your clit. You started to flutter around him so he took that as you getting close and continued to pound into you.

”Fuck, Eddieeeee!” He feels you cumming around his cock and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt in his life. As he’s about to cum, he stops his movements and grabs his cock, withdrawing it from you at the last second to cum on your stomach. His hand works himself quickly to ride out the feeling as he paints your skin with his cum, working every last drop out of him.

”Shit,” he grunts, grabbing the tip of his cock and holding it as the last of his spend leaves it. He unscrews his eyes, blinking them open to look at the mess he’s made of you. He feels something tugging on his hair and he looks up at you to find you playing with it, a satisfied grin on your face.

”You okay?” He asks, and you give him a lazy nod for an answer. “Let me get you cleaned up.” He goes to get up but you call his name to stop him.

”I was thinking we could get in the shower…together.”

Eddie’s heart soared at the suggestion, wanting nothing more than to do that with you. Things might not be clear between you now, but he’ll do whatever he can to keep you close to him for as long as you’ll allow it.

[hannieween]

starlight | lights out series

✮ pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader x joshua hong ✮ genre: fluff, smut [18+] ✮ aus: theatre director jeonghan, rockstar joshua, polyamorous relationship, mlm ✮ word count: 14.6k

✮ warnings: smut with plot, alcohol consumption (no dubcon), possessiveness, mmf threesome, oral sex (both m and f receiving), penetration anal and vaginal, reader is on birth control, making out, edging, dirty talk, fingering, breeding kink, dry humping, cucking, brat taming, bondage, dom joshua, switch jeonghan, sub reader. pet names: beautiful, bunny, princess, baby (hers) babe, handsome (jihan)

› 🎧: seven – jung kook | am pm – jay b ft. whee in | can't get you – jaehyun | moonlit floor – lisa | spark – winter | slow dancing – v | hit the floor – ethan low | being – tabber ft. yerin baek

→ season one — season two — read more

› the banner was made by the beautiful @coupsiedaisee thank you baby!!

✮ author's note: hellooooo! i wanted to post this for joshie's birthday but hehe i am very slow and get distracted easily :(

also, this chapter is filled with smut lol. there is so little plot in here i'm sorry. i love you all ♡︎

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

part vii

You were awakened by the creaking of the mattress. You had grown accustomed to feeling the warmth of two bodies on either side of you as you slept, so before you opened your eyes, you knew you were alone under the covers.

The faint sunlight was streaming through the thin slits in the curtains, and you knew it was early morning. Then, the second sound was what really pushed you to lucidity and brought you out of your slumber. The dull sound of something akin to pain made you open your eyelids. Pain... and pleasure.

As soon as you opened your eyes, you had to blink a couple of times in the blinding sunlight. But everything became clearer, the half-closed curtains, the unpacked luggage forgotten in a corner of the bedroom... and hands clenching into fists around the sheets at the foot of the bed.

Jeonghan had his eyes closed, his eyelids trembling lightly, and his mouth hanging open. You understood that he had been the one making those sounds, like grunts of pain and pleasure, and you understood why. Joshua was standing behind, his hands on Jeonghan’s hips, holding him steady as he pushed his hips in a slow, but deep motion.

They were both naked. Joshua had his eyes closed too, but his expression was riddled with pleasure, his eyebrows deeply drawn inward, his lips parted. The pleasure in his face was evident, and when he bit his bottom lip, you knew that he was trying not to moan.

What you didn’t know, because you were not there to see was that they had started with playful teasing, and bantering in the living room. They teased each other with kisses, telling each other quippy retorts while trying not to make much noise since they didn’t want to wake you up.

But the playful kisses quickly had turned into something else, something both of them hadn’t been able to stop, they did not want to. It became a game of hushed kisses, and humming noises as both Jeonghan and Joshua became drunk on one another, laughing at themselves when their clothes started hitting the floor of the living room.

“Shh,” Joshua had pulled back slightly, sneaking a quick glance at the bedroom door.

“She won’t hear us,” Jeonghan had said confidently. He ran his fingers through the hair on Joshua’s nape, raking his fingertips on his scalp.

Joshua shuddered so hard he almost choked on his own spit. “God. Don’t do that,” he groaned, pressing his lips on Jeonghan’s.

Jeonghan laughed lightly. “What, this—?” he spread his fingertips on Joshua’s nape, letting his nails slide on Joshua’s scalp.

“Fuck,” Joshua gritted, closing his eyes.

“You’re the one who’s going to wake her up,” Jeonghan chuckled quietly.

Joshua didn’t reply right away. Instead, he pressed his hips down on Jeonghan’s pelvis, knowing that he’d find a growing bulge beneath Jeonghan’s sweats.

It was Jeonghan’s turn to groan, his fingers curling around Joshua’s dark hair, tugging it a little.

“We should do something about these clothes,” Joshua mumbled playfully, there was no smile on his face. He tried to keep his features straight, but there was a slight twinkle in his eyes, showing his eagerness.

“You first,” Jeonghan replied, sticking his hands beneath Joshua’s t-shirt before there was any protest.

Jeonghan slid his hands up Joshua’s back, raking his skin with his fingertips just slightly. The white t-shirt was hiked up Joshua’s torso, as Jeonghan enjoyed the low grunts that the raking of his fingertips created.

And so, they started losing their clothes, each item joining the other on the floor until it was littered with their t-shirts, sweats, and underwear. The living room was quiet, as the morning light kept creeping in between the parted curtains.

Jeonghan’s heartbeat was so loud that he believed you would hear it all the way to your bedroom. His breathing became ragged as he kept kissing Joshua’s lips, each kiss more addictive than the last.

“Do you think she’ll wake up soon?” Jeonghan asked as Joshua planted another kiss.

Joshua brought a hand to cup Jeonghan’s chin. “What, are you regretting this already?” he asked playfully.

“No, I mean—” he gasped dramatically as Joshua’s hand left his chin, and trailed down both their bodies, “I wonder what her face would be if she finds us like this.”

“Go wake her up, then,” Joshua suggested, tucking his hand in the space between their bodies, finding Jeonghan’s hard dick and circling his fingers around it.

“No, no… not yet,” Jeonghan mumbled faintly, closing his eyes as Joshua rolled his hand, jerking Jeonghan off.

A game of sorts had started then—how far could they get before you woke up? And Joshua took the challenge all too wilfully, doing things to bring out more sounds from Jeonghan.

Joshua started by leaving hot kisses on Jeonghan’s neck, greedily sucking up spots on his skin as Jeonghan tried the best he could to keep himself quiet. But he was being driven deliriously mad, he must be living a dream, he kept thinking. His heart was still beating frantically against his chest as Joshua marked up a spot on top of his heart.

Jeonghan’s mind spun, his hand leaving Joshua’s nape as the trail of kisses inched further down his body. Joshua sucked up another red spot on Jeonghan’s lower tummy, bringing out a strangled sound out of him.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan whispered, glancing down at his body. Joshua wrapped his lips around Jeonghan’s swollen cockhead, tasting the precum leaking in his slit.

Joshua had never done something like this before. But he retraced every single thing he liked when he was at the receiving end. So he pulled out his tongue, licking up and down Jeonghan’s length a few times before closing his mouth around the cockhead again and sinking down slowly.

If the loud beating of Jeonghan’s heart won’t wake you up, then the sound of his moans would. His mouth parted, hands flying to clutch at the cushions of the couch. He had to be dreaming, Jeonghan thought. Joshua slid his mouth up and down Jeonghan’s cock, the movements were slow and hesitant, like getting used to it before daring to pick up the pace.

Jeonghan closed his eyes, bringing a hand to the back of Joshua’s head, following the movements of it. Jeonghan exhaled deeply, enjoying the warmth of Joshua’s mouth, the tentative, but steady movement of his tongue every time he pulled his head back, swirling around the cockhead.

“Joshua,” he called in a moan. “Fuck, stop, stop,” he urged with a whisper.

Joshua pulled his head back, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to Jeonghan’s pink cockhead. “Am I doing it wrong?” he asked innocently.

“No, I just…” Jeonghan trailed off, letting his head fall back on the cushions. “Don’t wanna cum just yet.”

It seemed almost crazy to Jeonghan that some nights ago, he felt so far away from the version of himself that was head over heels for Joshua. But now he knew—that version of him never really went away.

He still was crazy for Joshua.

Joshua crawled back on top, using his arms to frame Jeonghan’s head. “Okay,” he replied gently, planting a kiss on Jeonghan’s lips. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Jeonghan felt like he had just been pushed into a cliff, and he was free-falling. “I…” he croaked, his eyes shifting from Joshua’s dark eyes to his plump and soft lips. “I don’t know what I want.”

Joshua giggled softly. “I’ll take it slowly. Tell me what’s off the table.”

Jeonghan thought about it for a second. He wanted Joshua; he wanted him so badly that it was starting to become annoying and painful. “Kiss me,” he whispered, feeling like it was a good way to retake what they were doing.

Joshua had kissed Jeonghan slowly, but passionately. Their lips fit together so well that the kisses quickly progressed into another make-out session. One thing led to another, and soon Jeonghan would let himself be dragged to your bedroom, where Joshua could get a condom and a bottle of lube.

The scene was brutally alluring to you. Catching them before anyone noticed that you were watching silently as they tried to not wake you up. It quickly got your skin heating up, the way Jeonghan bit down his bottom lip making your thighs press tightly.

But you kept your face covered snugly beneath the bed sheets, watching them without being too obvious about it. You wanted to know how much you could get from the moment without them noticing you. You kept watching the moment unravel before your eyes, wondering what had happened moments before you woke up.

Joshua slid a hand on Jeonghan’s lower back, sliding it down his milky white skin. Both looked like they were dying to voice their pleasure. Joshua kept swallowing his moans while Jeonghan bit harder at his bottom lip.

You dared to uncover your face slightly, just so you could get more from the view in front of you. Jeonghan’s hands were holding onto the bedcovers, you could see his pretty cock, hard, the tip swollen and leaking pre-cum. But he kept himself steady, in place and bending over for Joshua.

A quiet exhale escaped you before you could stop it. Joshua pulled back his hips and then pushed his cock back inside Jeonghan, the motion of his hips deep and calculated. You could tell that it was taking everything in Joshua to keep himself in control—a vein in his neck had started to pop out, and his breathing was turning fitful.

And you ached to join—to share the pleasure that they had so jealously kept to themselves. A tingling sensation made your pussy flutter, noticing that you had started to wet your panties.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, blinking a few times to find you looking at them. His lips curved in a knowing smile, and he had to bite his bottom lip as Joshua kept rutting into Jeonghan’s ass. “Come here, baby,” Jeonghan mumbled, palming the bedspread with one hand.

You realized after some moments that he was talking to you. Being so dazed by the image in front of you, that you slowly drew the bed sheets and covers down, uncovering your body as he palmed the bedspread again.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Joshua sighed upon spotting you—wide awake, and aware of what your boyfriends were up to.

Joshua pulled his hips back, rutting into Jeonghan harder—deeper, eliciting a raw moan from Jeonghan. “Go slowly,” Jeonghan said with a low tone, as though he had already given that instruction a couple of times before. A reminder.

“Yeah, yeah,” Joshua replied shakily, swallowing so hard his throat bobbed.

You crawled to where Jeonghan was motioning you to. “Lay here, princess,” he instructed with a gentle tone, but with a hard edge to it. The expression on his face was taut in pleasure, he was blinking repeatedly, as though his vision were blurry.

You laid back on the bedspread, your eyes flitting from Jeonghan’s to Joshua’s. “Good morning you two,” you mumbled, smiling softly.

