#so much more i could say but so little time

[classyrbf]

nerd!gojo who can’t get you out of his head. Not a minute passes by where he isn’t thinking of you. So imagine breaking his little heart when he spots you swapping spit with some popular frat boy. He can’t help but feel jealous, even sad. It’s just a stupid crush, it’ll go away. Right? Wrong. Because the deal you two struck forces gojo to see you every few days for a tutoring session, where you hand over your chem work to him and he does it without hesitation like your little dog, only for you to jerk his cock and make him cum in return. Poor baby can’t help but imagine you doing the same to that jock. And he can’t help but grow curious the next time he sees you.

“Hey, um,” Gojo looks up from his desk, “who was that guy you were with earlier in the halls?” He blinked, watching at the way you typed away on your phone, your acrylics clacking against the screen, obnoxiously chewing on your gum with glossed lips.

“Hm?” You furrow your brows. “Oh! You mean that stupid jock frat boy Toji?” You sit up. “Don’t worry about him.”

“Is he…your boyfriend? I saw you two kissing…it’d be kinda weird if he was your boyfriend…you know—because—”

“Such a perv! Are you spying on me now?!” You scoff.

“No! No! I wasn’t! I’m not!” Gojo furiously shook his head. “I was…curious.” You carefully walk over towards Gojo, a soft smirk on your pretty face while you blew your gum into the shape of a bubble. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling embarrassed, stupid for even asking.

“Are you mad? Mad that I was kissing someone else?” You giggle. “I only use that idiot to get into all the school parties.” He slowly turned his head to look at you.

“But do you—”

“Do I what? Jerk him off like I do with you?” You almost laugh at the idea. No way in hell. “I’ve only sent the desperate loser nudes to get off to. But you’re special, Toru.” You push his chair slightly away from his desk that way you could straddle yourself on top of him. “You’re so much more smarter than him. So much more handsome. And you do everything I say just like the good boy you are.” Your tone is soft and sultry, just enough for Gojo to melt right into your hands. He could feel the heat creep up to his cheeks, face flushed red and throat dry as you rock your hips against his slightly. “I get it now. You were jealous, huh?” You coo. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

Gojo opens his mouth, breathing shakily, hesitating to answer. “Y-yes,” he quietly says, nodding.

A smile creeps up on your face as you get an idea. “Toru, have you ever ate pussy before?” His eyes immediately go wide, breaking eye contact with you as he looks anywhere around his dorm. “I’ll take that as a no,” you giggle. “How about we change up your reward today, hm? You get to eat me out, yeah?” Gojo sheepishly nods, shaky hands pushing his glasses back up his nose.

Minutes later, he has you sprawled out on his bed, his pretty face buried deep in your cunt as he messily eats you out, sucking, licking, slurping all over your clit and folds. His teary eyes stare up at you, addicted to the way you smile down at him and run your fingers through his soft, pillowy white hair, holding his head down. “A little more up—ah, yes, yes, right there—mmmm.” You bite down on your bottom lip, surprised at how much of a fast learner he is. In all reality, you shouldn’t be. He’s a nerd. “You like the way my pussy tastes, don’t you?” You moan softly.

Gojo nods without hesitation, his hands holding your thighs apart as he runs his tongue up and down slit before circling it over your sensitive clit. He can your juices running down his and chin and god, he’s intoxicated by your taste. Everything about you just has him wanting more and more. “You look so cute looking up at me over your glasses,” you sweetly say. “Makes me even more wet.” Gojo is trying his hardest to cum in his pants right now, but you make it so damn hard.

He lifts his head to catch air, licking your juices off of his lips. “Am I doing a good job?” He asks, bashfully.

“Mhm, it’s like you’re a natural.” You cup his face, running your thumb over his cheek. Either he’s a natural or maybe he’s just so desperate to eat your pussy that he’s doing a surprisingly good job. Whichever it was, Gojo didn’t care enough to dwell on it especially when you’re pushing his head back down. Your phone began to ring, you picked up within a few seconds. “Heyyy.” You smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be down in a few minutes—mmph! What? No, I didn’t moan you pervert! Ugh, fuck you Toji, I just need to finish my tutoring session remember?” You roll your eyes.

Gojo could feel the jealously in his chest stir again. How could you make him feel so special and so casted out at the same time. But it only fueled the want to make you cum harder. He could see you were struggling to breathe normally, trying to hold your moans in. “See you in a few. Bye!” You quickly hung up, tossing your phone aside. “Fuck! What’s gotten into—oh, fuck! Ah, mmph! Yes, yes, yes, I’m gonna cum!” You grip onto his hair, rocking your hips against his face as you came undone, lewd moans and gasps filling the room.

Gojo sat up, staring at you, his glasses slightly fogged. “Did it feel good?”

“First time eating pussy and you already made me cum? I’m shocked, honestly,” You say, slipping on your panties and pulling down your skirt. “Thanks for the orgasm, sweets, but I really gotta go. Mwah!” You blew a kiss at him, snatching your phone off of his bed.

“Going to see Toji?” He couldn’t help himself.

“Ugh, Gojo stop getting all possessive and jealous. We’re not a thing. See you in a few days for the next assignment.” You rolled your eyes, tapping away on your phone.

"Oh...okay, sorry—" you walked out his dorm room, slamming the door. And once again, he was left there completely entangled with his thoughts and feelings. None of them good.

[buckyalpine]

I LOVE what you wrote for the other ideas!!

This is kind of a dialogue prompt

Reader says something like, "do you know how many times I've imagined you fucking me on this desk?"

Maybe she's sitting on Bucky's lap while she works on a mission report or something for the team. Since Bucky hasn't seen reader in a bit, he is being needy and handsy trying to distract her. (Cue cockwarming?)

Eventually, reader slams the laptop shut and puts it away before she says that line. Bucky just like

Sweeps EVERYTHING off desk

(I'm so sorry for the long ask) much love❤️❤️

Not me answering this 2 years later but I'm weaaaak for the lip bite and this idea, immediate yes (and by immediate I mean I know I took forever, I'm so sorry, also I love you)

-

"I missed you so much baby" Bucky purred in your ear, hoisting you up by your hips to wrap your legs around his waist as soon as you stepped off the jet. You'd been gone for over a month in those 4 weeks, Bucky had been nothing but a pouty puppy, waiting for you to come back. None of the missions he went on were enough of a distraction, all he wanted was his perfect angel back in his arms and he finally had you.

"Missed you too, bub" You giggled at his scruffy beard tickling your neck as he nuzzled into your skin, carrying you off for some much needed cuddles. "I already showered and changed but I just have to finish my mission report and then I'm all yours"

You pecked the frown that made its way to his face, your thumb brushing over the crease between his brows.

"But I haven't seen you in so long" Bucky mumbled, reluctantly detouring away from your shared bedroom, taking you to the conference room instead.

"I promise I'll be quick-Bucky what are you-" You squeaked as you felt his cool arm effortlessly wrap around your waist, lifting you up so he could sit in the chair instead, plopping you onto his lap.

"I'll be patient" Bucky gave you an innocent shrug, not willing to wait for you to finish so he could spend time with you. You giggled at his