They both smiled, as though they had just accomplished an unspoken mission. “Good morning princess,” Joshua exhaled, giving you a lazy smile.

Jeonghan hooked his fingers beneath the band of your panties, pulling and letting it snap your skin, bringing a yelp out of you. “Get these off now,” he instructed with urgency.

You took your panties off, wondering what Jeonghan wanted to do next. His hand slipped between your thighs, motioning you to spread them for him. Both Joshua and Jeonghan watched as you opened your thighs, unapologetically showing them how wet you had gotten.

“Mmn, look how wet she is,” Jeonghan cooed mockingly, pulling his body back so he could turn his head to Joshua.

Joshua smiled softly, meeting Jeonghan’s lips with his own in a swift, open kiss. “You should eat her out,” he mumbled, giving Jeonghan another kiss.

Jeonghan hummed into the kiss, making you feel jealous for an instant. But you didn’t know which kiss you desired more—Jeonghan or Joshua’s.

Joshua pulled out gently, panting softly as Jeonghan positioned one knee on the foot of the bed for support before bending down so his head met your pussy. And without saying anything else, he licked a broad stripe on your pussy, parting your folds with his fingers.

You pushed your knees back, feet dangling off the bedspread as Jeonghan started eating your pussy out, drinking you in. “Fuck, Hannie,” you mewled, bringing a hand to stroke his hair. 

Jeonghan hummed against your pussy, his fingertips parting your lips trailing down to find your entrance, pushing his middle and pointer finger inside you. His tongue made a circular motion around your swollen clit.

You pushed the upper half of your body on your elbow, keeping your other hand on the back of his head. You saw Joshua realigning himself to Jeonghan’s ass, biting his bottom lip as he pushed his cock inside Jeonghan.

“So tight,” Joshua sighed, rutting his hips against Jeonghan’s ass in a steady motion.

Jeonghan moaned on your pussy, the tip of his nose nudging against you right before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking at it lightly.

“Hannie,” you cried out, your voice pathetic as your body started to ease into pleasure. “Yes, yes, please, just like that.”

Joshua kept fucking Jeonghan’s ass with deep strokes, opening his eyes to find your face. Your features showed the pleasure you were getting from Jeonghan—your eyebrows were drawn inward, your glossy lips parted as you let out the sweetest moans.

You stroke Jeonghan’s head as he ate you out. He hummed with you every time you moaned. He pressed his tongue against your throbbing clit, flicking it from side to side swiftly, expertly. Your eyes glazed over, your mind going blank as you inched closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” Joshua gritted, his thrusts turning sloppy as your moans just pushed him closer to his release. “I’m gonna cum,” he mumbled.

Jeonghan pulled his fingers out of you, taking his hard cock and he started rolling his hand over his cockhead. A muffled and urgent moan came out of him, but he kept eating your pussy out, tugging your clit with his lips as his tongue flicked from side to side, pushing you closer to the edge.

As soon as Joshua saw Jeonghan start stroking himself, he allowed himself to go slightly faster, still fucking him with deep thrusts. Joshua moaned, tilting his head back, trying to keep going despite the growing need to cum.

“Fuck, Hannie, Hannie…” you mewled, mouth opening wide as you sucked in air, and released it with long, sweet moans. You came hard, limbs trembling pathetically as the waves of your orgasm washed over you.

Jeonghan moaned too, the motion of his hand speeding up slightly right before it went sloppy, and slowed down as spurts of cum dripped from his slit, and landed on his fingers.

Joshua came last, his hips buckling slightly before pushing them slowly, deeply. His whole body went taut with pleasure, filling the condom up with tired and raw moans. “Fuck,” he said breathlessly.

Jeonghan pulled his head up from your pussy, he was breathing hard too. He raised his gaze at you, his wet lips stretching in a lazy smile as he sighed. “Good morning, baby.”

Joshua was panting, but that didn’t stop him from smiling broadly. “Sorry for waking you up,” he said.

You rubbed the back of your finger beneath your eye, gathering a tear. “I don’t mind you waking me up like this,” you replied sweetly, sighing a smile too.

“See,” Jeonghan said. “I told you.”

Joshua rolled his eyes, brushing off the confused expression on your face with a motion of his head. “No, you didn’t.”

Jeonghan glanced back at Joshua, exchanging a look before Jeonghan nodded wordlessly. Joshua pulled his hips back, and Jeonghan grunted slightly at the loss.

“I’ll take a shower,” Joshua said tiredly.

“Yeah, you do that,” Jeonghan mumbled, finding a tissue to clean his hand. He looked at you, crawling on the bed to slump down next to you.

“Coming, bunny?” Joshua asked you.

“I think I’ll stay with Hannie for a bit,” you replied, giving him a small smile. Joshua matched your expression, nodding before heading to the bathroom.

You eased back on the bed, turning over on your side to prop your head on your elbow. “How are you, babe?”

Jeonghan was lying face down on the bed, but he rose slightly upon hearing your question. “Tired,” he muttered.

You brought a hand to stroke his back. “Don’t you wanna clean up before resting?”

“I think—” he began, but quickly faded, pressing his face onto the bed in defeat. “I can’t.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“I can’t feel my legs,” he muttered, turning his head slightly so you saw more from the half of his face. And then, with a sigh, he said: “Your boyfriend’s cock is massive.”

“Don’t you mean your boyfriend?” you teased, giggling.

Jeonghan gave you a lazy smile, sighing as he continued hiding the side of his face on the bedcover. “Our boyfriend.”

Your heart fluttered. You leaned in, touching his lips with your own. “Come on, baby,” you whispered sweetly. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”

“No,” Jeonghan hummed, pushing the tip of his nose against yours before pressing a kiss on your lips. “I don’t wanna. Especially if you talk to me that way.”

You chuckled, but eased into his embrace, sighing blissfully as his arms encircled you. Jeonghan kissed you lazily, debating whether he wanted to fall asleep like this. But he eventually gave in. He groaned, his pout easing into a smile when he wasn’t able to keep his act. “Okay. Let’s go clean up, princess,” he replied just as sweetly.  

You pushed yourself up from the bed, Jeonghan following you with a lazy gait as you made it to the bathroom. Joshua was standing beneath the shower stream, water running down his naked body as he pushed his wet hair back.

“Isn’t the space too tight for the three of us?” Jeonghan muttered as you grabbed his hand, pulling him to stand in the shower.

“No, it’s not,” you said.

Joshua giggled, the sound making you lift your gaze to him. His smile was full of joy, his eyes turning into half moons. “We’ll have to look for a place with a bigger shower,” he said with ease, adding a shrug before turning around and exiting the shower.

“Oh, about that,” Jeonghan muttered, his gaze flitting to the end of the bathroom where Joshua was wrapping a towel around his waist.

You glanced at him, confused. “What?” Then your gaze flickered to Joshua, who was suddenly very busy combing his hair with his fingers—despite it being wet.

Joshua cleared his throat. “Can we talk about this over breakfast?” Joshua suggested knowingly. His eyebrows knitted together in that annoyingly cute way that made you almost forget that he wanted to change the subject. “I’m starving.”

“Talk about what?” You narrowed your eyes. “You two really need to stop keeping me out of your conversations.”

Jeonghan giggled at your expression. “You were asleep, dummy,” he teased, yelping when you swatted his shoulder lightly.

Joshua smiled, leaning against the sink. “Should we go to that place you like, baby?” he asked you, clearly wanting to change the subject.

You grinned. “Sure,” you said, drawing out the word, then narrowed your eyes at both of them. “But I will find out what you were talking about.”

“Over breakfast!” Joshua shot back, grinning before he turned away, and walked out of the bathroom.

Jeonghan laughed, but it was off. As you rinsed your hair, you looked at him. There was something in the way he avoided looking at you.

Your amusement faded. “Hey,” you whispered.

“Yes?”

“You’re okay, babe?” you asked, stepping out of the stream so he could finish washing.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he blinked away, dismissively. “Let’s talk about it over breakfast, yeah?”

“Fine,” you nodded. Breakfast.

The warm sunlight stretched over the terrace tables, the crisp morning air nipping at the back of your neck. The scent of fresh coffee and banana pancakes drifted around you, weaving through the space between you and your boyfriends.

It wasn’t the first time you, Joshua, and Jeonghan had sat here.

You cut a piece of your pancake, lifting it with your fork before taking a bite. The familiar taste melted on your tongue, just as good as always.

“Is it good?” Joshua asked, sipping from his coffee mug, watching you with a knowing smirk.

You nodded, already cutting another piece to offer him. He accepted it without hesitation, humming in approval as he chewed.

Jeonghan was pushing the food on his plate absentmindedly, his eyes flicking between you and Joshua, before finally letting out a sigh.

“So…” Jeonghan started, his eyes shifty. “About the apartment thing.”

Joshua leaned back on the chair, arms crossed. “Yes. The apartment thing,” his smirk softened, tilting his head to one side. “Have you made up your mind about it?”

Jeonghan looked hesitant—just as he did the last time you brought the subject up. His fingers tightened around the ear of his coffee mug.

You reached out for his hand, commanding his sweet brown eyes to you. “Talk to me.”

He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to move in together,” he said carefully. “I do. I really do.”

Joshua frowned. “Then what’s the problem?”

Jeonghan shot him a look. “It’s just… isn’t it a little soon?” His tone was soft. “What if it messes things up?”

The confusion on Joshua’s face flickered into something more understanding.

“Jeonghan,” you said gently, your hand tightening around his. “You want this.”

“I do,” he admitted with a frustrated sigh. “But what if we rush it and—”

“Things are changing for the better,” you said. “That doesn’t mean they will fall apart.”

“Look,” Joshua exhaled. “We don’t have to sign a lease today. But we should at least look.” 

Jeonghan hesitated, looking at you and then at Joshua. The tension of his shoulders eased. “Okay,” he said. “We look.”

The elevator ride was quiet, save for the soft hum of the mechanical pull. You glanced at Joshua, and then Jeonghan, your fingers wrapping tightly around the strap of your bag. Out of nervousness, you dropped your gaze to your phone screen, looking at the options you had from the realtor.

Joshua stood beside you, practically buzzing with excitement, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black denim jeans. “I have a good feeling about this one,” he murmured, leaning over you.

You knew why he told you that. Jeonghan was quiet, his eyes fixed on the numbers above the elevator doors. He hadn’t said much since breakfast, only nervously exchanging some words as you arrived.

The doors slid open, revealing a bright, airy apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows. Sunlight spilled across the marble floors, making the space feel impossibly open.

“Oh,” you breathed as you stepped inside first. “I love this.”

Joshua let out a hum as he followed you. “Okay, yeah,” he mumbled. “I see why you like this,” he agreed, turning to Jeonghan. “What do you think?”

Jeonghan was the one to step in last, his gaze sweeping over the empty space. His hands were buried into the pocket of his hoodie, shoulder stiff as he gave you and Joshua a shrug. “It’s nice,” he said carefully.

Your ears perked at the hesitation. “But…?”

He blinked slowly at you. “Let’s look around, okay?”

You nodded, trying to ignore his reluctance and just let him be. You walked around the place, the living room had high ceilings, and faux marble floors that gleamed under the sunlight pouring in from the windows.

The space felt wide, and you started imagining where to put the furniture that you were thinking of buying, the furniture that you also owned. The kitchen was sleek, and functional with sandy brown and marble countertops. A wide island sat in the center, perfect for the mornings or late-night conversations.

Joshua leaned on the wide countertop, looking around with awe. “I like this place,” he mumbled, nodding in approval.

Jeonghan was standing by the window quietly, his gaze fixed on the city beyond.

You moved past them, eager to see the bedrooms. The first was smaller, probably meant for guests, but you imagined it to be your new office. There was a second room, which you imagined could fit a bed in it, maybe your bed, since Jeonghan’s mattress was even larger than yours.

Then came the master bedroom, spacious, with a balcony that overlooked the quiet streets below. It had an en-suite bathroom, which was ad hoc for your plans. A deep soaking tub sat beneath another large window, and a glass-enclosed rainfall shower took up one side of the space. A dual sink vanity that made the space remind you of a hotel room.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, turning to see Joshua leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a knowing smile.

But when you glanced past him at Jeonghan, he wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t seeing the twinkle in your eye. He stood near the hallway, chewing at his bottom lip.

“Hannie, hey,” you approached him, his gaze found yours, as though snapping him from a train of thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just happening too fast,” he whispered. “We haven’t even been us for that long.”

Joshua scoffed, shrugging as he crossed his arms over his chest. “This isn’t a marriage proposal, Jeonghan. It’s just an apartment.”

You rolled your eyes, shooting him a look but before you could say anything, Jeonghan replied. “But it’s not just an apartment, is it?” His voice was gentle, but you could see the confusion in his eyes. “It’s a home—for all three of us.”

Your heart stammered. “Do you want that?” you asked gently.

Jeonghan hesitated, then sighed. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He looked around the space again, his eyes lingering on the sunlight pouring in through the windows. “I just don’t want to screw this up.”

Joshua’s gaze softened. “We won’t, Hannie,” he said.

You reached out to take his hand. “And if something happens, we’ll figure it out, yes?”

Jeonghan huffed a quiet laugh, rolling his eyes. “Yes. We will.”

Joshua smiled, throwing an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders as he dragged him across the master bedroom, rambling about taking a look at the balcony where he would be able to smoke freely.

You watched them with a smile, trailing behind and already picturing the whole apartment as something more than just a place to live. Home.

Some days later, you had to start packing. It was especially hard since you were also in the middle of finishing the draft of your book. Juggling both felt nearly impossible—though it became slightly more manageable with Joshua’s help. He had eagerly offered to start packing, but you knew all too well that his definition of packing wasn’t exactly something you could trust.

Cardboard boxes were stacked in piles, pushed against the empty wall of your studio office. You stood still for a moment, letting your gaze sweep over the space that had been your fortress through long days and even longer nights of hard work. A lump formed in your throat as you remembered when this place had been nothing more than a desk, a chair, and your computer.

It had grown with you, evolved alongside you. And now, you were taking a leap into something new.

From the next room, the soft murmur of a familiar voice blended with the lazy strumming of an acoustic guitar. If you listened closely, you could hear Joshua singing—his voice dipping into quiet repetition whenever he fumbled a chord. But to you, even his mistakes sounded perfect. You didn’t even realize you had moved until you found yourself pulled toward the sound, drifting from the studio into the bedroom.

Joshua sat at the foot of the bed, one leg curled beside him, the guitar propped against his thigh. His head tilted downward, strands of hair slipping over his eyes, concealing his face as he concentrated on his fingers. The light caught on the smooth wood of the guitar as his hands worked through the chords again, more sure this time, more fluid.

A small smile tugged at his lips, unseen by you, as he focused on the music.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watched, letting the warmth of the moment settle in your chest. There was something so grounding about having him here, about the way his presence softened the edges of your world.

The guitar’s strings vibrated beneath his fingertips as he hummed through the final words of the verse he had crafted, his voice settling into the quiet. A flicker of realization crossed his face when he landed on the right chord, and his lips parted slightly as if he were savoring the sound.

And then, finally, he lifted his gaze to you. His eyes held that glint you loved—the one that made something deep inside you feel light and steady all at once.

“Hi handsome,” you mumbled, even though you lived together, you felt like you had not spoken to him in some hours while you packed the stuff from the studio.

“Hey beautiful,” he pressed his lips into a sweet smile, one that turned his beautiful eyes into half moons.

“I thought you were packing the kitchen stuff,” you said, moving from the doorframe.

“I finished ages ago,” he emphasized with a light chuckle, leaving the guitar aside as you approached him. “You were too preoccupied in there, so I didn’t interrupt you,” he took your hand when you were within reach.

You smiled in response, looking at the soft features of his face. “What were you doing?” you mumbled as he pressed his lips to your knuckles.

“I was composing something, I think it came out alright,” he replied, turning briefly to hit the stop record button on the screen of his phone.

“I liked the sound of that,” you complimented, liking that his hands found you as soon as you came closer to him.

“Yeah?” he smirked slowly. “Wanna give it a try?”

You matched his smile, but yours had a tint of shyness. “Sure.”

“Come here,” he pulled you to his lap, smoothly turning you over before you sat on the bed, right on the space between his thighs. “I’ll teach you.”

“This is an improper way to teach, Professor Hong,” you giggled, pressing your back against his chest.

“What can I say, you really have a knack for getting the most improper side out of me, Ms. Hong,” he frowned with faux chide, but looked cute at the same time; his eyebrows drawn inward, his mouth pressed into a line.

“Really, because I could say exactly the same of you,” you giggled, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger.

He blinked into a smile that took over his entire face. “Oh that’s not true,” he replied with a light giggle as well. “You were already very indecent when I met you,” he joked, knowing the reaction his comment would bring out of you.

“Indecent?!” you huffed, widening your eyes in indignation.

He laughed, tilting his head back as the sweet sound bubbled out of his mouth. “Yes, very,” he emphasized, pressing his large hands on your tummy to bring you even closer to him. “You are a very naughty girl.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to mask the smile that eventually broke in the features of your face. “Get to work, Professor Hong.”

“Right away, Ms. Hong,” he mumbled happily, grabbing the guitar and placing it on your thigh.

Keeping one hand on the body of the guitar, he guided your hand on the neck. “Place your index finger here,” he commanded with a soft tone, and you followed, pressing your finger down on the first fret, just where he instructed.

You would have paid more attention to his following instructions if it were not for the closeness of his mouth to your ear. When he spoke, his sweet voice made you want to melt into it.

“Now, again, you move your middle finger here,” he continued, simultaneously instructing you to strum the strings as you move your fingers on each fret, slowly piecing the song he composed.

“Like this?” you mumbled faintly, sneaking a swift look at his face.

“Just like that,” he nodded, not really noticing that you were now caught up in him, the features of his face, his beautiful hands guiding you through his song, and the warmth of his body sitting closely behind you.

“Sorry,” you smiled meekly when you accidentally missed one note.

“No, it’s alright,” he quickly put in. “You’re doing great, baby.”

But in fact, you were not doing great. You were clumsy, distracted; and you feared it showed in the movement of your fingers. “I’m terrible at this,” you said.

“No one is good at the first time,” he replied sweetly. “Let’s try one more time, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded, biting your lip in concentration to get every note he had taught you. It was merely a ten-second bit from the song you had heard him practice, but difficult enough for you.

“Slowly, that’s right, baby,” he mumbled, and you knew from his tone alone that he was smiling. “See? I told you, you’re great!”

“I think I got it,” you said, pausing to look at him.

“You sure do,” he replied in praise, his eyes glinting again with that emotion you had noticed when you walked into the room.

You could no longer resist it, you closed the space between your mouth and his, pressing a quick kiss and backed away meekly.

“Kissing your professor is quite indecent on your part, miss,” he smirked.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” you sighed.

“Mmm, you just started something that you won’t be able to finish,” he mumbled, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. “Kiss me,” he instructed with the same soft tone, but the firmness of his command was different, it ignited a part deep within you.

You hummed as his lips locked with yours, kissing you hungrily. His tongue outlined your bottom lip as his hand slid from your cheek to your nape, his fingers curling around your hair. “I love you,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss briefly.

“I love you,” you replied, feeling the moment slow down.

Joshua rested his forehead on yours, letting out a soft sigh that caressed your lips. “I think our practice session is over,” he said, grinning as he moved the guitar from your lap and placed it on the floor.

“What are you planning to do?” you grinned as well, knowing that look on his face.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled in between kisses, his tone aloof and his kiss sloppy. “How about we just make out and improvise from there?”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you replied, equally aloof.

Then, he lay down on the bed, his arms securing you by the waist pulling you on top.  A sigh from his part was muffled in your mouth when he felt your chest pressed to his, he could feel that you wore nothing beneath that zipper hoodie, and that just added to the anticipation building up inside him.

You brought a hand to his cheek, cupping it as you started dominating the kiss. Joshua remained with his eyes closed through it, letting you capture his lips with your own with gentle, but messy movements. The sounds were mixed with his sighs and yours, the wet sounds of your lips in his, and a few tiny moans from you as you deepened the kiss.

His hands roved on your back, trailing down to the small of your back, where they rested momentarily. Another small moan from your part was muffled in his mouth, and that was the only confirmation he needed. He travelled further down, his hands fitting perfectly on your round ass to give it a gentle squeeze.

You moved your knees to each side of his hips, your hands travelling from his face to his broad shoulders, feeling his lean body over his white t-shirt. He swallowed back a tiny moan when you touched his bulging pecs in small motions, up and down while his hands moved from your ass to touch your thighs over your sweats.

Slowly, both your clothes and his became an obstacle between you, since you needed to feel his skin on yours, to see his beautiful body, to explore it inch by inch without his clothes on. But you continued kissing him fervently, sloppily moving your lips on his, enjoying his faint moans muffled by your mouth.

You paused for air, and he also breathed shakily as the tip of your nose bumped with his, drawing a lazy smile from him. Ignoring how flustered you were already, and how hot your face had grown, you reached out for his hands, which were parked on your hips and inching away from his face to look into his eyes, you placed them on your chest. You batted your eyelashes at him sheepishly, moaning sweetly when his hands cupped your tits over your hoodie, his thumbs effortlessly finding your pebbled nipples.

Instinctively, you pressed your crotch against his, grinding your hips with slow motions to relieve the tingling sensation bothering you. A sweet sound came out of you, sparking something in his eyes, as he kneaded your tits, pressing your nipples with his thumbs.

His gaze focused on your hand when you fumbled with the zipper of your hoodie, following it as it came apart, and slowly displayed your naked chest to him. You sat back on him, enjoying the way his big eyes darkened when you slid the hoodie off your shoulders and put it aside.

You leaned forward again, pressing your bare chest on him, making him release a sigh upon feeling your breasts, even if it were over his t-shirt. You grabbed his face, closing the space between his lips and yours with a tender kiss, slow at first, feeling your pulse quicken.

He tensed when you slipped your hands under the white t-shirt he wore, trying to get rid of it. “No, stop,” he murmured, his voice faint but it brought you to a halt in a split-second.

You froze, looking at the features of his face to understand why he was stopping you from undressing. “You want to do it?” you asked, your tone giving away that you were confused.

“Slow down, baby,” he said, showing you a small smile. “There’s no need to rush. Enjoy this.”

“But I want to make you feel good,” you mumbled, stammering over your words as your face burned with shame.

“I know, and I love that about you,” he said, his smile growing into a more reassuring one. “But let me be in charge, alright?”

“Alright,” you conceded, matching his sweet smile.

Then, he smoothly rolled over, taking your body with him, and placing your back against the mattress. You encircled his broad shoulders with your arms, just as he leaned over to kiss your face, pressing his lips on the apple of your cheek with a soft sigh on his part. He made a trail of kisses from there to the shell of your ear, bringing a tiny laugh out of you when his breath fanned over a sensitive area on your skin.

“I love you,” he murmured against your ear, smiling when your body tensed and your skin prickled.

“And I love you, Josh,” you replied sweetly, your eyes glinting with joy and adoration for him when he pulled back to see the tiny bumps in your skin.

“You’re so sensitive,” he said, bending to kiss you on the plain of your chest, his wet lips only making it worse for you because each kiss had you squirming under him.

Before you could even agree with him, his lips reached one of your pebbled nipples, pressing soft kisses that slowly evolved into grazing of teeth, bringing a small moan out of you. You held onto him, one hand on his nape, the other around his bicep, fingers digging into the hard muscle.

Discovering how responsive you were being, he slid the tip of his tongue on your areola, barely caressing it but getting your skin to prickle again. You released a short gasp as your thighs tensed up, and as he switched to do the same on your other nipple, your core was already fluttering, arousal sticking to your panties.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep the sounds to yourself. But then he started suckling on your sensitive nipple, the sounds he was making loud and wet, drool trickling on your skin. You gasped, the tension building up between your legs was irritating. “Joshua,” you called.

“Mm?” he replied, not bothering to lift his head or to stop kissing your tits.

“I need more,” you sighed, sneaking your hands beneath his t-shirt again, but not in an attempt to undress him, this time you just wanted to feel his skin, to give him but a slight taste of what you felt.

Joshua shuddered upon your fingernails grazing his back. “More?” he egged you on, but he made no motion to follow your requests, he just simply moved his kisses to the curve of your neck, where he placed another wet kiss on your sensitive skin.

“Uh-huh,” you mewled, closing your eyes to savor the euphoric feeling of his lips worshiping you. You slid your hands on his back, dragging the white t-shirt along. “Ne-need you.”

He let out a sigh, backing away slightly so you could peel the t-shirt off his torso. His hair got ruffled in the process which you brushed back with both hands as he leaned over you again. Joshua took your hands, lacing your fingers with his and placing them above your head.

“Easy, baby,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses on your bottom lip.

You sighed shakily. He is in charge, you reminded yourself. “Sorry,” you said meekly, letting him retake control, letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

“It’s okay,” he drawled, pressing his chest against yours, smiling when you let out a mewling sound again when your sensitive nipples brushed against his skin. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little needy, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched.

“I’ll take care of you tonight, bunny, don’t worry,” he murmured, his tone sweet but falling into the sultry one he always used in the bedroom. 

“Okay,” you replied, swallowing hard when he showed you a slight smirk.

Then Joshua lowered his hips between your parted legs, pressing your hands down the pillows as he supported himself with his elbows too. He dove for another kiss, his lips locking in yours hungrily, letting out a moan in your mouth and reminding you how much he loved kissing you.

It became asphyxiating: to be under the full weight of his body, the grip of his hands on you, kissing you relentlessly. But you loved every second of it, the taste of his kiss, the smell of the cologne impregnated on his clothes, his skin. You loved everything about him, it drove you crazy.

Thoughtlessly, you pushed your hips up despite the cage he had made with his body. The friction you got from rubbing yourself on the crotch of his jeans was delicious, so you did it again, grinding your hips with small motions.

“Brat,” he whispered reproachfully, but enjoyment flashed on the features of his face as you drew your eyebrows in, mouth parting to let out a whiny moan.

“God, Josh,” you gasped, closing your eyes, delighting over the much-desired friction you got from rubbing yourself on his crotch, slowly feeling his cock stir beneath his jeans.

“Are you gonna come like this, bunny?” he cooed, and you understood from his tone that he was teasing you.

“Uh-huh,” you parted your mouth, letting out a series of moans as pleasure bloomed inside you, finding a pace to roll your hips beneath him to reach your climax. You found his hard cock with your crotch, mewling as you rubbed yourself on him, desperation rising inside you as you rolled your hips harder.

You heard a light chuckle coming from him, and then he did something unexpected. He started grinding his cock on your pussy, rolling his hips expertly against yours in the same motion he always did when he was inside you.

“Fuck, Joshua, yes, yes,” you mewled pathetically, taking in one deep breath before you came undone beneath his hard body.

Just by your moans alone, he could tell that you had reached your release. The sounds coming out of you were sweet and airy, the most angelic moans he had ever heard from anyone, they drove him insane. He swore that the sounds alone were so arousing that he could get hard just from hearing you.

Joshua stared at your face riddled by pleasure as you came down from your high, smiling softly at him when you opened your eyes. “Felt good?” he asked, feeling his own arousal begin to bother him, his cock stirring beneath the hard fabric of his jeans hindering him.

“Yeah,” you let out an airy laugh, thinking of how pathetic you may have sounded, or looked. “I’m sorry?” you raised your eyebrows innocently.  

“Are you going to behave now?” he asked with a sweet tone, releasing his grip from your hands to brush some rebellious strands of hair away from your face.

“Yes,” you replied, nodding your head obediently, but concealing a smile by biting your lower lip.

“Good,” he whispered, leaning to press a kiss on the tip of your nose. He sat back on his haunches, his fingers swiftly releasing the belt buckle and with one motion he pulled the belt from all the loops of his jeans, setting it aside on the bed, next to you. “I’ll use that on you if you don’t.”

A lazy smirk appeared on his face when he saw a fascination flash in your eyes. “I’ll behave,” you cooed sweetly. But you could not help but plan to retaliate somehow.

You jolted slightly when your phone started buzzing on the bedside table, the loud noise from it making you snap your hand to grab it. “Sorry,” you told Joshua, sneaking a look at his face and then at the screen, which was displaying Jeonghan’s name on it.

It was on instinct, almost, you swiped your finger on the green button, pressing the phone to your cheek. “Hi, babe,” you replied, the words flying out of your mouth before you even processed that Joshua was looking at you.

“Hey, princess,” Jeonghan’s voice was loud, you could swear that Joshua heard it too. “Are you busy? I’m on my way to yours, maybe we could-,”

“We’re in the middle of something here,” Joshua’s voice cut through Jeonghan’s and from his tone, you could hear the playfulness in it, but also a slight hint of annoyance.

You saw his hand reaching out to grab the phone and you passed it to him, thinking that he was going to say something else, but instead, he pressed the red button, hanging Jeonghan up and tossed the phone aside, heedlessly.

“So much for behaving,” he said darkly.

“I’m sorry,” you replied shamefully, but giggling when he just gave you a playful eye roll. “I just answered the phone without thinking!”

“Yeah, and now you’re going to pay for it,” the corner of his lips curved slightly.

You watched him sit back on his haunches one more time, but this time it was to get rid of his dark denim jeans. You fought the urge to undress him yourself, but noticing the glint in your eye, his playful smirk grew broader on his face. He climbed down from the bed, getting rid of all his clothes quite unceremoniously, robbing you of the pleasure of both taking his clothes off and enjoying the view of him peeling them item by item.

“Stay there,” he instructed when you made a motion to follow him by sitting up on the bed.

“But I want–,” you sighed in frustration before you could tell him that you wanted to please him. “Fine,” you huffed.

Joshua smiled at your mini tantrum, pressing one knee and then the other on the bed to climb on it. Your eyes followed him, every movement of his body made his toned muscles shift, his strong thighs calling your attention, quite nearly robbing it completely. Your gaze trailed to his legs, then up his body, glorious in his nakedness. And yours completely.

“Like what you see?” he asked playfully, following your gaze down his body. He was growing stronger, and it showed in the bulk of his biceps, his chest bulging. The muscles of his abdomen were soft but well-defined, the same as the ones of his quads.

“Yeah, I do. A lot,” you replied, feeling as you did the first time you saw him naked. Your eyes locked with his, and your heart gave a leap when you saw the endearment showing in his eyes.

He showed you a smirk in response, biting back some playful quip as he grabbed the belt from your side. You had forgotten about it, confusion forming on the features of your face when he took the belt by both ends, straightening it out in front of you.

“Give me your wrists,” he commanded, motioning to your hands resting between your legs.

Before you decided on putting up a fight and making it more difficult for him to dom you, a sigh came out of you—thrilled over the fact that he was giving you something you did not know you missed. You lifted your hands, extending your arms out to him.

“Good girl,” he said, but grabbing your wrists with one large hand. He looped his belt around your wrists, once, twice, coiling the leather until it was firmly binding your hands together. “Lie down.”

You lay down, keeping your eyes on him as he crawled on top of you, taking your bound hands by his belt and forcing them above your head. Joshua slotted his hips between your parted thighs, making you whine slightly when you could not feel him freely because you still had your sweats on.

“You’re going to be good for me now, baby?” he asked, his tone honeyed but he knew just how enticing it was to you. 

“Yeah,” you replied, not hiding the excitement in your demeanor, looking at him with wide eyes, flushing as he smirked at you once again.

Joshua pressed his lips against yours, kissing you tenderly. “We have until Jeonghan gets here to have fun,” he said.

“He’s going to be mad that we’re doing this without him,” you murmured against his lips, squirming slightly when his hand moved to cup your chin, his fingers squeezing your cheeks.

“I don’t care,” he replied, giving you another kiss, this one was harder, hungrier. “Let him be mad all he wants when he gets here. You’re mine for now.”

You emitted a short giggle, the sound sweet and shaky with anticipation. “What are you going to do?”

He looked lost for a second. “I thought of improvising but,” he gasped, moving back so he could take a look at the watch neatly sitting around his wrist. “We have at least some good twenty minutes until Jeonghan gets here.”

“Seems like you know his routine well,” you pointed impishly.

“Just like I know yours, baby,” he shrugged with ease, leaning over you once more, placing his hands above your shoulders. “What’s your point?” he mumbled, sealing his lips with yours with sweet kisses.

“No points, I just think it’s cute,” you replied in kind, laughing then his kisses became more repetitive, quick. He trailed down from your lips to your jawline, making your skin prickle again when he reached your neck.

“Cute, huh?” he breathed, kissing the dent between your collarbones.

“I think you two are cute,” you added, closing your eyes as his lips reached your chest.

Joshua took a moment to let your words sink in. The thing in his heart had settled deeply, making its home there. It was obvious to you that both Jeonghan and Joshua had unspoken feelings for each other. You could see it in their eyes when they looked at each other—when they talked about each other.

The room fell silent. The only noises Joshua could hear were the sweet noises you made when you sighed, and the noises he made when he planted a new kiss on your skin. For a moment, it felt to Joshua that this could be his forever—being with you, loving you and Jeonghan. The idea sent a rush to his brain, making him sigh against your tummy.

Before he could take his time torturing you with kisses, he went crazy, grabbing the waistband of your sweats to pull them down your legs. Loving the way you always looked flustered whenever he undressed you. No matter how many times he’s done it in the past, you always got that look on your face.

The moment seemed to slow down, as he glanced at your eyes and then at your body, smiling because he couldn’t keep the emotions to himself. He was happy and in love.

There was no need to talk—he felt like all he could do was stare lovingly at your body, as he wondered what on earth he did to get you. He leaned over you, placing a kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose, making you laugh sweetly. He rushed and kissed your smile too, before he continued with his trail of kisses down your body.

He hooked his fingers around the waistband of the blue boyshorts you were wearing—he loved these ones, how they looked on you. He felt like the more comfortable you were, the cuter you looked. His lips curved in a smile, and you mirrored it knowingly.

“You know I like these,” he mumbled, pulling the boyshorts down your legs.

You nodded wordlessly, pushing your hips up slightly so he could finish taking your clothes off. “Can I keep my socks on?” you asked with a tiny tone, seeing his hand circle your ankle.

Joshua looked back to your face—his heart dropping the moment he saw you looking up innocently at him. He felt like he could melt right there and then. “Of course, baby,” he replied, returning back to the trail of kisses he was marking down your body.

“Josh,” you sighed, hands struggling to grab his head as he kissed your lower tummy.

He smiled against your skin, kissing the spot below your belly button, enjoying the way your skin prickled. You moaned softly as he sucked a lovebite into your skin, tensing up under his body but letting him do more anyway. His lips trailed down, reaching your mound and sucking another red spot there.

Your mouth parted, mind torn between wanting to get more hickeys sucked into your body and also wanting him to just eat you out already. You let out a silent moan, glancing down your body as he sucked your inner thighs, parting them for him with his hands.

“Fuck,” you whispered, closing your eyes again. You moved your bound hands, trying to reach him and hold him there—between your legs.

But Joshua raised his dark eyes, finding out what you were about to do. “Uh-huh,” he mumbled softly, arching his studded eyebrow. “Hands where I left them, princess.”

You swallowed, nodding as you left your hands above your head. You tried to ignore the way that name sounded on his lips, reminding you that Jeonghan was on his way to your apartment.

Joshua leaned down, pressing a kiss on your pussy lips without looking away from your eyes. “Be good,” he whispered, his eyes gathering every detail of your expression.

Then he pulled out his tongue, letting it hang from his lower lip lightly before sliding it against your clit. You tensed up under him, looking at him as his tongue slid on your swollen clit from side to side, slowly rousing every nerve ending.

Joshua stopped, pulling back his head from your pussy and pushing himself on his arms. You whined instantly at the loss of his tongue, pleasuring you, and making him giggle. “Wait a second,” he said with a soft tone.

He reached out to grab the pillow beside yours. Your tummy fluttered, knowing exactly what he would do with the pillow—you raised your knees from the bed, leaving only the soles of your feet planted on the covers.

“Good girl,” he praised as he placed the pillow right below your butt, putting some support for his head. And that’s how you knew, Joshua wanted to take his time eating your pussy out.

Placing his elbows on the pillow, he grabbed your thighs, keeping them parted for him as he bowed his head over your pussy. You watched him pull out his tongue again, dragging it against your parted folds slowly.

The feeling drew out a moan from you, making you close your eyes at the sweet pleasure you got from his tongue swirling around your swollen clit in slow, lazy motions. His eyes raised, finding yours.

Joshua felt a special kind of rush whenever he made eye contact as he ate you out. You looked trapped in a daze like you wanted to speak but never could. Only sweet, gentle moans came out of you, signaling him to keep going. Your body went rigid, as though focusing on not feeling anything else but the motions of his tongue on your pussy.

You could feel the tension coiling, but it happened slowly. Joshua kept his tongue relaxed, only moving it in slow, light motions on your clit—he did this knowing that it would drive you crazy.

“Joshua,” you called out, closing your eyes as the tension grew. “Faster, please.”

He didn’t reply, in fact, you knew that there would be nothing you could say to him that would make him stop licking your clit. He just kept going, his tongue moving without applying real pleasure on your clit, only moving it gently.

You whined, gasping for air as the pleasure only built more and more, but it never got you there. “Please, Joshua, give me more,” you said, your breathing so unsteady already that you thought you sounded pathetic.

Joshua was amused, in fact, when you opened your eyes, you could see a ghost of a smile on his face. But he gave you what you wanted—more. The movement of his tongue switched, licking your clit up and down, applying more pressure to it but not enough to make you cum.

You complained again, hips buckling slightly as you moved your knees up. Joshua groaned, using his hands to circle your thighs to keep you steady for him. Then he did something you didn’t expect, he gave you more.

It was as though your bad attitude was rewarded instantly. That never meant anything good. But he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them gently against your walls as he continued licking your pussy up and down.

You moaned lewdly, wanting to melt into the bed. The pleasure was so great that you couldn’t even register that Joshua had smiled, the breath from his sigh caressing your skin lightly. You were too lost—anticipating your release, and loving the way his tongue felt on you.

But it wasn’t enough. You whined again, this time it sounded even more pathetic. “Josh, please,” you said, your breathing so ragged now that it almost sounded like you were sobbing. “Please, make me cum.”

But he didn’t give in, not this time. The massaging of his fingers only made it worse, contributing to the anticipation but not taking you higher.

“Stop edging me, please,” you sobbed now, your hands struggling against their bond. “Please, please, Josh, let me cum.”

Then, he removed his fingers, pulling back from your pussy completely, hands and mouth. You let out a pathetic cry, watching him wipe his chin with the back of his mouth, looking at you as though he had just accomplished a mission.

Riled up, you buckled your hips at him. “Please, Josh,” you said but made no move to free your wrists from his belt.

Joshua laughed, loving the way your face looked as you begged—eyebrows drawn inward, pouty lips and everything. He sat back on his knees, and taking another good look at you, he smiled. “Turn over for me,” he said, patting the pillow below your but. “And put your tummy here,” he indicated.

You did what he said, feeling a rush of warmth invade you, knowing what was about to come. Using your elbows as support, you placed your lower tummy on the pillow, thus leaving your hips lifted.

You wanted to turn to see him, to see what he was about to do. But he was quick, grabbing your hips with his hands, placing you perfectly on the pillow before raising a hand to give you a firm spank. You yelped against the bedcovers and then moaned, relishing the sweet sting of his hand on you.

Then you felt the bed shift, the bed creaking and dipping as Joshua placed each of his knees at your sides. You fought the urge to turn and look at him, but then you were planting your elbows on the bed, giving yourself some support to turn your head over your shoulder.

Joshua had that look in his eyes. A desperate hunger burned in his dark eyes, heavy with lust as his gaze lingered on your body—as though debating what to do with you first.

The hand that was on your waist circled back to grab the side of your butt, while his other hand rolled over his cock as he aligned it with your entrance. You bit your lip and arched your back, using the pillow below you for support.

Joshua smiled lightly, sighing out in delight as the tip of his cock touched your sopping pussy. “That’s it,” he whispered, pushing his hips slowly so his cock slipped inside you. “That’s my good slut.”

You moaned, the sound coming out whiny as Joshua sunk inside your walls so deep your eyes started to water. Pushing your face against the mattress, you muffled out your moans as he dragged his cock out of you, then pushed it back in with full, deep thrusts.

Joshua sighed, the view of his cock disappearing inside you drove him crazy. Letting his head drop back, he started thrusting at a steady pace, trying to keep his self-control. But another look at your body made him moan deeply—the way your ass looked as he pushed inside you, the line of your beautiful back stretching before him.

And those moans. It was all just too much. He leaned over, placing his elbows at your sides and continued fucking you, slowly rolling his hips, pushing his cock inside your throbbing pussy.

“Josh,” you whimpered. The feeling you got from his cock massaging your walls was so good that you had to suppress your cries on your bed covers.

“Like that?” Joshua mumbled, smiling when all you could do was give him small nods. He bowed his head to kiss your shoulder, drawing another muffled cry from you.

Joshua kissed your cheek before his thrusts picked up the pace, fucking you deeply. Turning his head, he spotted Jeonghan standing in the doorway, leaning on one side as he crossed his arms. Joshua showed him a tired smile, triumphant that his plan had worked—and that you had completely forgotten about it.

Your moans became airy until you couldn’t voice out the pleasure consuming you. “God, Joshua…” you called out, still pressing your face on the bedcovers. “It feels so good…”

“Yeah?” he sighed, pushing his cock inside you a little faster. He planted another kiss on your shoulder, deciding to ignore Jeonghan for a little while. “I imagine that this is how I get you pregnant.”

A mewling sound slipped past your lips, buckling your hips up for him. “God, yes, Josh,” you cried. “Please, please…”

“Yeah, you want that?” he gasped, the sound of your cries driving him a little crazy. “Are you cumming for me, baby?”

“No,” you mumbled, struggling against the belt restraining your hands. “Please—not yet,” you whined. 

Joshua noticed, using one hand to undo the belt around your wrists, freeing you. “You can cum, baby. I’m not stopping,” he mumbled sweetly.

You practically obeyed, pleasure blooming inside you in waves, spreading to your every limb, and dancing beneath your skin.

“Just like that,” Joshua muttered, fitful breaths coming out of him as he felt your walls clamping down around his cock. But he kept pushing inside you, reaching so deep that you felt like you could cum again.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” Joshua sighed, hearing the noises coming out of your dripping pussy. He gritted his teeth, sighing on your neck as his vision blurred. 

Then he slipped a hand beneath your neck, circling it to pull your head up. You gasped and opened your eyes—only to find Jeonghan watching you, his eyes trained on both you and Joshua.

A broken whimper spilled out of you, a rush sizzling on your cheeks as the act of being watched just added more to your pleasure. Jeonghan traced with his eyes every detail, as though he wanted to touch, to feel you and Joshua but settled for just watching. He took in a deep breath, leaning the side of his head on the doorway, but you could tell—he ached to join you and Joshua.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” Joshua whispered, his breathing becoming more ragged as he felt closer to his release. He glanced at Jeonghan. “Do you want Jeonghan to make you a mommy too?”

A broken squeal came out of you. “Yes, god, yes,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you felt your orgasm subsiding, leaving you with gentle waves. “P-please.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he planted a kiss on your cheek, his thrusts becoming sloppy as ropes of cum spilled out of him. A half groan escaped him as he closed his eyes, delirious with the idea of getting you pregnant. “We’ll make you a mommy.”

Joshua pushed his hips against your ass with lazy thrusts, finishing inside you with a blissful sigh. Sneaking a glance up at Jeonghan, he smiled upon finding his lust-filled eyes. Joshua kissed the side of your head, panting slightly as you seemed to be dissolved into pure pleasure.

“Are you ready for Hannie, baby?” he asked, watching your face, outlining every feature of it.

“Yeah,” you sighed tiredly but still wanted more.

Joshua smiled at you, placing a ghostly kiss on one corner of your mouth before pulling back. He rolled over on the bed, slumping his body next to you on the mattress just as Jeonghan approached the foot of the bed.

You turned over carefully, discarding the pillow beneath you and watching Jeonghan as he got rid of his long-sleeved t-shirt with one motion, letting it fall onto the floor. “Hi, baby,” he said to you, as though he hadn’t just talked to you over the phone half an hour ago.

“Hi, babe,” you sighed tiredly, stretching your arms out to him.

He giggled. “Wait,” he whispered shyly, throwing a glance at Joshua who was also watching as pieces of clothing hit the floor. “Hi, you.”

Joshua showed him a light smile, his heart fluttering nervously. “Hey,” he whispered, swallowing hard as he watched his best friend—his boyfriend, climbing up the bed, fully naked and ready for you. His pretty cock standing fully hard, and leaking precum.

“Mmn, you kept these on,” Jeonghan pointed, running a finger around the hem of one of your socks.

You smiled, skin prickling as his finger traced a shapeless pattern on your leg. The sight made Jeonghan smile. “Look at you,” he sighed, sending you an endearing look. “So responsive. As if you hadn’t just been fucked.”

You gave him a fucked out smile, which only puzzled Jeonghan because you looked so sweet to him. His fingertips made a trail from your ankle to your knee, before patting it lightly. You knew what he meant by that, and you obliged, parting your legs for him.

“Good girl,” he whispered, pushing his dark hair back with one hand. That was when you noticed that he was wearing one of your scrunchies around his wrist—and nothing else. You sighed embarrassingly loud, looking at his beautiful body, wholly naked in between your thighs.

He stood on his knees before you, looking at you with so much love that your heart felt squeezed. Jeonghan placed his hands on each side of your shoulders, bending over to place a swift kiss on your lips. “Want more, baby?” he cooed, touching the tip of your nose with his. “Hm?”

“Yeah,” you replied breathily, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I want you now.”

Jeonghan gave you a sweet smile. “I’ll give you more, baby,” he whispered, pushing his lips against yours in a slow, passionate kiss.

You gasped into his lips, feeling him slot his hips between your parted legs, his thighs touching the back of yours as the tip of his cock nudged your entrance, pushing inside you without any kind of foreplay from his part.

But you loved it. It sent a shudder down your spine to know that you were being shared, used by them—taking turns trying to get you pregnant.

He gave you a couple of sloppy thrusts, groaning slightly when he felt your warmth, and Joshua’s cum dripping out of it. But Jeonghan raised his sweet brown eyes at you, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered dreamily.

You would have replied to his compliment, but your heart stammered, making you choke back a whimper. “H-hannie,” you mumbled, caressing his nape with your fingers.

“Yeah?” he panted, his hot breath touching your chin.

Jeonghan smiled when your gaze flitted to his lips, then back to his eyes. Your heart thumping so hard inside your chest that you could only return the smile shyly. “I love you,” you breathed.

He giggled shyly, pressing a kiss on your lips. “And I love you,” he replied, looking at you with so much endearment you forgot where you were.

But then he pulled his body back, grabbing your hips with his hands as he started thrusting his cock inside you at a steady pace. He sent a glance where your bodies joined—only for a moan to spill from his lips upon the sight of his cock disappearing inside you, Joshua’s cum spilling out of you.

The change in position made you moan. Jeonghan’s cock massaged a certain spot inside you that made you a little crazy. You closed your eyes briefly, enjoying the rush of pleasure invading your body again.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan sighed, tilting his head back slightly. “You… you are a dream, princess. You feel so good, I swear.”

Joshua watched you and Jeonghan silently, getting aroused by the sounds, the sweet way you moaned every time Jeonghan pushed his cock inside you. Not only that, but the enjoyment and the pleasure showing on Jeonghan’s face were also so alluring that Joshua felt his mouth parting.

Jeonghan clutched your hips, fingers digging into your skin to keep you steady for his incessant thrusts. Each drag of his cock inside you was so deep and so deliriously good you felt his whole length, filling you up inch by inch.

You moaned, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of his cock massaging your walls. “God, Hannie…” you mewled pathetically.

The sound only egged him on. Jeonghan smirked, swallowing hard at the image of you. Your legs spread your fucked out eyes—always so eager for more. “You’re always so good, princess,” he whispered.

Joshua nodded, pushing himself to lay on his side to cup your cheek with his large hand. “Such a good slut, aren’t you baby?”

“Uh-huh,” you mewled, nodding your head with small motions.

Joshua’s lips curved in a tiny smile, leaning to press a long kiss on your lips. Then, he glanced at your eyes before dipping his head down your chest, where he planted small wet kisses around your nipple before teasing it softly with his tongue.

You cried out, unable to remove your gaze from Jeonghan’s face as he watched Joshua tease your nipple, popping it into his mouth with a low hum. Joshua started to suck your nipple with his lips, his tongue pressing on the pebbled bud gently, bringing out more moans from you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—,” you gasped, your fingers curling around the bedcovers. “I’m gonna—,” You pushed your head back on the soft pillows, mouth dropping open as you let out a mewling cry.

Jeonghan watched you cum, a tired smile appearing on his face as tears spilled from your eyes. The sweet sounds coming from you made his head spin—you calling out his name between moans and fitful breaths, pushed him closer to his release.

But then you did something he wasn’t ready for. “Hannie—,” you mewled, panting with the aftershocks of your release. “Hannie, fill me up, please.”

His pink lips parted, a grunt spilling out of them, his hips buckled, but he kept himself in control. “You want my cum, pretty?” he asked, enjoying the crazed look in your eyes.

“Yes, yes, please,” you gasped, clutching harder at the bedsheets as Joshua pulled his mouth from your tits, laying on his side to resort to playing with them with one hand. He smirked at you, at the needy side of you that he loved so much.

Jeonghan released a tired breath, his thrusts slowing down as his hand returned to your lower tummy, deciding to play your game. “You’ll look even prettier when you’re pregnant,” he drawled, swallowing hard before his thrusts became sloppy, fucking his cum deep inside you.

Joshua sat up, so now he was face to face with Jeonghan. Bringing a hand to cup Jeonghan’s chin, Joshua planted a long kiss on Jeonghan’s lips, and you watched as they both moaned into each other’s mouths, their tongues touching slowly, passionately.

Jeonghan smiled, removing the hand that was parked on your lower tummy to push Joshua’s shoulder. “You idiot,” he chuckled. “We had a dinner reservation an hour ago,” he said, but there was no bite in his words.

“And I’m an idiot because…” Joshua frowned, turning over his phone that he had forgotten on his nightstand. 

“I was on my way to pick you both up,” he sighed tiredly. “But you two decided to have fun without me… again.”

Joshua laughed at the slightly annoyed look on Jeonghan’s face. “We still have time,” he said, but his tone was off. “I think…”

You had no strength to chime into the conversation you felt like you were too gone in your post-sex bliss that you didn’t want to chime in. Jeonghan rolled his eyes when Joshua laughed, and in perfect sync, they looked back at you.

“Come on, princess. Let’s get you cleaned up,” Joshua said after noticing that you were inches away from drifting off to sleep.

“No,” you whined, trying to turn your face onto the pillow.

“No complaints, bunny,” Jeonghan sighed, pulling out of you gently and making you whimper.

“So, where exactly did you say you wanted to go?” you asked Jeonghan curiously, watching him as he looked on the floor for his black t-shirt, his hair dripping wet.

He whisked the t-shirt from the floor, turning it over to put it on, one arm after the other. “I wanted us to get dinner at a steakhouse, then I thought maybe… you could use some fun and relaxation, so I thought of going to a karaoke, us three.”

Joshua snorted loudly as he was putting on a pair of clean grey boxers. “Karaoke?” he glanced at Jeonghan. “It’s been ages since we’ve gone to one.”

You looked at them from where you sat at the foot of your bed, wrapped up in a bathrobe as you towel-dried your hair. You were eager to spend time away from moving boxes and thinking about work. And more eager still, to have fun with Jeonghan and Joshua. “I want to go,” you said meekly.

Jeonghan stopped in his tracks. “We can still go, princess,” he said gently, looking at Joshua. “We could have something quick to eat and then go.”

Joshua placed his hands on his hips, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that would be fun,” he said, smiling at you. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” you squealed, jumping to your feet. You removed the bathrobe and started to look for something cute to wear.

Joshua and Jeonghan stood in silent awe at you for one second as you paced in front of them wholly naked. “Maybe we should get her pregnant,” Jeonghan joked, giggling at the flustered look you shot at him.

“Yeah, maybe when we get back,” Joshua followed, also smiling at the way you responded to that.

They both dressed in what you could only describe as a perfect depiction of their personalities. Jeonghan wore a pair of wide-leg khakis that were sprayed with a faux paint pattern, a black t-shirt, and a black leather bomber jacket. While Joshua wore a pair of deep blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a gray denim jacket.

You decided to wear a casual outfit too, but one that made you feel confident. You had enough just by noticing the stolen glances you got from Jeonghan and Joshua—who were waiting for you in the living room.

“Ready,” you smiled, spreading your hands at your sides.

The karaoke lounge was tucked away in a very lively side of the street, neon signs reflecting on the sides of the buildings as you strolled down an alleyway, with Jeonghan’s hand linked with your own, Joshua walking at your other side, hands deep in his pockets.

Jeonghan led you to a door, which looked ominous from the outside. But inside, the place was buzzing with energy, groups of drunken people laughing, muffled singing seeping through the walls and doors of private rooms, and the faint scent of tobacco filtering in the air.

It was the first time the three of you were visiting there. But for Jeonghan and Joshua, it was certainly not the first, and things had been… different. The lines between their friendship and something more were something that Jeonghan only questioned back then, because the tension was there, but unspoken.

The hostess led you down a dimly lit hallway, stopping in front of a sleek black door. The second you stepped inside, warmth wrapped around you, the glow of the LED lights running along the ceiling, a red U-shaped couch outlining the walls, and a massive screen displaying a song selection menu.

Jeonghan flopped onto the couch, grabbing the remote control. “I call the first song.”

“You always go first,” Joshua said, dropping into the seat beside him and patting the small space between them.

You followed suit, sitting in between them.

“That’s because I have the voice of an angel,” he shot back, chuckling impishly.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Joshua snorted.

Jeonghan ignored that, letting out a mysterious chuckle when he found a song he was looking for. Then he looked at you, then with a knowing smile looked at Jeonghan before pressing play.

An intro of a cheesy love song filled the room. Joshua was the first to groan. “Oh my god, really?”

Jeonghan grinned mischievously. “I said I picked the song!”

Joshua laughed but grabbed another mic anyway. Jeonghan started singing, completely into the song, belting out every note dramatically while you laughed. Joshua stood from the couch, matching Jeonghan’s dramatic way of singing as he twirled around the small space, fully committed to his performance.

Jeonghan smiled triumphantly. By the second chorus, he chucked another mic in your hand, offering you to sing along, and you did—laughing, off-key, blushing but not caring. When the song ended, Joshua collapsed onto the couch, smiling and panting like he’d just run a marathon.

Jeonghan, who was sipping his drink, raised an eyebrow. “And I’m the smoker, jeez,” he chuckled.

Joshua laughed. “Shut up.”

You nudged at Jeonghan with your elbow. “Sing one song, Hannie,” you said gently.

Jeonghan blinked slowly, a small smile forming on his lips before he sighed dramatically. “Alright,” he muttered, taking the mic again and scrolling through the song list. “I’ll do one. But you’re next, princess.”

You giggled. “Sure.”

The opening notes of a ballad started playing through the speakers. Unlike the prior performance, this song was softer. And Jeonghan’s voice fit perfectly. His voice carried through the space and filled your chest like a warm cup of milk.

Jeonghan stood up, eyes on the screen to avoid feeling nervous. But you couldn’t help yourself, keeping your gaze on him as his voice unravelled through the notes of the song.

Joshua rested his head on your shoulder, noticing the love in your eyes as you watched Jeonghan. “He’s showing off,” Joshua whispered.

You nodded in agreement, watching as Jeonghan danced gently in front of you, fully immersed in the song now. There was something about it, the purple neon lights painting his face as he closed his eyes, extending a hand in front of him as though dedicating the song to you, and Joshua.

But by the time the last note faded, your heart faltered. And Joshua could see it in the way your gaze softened, and he felt a heaviness coil around his own heart.

Jeonghan turned around, a meek smile on his face as he sat down beside you. “Told you I could sing,” he muttered to you.

“Remind me why you’re not a rockstar?” you teased, smiling when Joshua slapped your thigh lightly.

But it was obvious—Jeonghan didn’t need a stage. Even at his job, he remained behind the scenes. He never needed a stage, just the right audience.

Joshua nudged your arm. “Alright, your turn, baby.” 

You exhaled nervously, shaking off the way your heartbeat rushed all the way to your tummy. “Fine,” you said, grabbing the mic.

And the night went on like that, singing, dancing, drinking, and laughing. And by the time you were ready to head out of the karaoke room, you intertwined hands with Jeonghan again, warmth filling your chest when Joshua threw an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders.

You giggled uncontrollably as you stumbled out of the elevator, slightly—very—tipsy.

Jeonghan snorted, catching your arm before you could sway too far. “Careful, princess.”

Joshua let out a soft sigh, steadying you with a firm hand on your waist. “Alright, let’s get you to bed, baby,” he murmured, his voice laced with fond amusement.

Jeonghan pushed the apartment door open, holding it for Joshua—who, without hesitation, scooped you up effortlessly in his arms. You squealed, your head spinning as he carried you bridal style into the bedroom.

“You can’t hold your liquor, bunny,” Joshua said, easing your body on the mattress.

He took your heels off, one by one and let them drop on the floor. Jeonghan was entering the bedroom, a glass of water in hand and a bottle of ibuprofen in the other, which he left on your nightstand.

Then, Jeonghan started removing his bomber jacket, and leaving it on the armchair in one corner of the bedroom, just as Joshua looked for your set of sleepwear in your drawer.

“I got it,” you sighed, sitting up as you noticed that Joshua was about to help you undress.

You got ready for bed, putting on your pajama shorts and shirt, to then head over to the bathroom to remove your makeup and brush your teeth. As you were coming back, you paused for a second in the doorframe, looking at your boyfriends as they each took a side of your large bed.

Jeonghan was holding his phone, propping it on his tummy with one hand as the other was safely tucked beneath his head. And Joshua was also looking at his phone, except that he was sitting back against the headboard of the bed.

Joshua lowered his phone, noticing you first. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Nothing,” you replied softly. You approached the bed, climbing up on it to slump down between them, face-first against your pillow. “I’m so happy,” you hummed.

Joshua and Jeonghan exchanged a look, both putting their phones away so they could join you. They snuggled up to your body as you slowly turned over, taking a deep breath.

“We’re glad, baby,” Jeonghan murmured.

You cupped Jeonghan’s cheek, turning to him to place a soft kiss on his lips. He returned the kiss, just as sweetly, his lips lingering on yours for a second before pressing them on yours again. Then, you turned to Joshua, your hand flat on his chest as Joshua met you halfway in a tender kiss.

“Thank you for tonight,” you told them both, blinking sleepily.

“Sleep well, baby,” Jeonghan said as you turned on your side, in the usual position you took, to be cuddled by both of them.

As you slept, Jeonghan placed a light hand on your waist, hearing the soft hum you let out as you nestled blissfully in the warmth, and coziness of being surrounded by them. Joshua smiled at the sight before him, you and Jeonghan.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jeonghan whispered, careful so he wouldn’t break your peace.

“Yes?” Joshua breathed.

Jeonghan was looking at your face, so his gaze was hidden away from Joshua, impossible to read. But everything was in the calm and quiet demeanor he kept, as he gathered his words. “I’ll move in with you.”

Joshua stopped breathing for a second. “Why the sudden change?” he asked curiously, not hiding the rush of excitement he felt.

“I want this—to be with you both,” Jeonghan raised his eyes, locking them with Joshua’s. “I’m just afraid I’ll…”

There was a long moment of silence. Joshua felt his heart pulsating in his ears, making it hard for him to concentrate. He knew that look in Jeonghan’s eye, whenever he struggled with his words it was because he had something important to say. Something very close to his heart.

Jeonghan inhaled deeply, letting his breath through his nose. “I don’t want this to end too soon, and not because we took it too fast,” he said with an air of sadness in it.

“I get it,” Joshua replied. “It’s okay to be scared, I feel it too,” he said quietly. “But if you want this as much as we do, then there is nothing to fear. We’ll work it out. We’ll take it day by day.”

Jeonghan stared at Joshua’s eyes. Finding his answer, he nodded. “That sounds reasonable,” he admitted shyly.

Joshua smiled lightly. His hand found your hip and thus met Jeonghan’s hand on your waist. Jeonghan looked down at his hand parked next to Joshua’s. Slowly, Jeonghan lifted a pinky finger, and Joshua did the same, linking it with Jeonghan’s. As they met each other’s eyes, Jeonghan knew.

This was home. 

✮ author's note: hello everyone!

sorry for taking so long to post this, and thank you to everyone who waited!! this chapter was so fun to write, and i loved every second of it. i'll come back with chapter eight, because this story is far from over. i love my boys so much

anyway,

✧ STAY TUNED FOR PART EIGHT !! ✧

toodles!

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

© TO HANNIEWEEN — I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[justcallmedom31]

Ig it's Storytime with Dom now @not-so-local-lesbian lol Where do I begin. Hm. I really don't know how to start but basically, two bandits broke into my family home last week, and now i'm recovering from trauma 👍 Now for the long story. For context first. My grandparents built a home here where I live, that's in the Philippines. Locals call it, the Engineer's House, for the sole fact that my late grandfather was a mechanical engineer, who designed and built the home himself before he passed away 8 years ago. There's swimming pool, a pond, a farm, and a lot of mango trees. 80 Mango Trees to be exact. Quite proud of them heh. I am set to inherit the land in a couple years or so. I forgot how large the lot is exactly, but it's enough to fit a couple basketball courts within heh. Last week, two bandits broke into it. Thank gosh, my family and I weren't there at the time, as we were in Quezon City, hanging out with my two aunts from Australia who were visiting. How did we know the broke in? They were caught by my mother's CCTV she installed in the living room. At 2:28 AM, my mother was notified by the motion sensor, to which thankfully she was awake at the time, talking with one of my aunts. At first she thought it was a spider, but upon closer look. There was a man going down the stairs. She originally thought it was ghost, but looked closer to find that they were indeed, bandits. Two Bandits. their faces were covered. So, my mum panicked, and my aunt. my other aunt woke up to the panics, and also panicked herself. I woke up around the time they realized two people broke in, and rushed to call our relatives who lived nearby. Thankfully, we managed to wake up one of my aunts who lived in the same barangay (that's sorta like a village ig). Her husband went in with a flashlight which managed to scare away the bandits. and boy, was it a mess inside. And yeah, that's what happened. My family had to pack to drive all the way there to investigate what happened and clean up the mess inside. While we drove, which took 6 hours, the police were notified of the incident and investigated the crime. I won't go into too much detail from what happened when we arrived, but from what I could tell of investigating it myself, the two bandits were spying on the home from the mango trees outside. around late night, they made their way in over the fence, and up to the third floor balcony, through which is where they broke in. they searched through everything on the second floor. Only thing they could find that looked valuable was my late great-grandmother's bag of old coins and a few bags. When my relatives scared em, the only thing they managed to steal was two. fucking. bags. TWO. BAGS. OUT OF EVERYTHING IN THE HOUSE. OUT OF THE VASES AND TECH. THEY ONLY MANAGED TO STEAL TWO FUCKING BAGS. I'M NOT BLOODY JOKINGG what's even funnier, is when they were inside our home, they fucking drank water in the kitchen and even popped out some of the ice, and wine. Oh yeah, and they also saw the cctv and managed to take it out, but THEY DROPPED IT OUTSIDE THE HOME. ALONG WITH THE BAG OF COINS LIKE WHAT?? HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE?? The coins date back all the way to 1972, so i understand they can't really be used... BUT LIKE, THEY STILL HAVE VALUE??? WHY WWOULD YOU DROP SO MUCH ON THE GROUND?? WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DROP EVERYTHING??? It's a good thing at least, that they dropped them. BUT WHYYY???? AND ALSO GET THIS. THEY LEFT THEIR FUCKING TOOLS INSIDE. EVERYTHING. AND THEIR FINGERPRINTS. AND SANDALS. AND EVEN HOODIES. THEY'RE SO STUPID LMAOO So, yeah, there's my story. it was really traumatizing knowing i could have been there that day. and. i could have died. Because they had weapons when they broke in. the weapons were discovered to have been hidden under the bed. But yeah anyways, theres storytime for today. i'm going to be fine too dw, i can walk it off :PP

[checkeredflagggs]

Mr. and Mrs. ??

pairing: liam lawson x singer!reader

summary: What to do when you get married in Vegas, wake up alone with only your half of the marriage certificate? Wonder what your new last name is and sing about it at the F1 75 Live show.

a/n:what? is? happening? in? Redbull? like seriously?? I can’t even…

a/n2: some affectionate swearing is included

Masterlist | Taglist

y/n

liked by user, user, charles_leclerc, and 5,823,193 others

y/n: Hey mama, I made it! From my little garage concerts to playing in the Sphere! It was an amazing experience and I’d do it again in a heartbeat — Thank you Las Vegas!

view all comments

user1: what a concert!

↳user2: was it as amazing as it looks?

↳user1: it was so much better

user3: you looked ethereal in those lights

↳user4: i mean she always does — a face card that never declines

↳user3: oh but she shone brighter than the Strip tonight

user5: ok but why is a vroom vroom boy in my girl’s likes?

↳user6: Right? That’s what I want to know

↳charles_leclerc: talent recognizes talent?

↳user7: we stan a king that knows a good thing when he hears it

user8: jealous of literally everyone in Vegas this weekend — Max winning WDC, Mercedes dominating, AND y/n’s final show in the Sphere?!?

↳user9: as someone who was at both?? Immaculate vibes. 100+/10, would definitely do it again

↳user8: you have no idea how jealous I am…

user10: ok but what are the chances we get an f1 x y/n crossover???

↳user11: just because they’re all in Vegas doesn’t mean they have to interact??

↳user10: but wouldn’t you like to see that?

↳user11: …ok yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily gonna happen

↳user12: we could only hope…

y/n

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 4,920,293 others

y/n: celebrating my last night here and I met some guys that can party almost as well as I can!

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user13: girl that is 4x World Champion Max Verstappen and runner up Lando Norris

↳y/n: Mr. Drink Man and Mr. Music Man!

↳landonorris: MS MUSIC

↳user14: oh I love it when y/n drunk posts

↳user13: she’s hilarious 😂

maxverstappen1: Ms. Music! Where are you!

↳y/n: IM AT THE BAR. WHERE ARE YOU

↳user15: why are you typing in all caps?

↳y/n: ITS VERY LOUF IM HERR

↳user16: You’re typing in all caps because it’s loud in the bar?

↳y/n: YED

charles_leclerc: Hou’re lartying wiyh us? Where? I WANNA MERT YOU

↳y/n: HI IM AT THE BAR

↳charles_leclerc: IM AT THE BAR. YOU ARNT AT THE BAE

↳y/n: SHHH A CUTE BOY SAID I WAS PWETY

↳charles_leclerc: BUT I WAMTRD TP MEET YOI

↳user17: this is the best thing to come from Vegas this year and I’m a max fan 😂😂

y/n has posted a story, charles_leclerc has posted a story, yukitsunoda0511 has posted a story

[DRINKD EITH MT NEE FRIENDS][@.y/n WHERR SRE YOI???][I leave him alone for just a minute…]

user18 replied are your new friends f1 drivers??

user20 replied loving the energy here

user21 replied I know you go crazy in Vegas but I think you’re going a little far…

yourbff replied bitch take a drink for me!

↳y/n oh you know it!

landonorris replied WHERR ARE YOU BESTIE

↳y/n drinks!!

↳landonorris YES BUT WHERR

pierregasly replied calmar where are you?

↳charles_leclerc IM LOIKING FOR MY NEW BEDTFRUEND

↳pierregasly you have a new best friend?

↳charles_leclerc YES HRR NANE IS Y/N AND SHED THE VERY BEDT

maxverstappen1 replied WHAY DID YOI DO WITH Y/N

↳charles_leclerc IM LOOLING FOR HER NOW

↳maxverstappen1 YOI LODT HER??

↳charles_leclerc NOO

↳charles_leclerc MAYBE

user22 replied how do you lose a woman??

user23 replied man how much have you had to drink??

user24 replied who is that??

user25 replied is…is that Liam?? And a girl??

user26 replied now you’re even shorter!!

user27 replied man I’m so jealous right now…

user28 replied what I wouldn’t give to be in Vegas right now…

Private Messages, y/n and yourbff

Private Messages, Yuki and Liam

(Translations — Idiot, How are you so stupid, idiot, lol)

Private Messages, the Grid (Unserious)

y/n

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, user, and 4,824,029 others

y/n: had some thoughts, sang some tunes…surprise coming soon!

view all comments

user29: oh my god NOBODY TALK TO ME

user30: this was NOT on my bingo card for the year…

↳user31: it absolutely was not

yourbff: is this about you know who??

↳y/n: shut up?

↳user32: does y/n have a boy now?? liked by yourbff

user33: Surprise? What surprise? What’s happening??

↳user34: 🤞🤞🤞 it’s new music

user35: ok but who is the muse? y/n has talked about how she only writes when she’s been inspired…

↳user36: is it a breakup? has she been seeing someone?

↳user37: not to our knowledge?

charles_leclerc: New music? Without me?

↳user38: Stop. Wait. What? When? Who? Why?

↳y/n: Vegas

↳charles_leclerc: Vegas!

↳user39: Not the pairing or situation I was expecting to come from Vegas…

↳y/n: haha

↳charles_leclerc: …

↳user39: wait what?? What is that?? What’s happening??

y/n

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user, and 3,924,103 others

y/n: my new single “Who Are You” is out now!

view all comments

user40: oh my god yes!!

↳user41: I’ve been praying for days like this..

↳user40: big mood!

user42: best birthday present ever!!

user43: ok but this song? slaps? like the best ever?

↳user44: I wanna know who it’s about!

↳user49: Same! The yearning…the confusion…the wishfulness of it…

↳user50: ok but what if that’s the point?

↳user51: what do you mean?

↳user50: maybe y/n had a mysterious guy and she doesn’t actually know who it was?

user52: love this!

↳user53: gonna be the song of the year for real

y/n

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landornorris, and 4,822,193 others

y/n: I’m happy to announce I’ll be performing at the F1 75 Live show this February!

view all comments

user54: oh my god yes!!

↳user55: IM SO EXCITED

user56: this is the best news ever!

↳user57: oh the fomo…

charles_leclerc: it’ll be good to see you again!

↳y/n: yes it will!

↳user58: still don’t really understand how this friendship was born…

maxverstappen1: this might actually be interesting…

↳y/n: well hello to you too Mr. Drink Man!

↳maxverstappen1: Ms. Music!

↳user59: this is even more unexpected…

liamlawson30: wait a minute…

DM’s, Liam and y/n

liamlawson30

liked by yukitsunoda0511, lorgansargeant, pierregasly and 492,920 others

liamlawson30: days with you 💙

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user60: soft launching? in this economy?

user61: what in the world?

yukitsunoda0511: What? Something you want to share with the class?

↳logansargeant: Seriously? Not even a heads up in the gc?

↳liamlawson30: shockingly you aren’t part of my relationship?

↳user62: relationship confirmation!

oscarpiastri: is this what i think it is?

↳landonorris: i think it is!

↳user63: ok but what do you guys know??

↳liamlawson30: generally, nothing

↳oscarpiastri: bold words for someone in your position…

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user and 1,824,240 others

tagged: liamlawson30

f1gossip: Liam is letting out the juicy gossip today — when asked about what races he was looking forward to this year, he mentioned how he liked Vegas although it probably wasn’t going to be as exciting as last year.

view all comments

user64: ok but does anyone remember yuki’s story from last year?

↳user65: No? Why would we?

↳user64: he posted that he lost someone while at Vegas!

↳user65: So you think he lost Liam? And what?

↳user64: well what is Vegas really know for?

↳user65: Do you seriously think he got married in Vegas?

user66: I’m gonna go with the very mundane reason — max won his WDC last year in Vegas…

↳user67: same thoughts here…

user68: idk I think I’m with user64…Liam had the look of a man in love…

↳user69: oh I see the delulu is strong this season…

↳user70: ok but you’re the one who thinks Ferrari is capable of having a perfect strategy?

liamlawson30

liked by y/n, yukitsunoda0511, logansargeant, and 1,284,592 others

tagged: y/n

liamlawson30: a little late but here’s to a honeymoon with you 🥂 💍

view all comments

user71: HONEYMOON?!??

↳user72: What is the Sebastian Vettal is this???

y/n: better late than never!

↳logansargeant: hi! I’m Logan and I’m one of Liam’s best friends. Where did you come from?

↳liamlawson30: go bother her on your own post?

↳liamlawson30: and y/n…better with you than anyone else 💙 liked by y/n

user73: Liam? Is? Romantic?

↳yukitsunoda0511: since when??

↳user74: that’s what we’re trying to figure out!?!

user75: silly season is starting early again this year…

↳user76: this better not be like last years’ silly season — my heart can’t take it..

user77: ok but how did HE pull HER?? liked by yukitsunoda0511, logansargeant

↳user78: asking the real questions here…

y/n

liked by liamlawson30, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 6,273,193 others

tagged: liamlawson30

y/n: all wife’d up! (And we both go down 🥵)

view all comments

user79: I don’t think either pr team is gonna like that caption…

↳user80: who cares about the caption — look at those photos…

liamlawson30: babe really?

↳y/n: 🥵🥵🥵🤤🤤🤤

↳user81: oh these 2 are gonna be my new favorites…

user82: can Liam fight? Like can he fight?

↳logansargeant: no

↳liamlawson30: I can and I will liked by y/n

↳y/n: that’s hot

charles_leclerc: your mysterious Vegas girl is y/n????

↳y/n: awww he told you about me?

↳alex_albon: i mean we did learn about you…

↳logansargeant: some of you did!

↳alex_albon: oops 🙊

user83: did you guys really get married in Vegas??

↳y/n: we did! And we ended with our own half of the marriage certificate so we didn’t even know who we got married too…

↳user84: how even did you find each other?

↳liamlawson30: I saw her at the f1 show and knew she was the one… liked by y/n

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @Lilbitchfromfaraway @evie-119 @sugarfreerbr @princessesgarden @tukes @mayax2o07 @teti-menchon0604 @galaxygurlll @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[surveillancy]

Good day/night! If the request are still open, may I request something about your last fic of Shadow milk "Sweet words" ?

Basically Y/n with the same accent but this time they're singing like a whisper so not him or nobody could hear them

But Shadow milk was listening without Y/n noticing

Thank you so much! ★

"sweet melodies" - shadow milk cookie x reader

✧︎‬‪‪ ‪‪✧︎‬ ‪‪✧︎

shadow milk cookie wasn’t looking for you. not this time.

for once, he had no grand scheme, no elaborate trick to set into motion. he had simply been drifting through the spire of deceit, trailing his hands along the twisting walls, letting the shadows shift and coil in his wake. it was boredom, he told himself, just boredom that led him to your door.

and then he heard it.

soft. fragile. a breath of melody so delicate into the air that it almost slipped past him.

he stilled.

you were singing.

oh. ohhh.

his grip on his staff tightened, his fingers curling against its surface. a slow, wicked grin stretched across his lips as he pressed himself against the cold frame of the door, tilting his head just enough to drink in every note.

it was mesmerizing. you were mesmerizing.

that accent of yours, already so intoxicating, became something otherworldly in song. every syllable was dipped in honey, laced with a weight that sent shivers crawling down his spine. it was a sound that shouldn’t exist, something too lovely, too pure, too-

he swallowed hard, ignoring the way his heart clenched. no, no, he was the trickster here. the one who watched and laughed and spread chaos across the world. and yet…

here he was. entranced.

you had no idea he was listening. you must have thought yourself alone, unaware that every whispered note sank into his very soul, branding itself into him like an unforgiving flame.

he was utterly, hopelessly enthralled.

and then... your voice cut off. a moment of silence. then...

"…shadow milk cookie?"

ah. you had noticed.

for once in his long, long life, he was at a loss for words.

your eyes met his, wide with dawning horror, while his lips quirked into something smug, but... oh, his face were burning, wasn't it? his pupils had dilated, and he felt warm, too warm...

but he refused to let you see how much he had unraveled. so he did what he did best.

laughter spilled from his lips, his usual mockery, as he pushed off the wall with a slow clap. "well, well! what do we have here?" his grin was sharp, but his voice was breathless, still clinging to the remnants of your song.

"a performance so divine, and i wasn't even invited? truly, i am wounded!"

your face burned. you sputtered something that only made his grin stretch wider because, oh, there it was again, that accent. he leaned in, impossibly close, eyes glinting with something far too indulgent.

"you really should sing louder, my dear. why keep such a delightful little secret all to yourself?"

his voice dipped, teasing, knowing. "unless, of course… you were hoping i’d hear?~"

you shoved him away, flustered beyond reason, and fled before he could say another word.

but oh, it was too late. the melody was seared into his mind, looping, echoing, haunting him in the most delicious way.

and he would never let you live it down.

‪‪✧︎‬‪‪ ‪‪✧︎‬ ‪‪✧

r︎equests: open!

sorry for not posting for so long, life's been super chaotic so bare with me while i try to get back in the groove of things again (:‬

[lotuzies]

౨ৎ MY PERSONAL SHIFTING MINDSET — from a master manifestor

little disclaimer, this is what works for me because it's what i genuinely believe in. it's called a shifting journey because it's up to you to explore what works for you and what doesn't.

after years of practicing the law of assumption i could experience with my own eyes what everyone says online: reality really is malleable, i'm the one that gets to shape it.

how does that work? we all know that persisting = hardening it into a fact. when you persist on an assumption, you'll perceive it as the truth, becoming the reality. in other words — the only reality is what we decide to perceive as reality.

if you perceive yourself as weak, insecure, ugly, poor, etc, that's your reality. if you perceive yourself as kind, confident, beautiful, rich, whatever your desire might be, there you go.

and why? because we are pure consciousness. we are not our physical body.

— okay, izzy, get to the point . . .

right, so what did i do to help me manifest 10 times faster and progress a lot in my shifting journey? i detached myself from my body and from reality in general.

i understood i am simply consciousness and this body is not me, it's a reflection of what i perceive as me. i achieved a mindset that i'm not bound to this body, i'm not chained to it.

anytime i manifest something, i'm simply shifting to a reality where i have my desire. simple as that.

it's funny because because every since i was a kid i had these moments where i looked at myself in the mirror and questioned "is this really me?". i spent so much time living inside my mind that i barely acknowledged my body...

same thing when detaching from reality —

many shifters might have the feeling that when getting to their desired reality, it'll be too easy to come back, way too easy. as if a simple thought about this reality will immediately bring your consciousness here again. like there's a magnet in this reality that will pull you back any instant.

this might be because you still don't fully understand how real your desired reality is. however, i do want you to have that feeling about your cr. understand that there's no magnet here or anywhere, you're the one who decides. you're the one that chooses what to perceive. this reality is merely temporary, just as shapable as your dr.

please note that you do not NEED to detach in order to shift/manifest. it's not a mandatory requirement because there's no such thing when it comes to shifting. there's no step-by-step. (i've said this like 10 times..)

to achieve this mindset, what i did was simply affirm until it became second nature to me, like common knowledge. i implemented it into my daily life, for example, i'd take a completely random moment throughout the day and look around, really observing everything around me and understanding: this is all what i choose to perceive. i'm in control. i'm not chained to this body, i don't belong to it. i'm what i choose to be. reality is only what i decide. etc...

i became really detached to everything. it's freeing, honestly. once i started living with this belief i was less anxious, focusing more on the little things of life instead of being in constant alert mode.

i hope i could help some of you on your manifesting/shifting journey. this was probably my personal "key moment" where i finally realized something that was missing and decided to share with you all! happy shifting <3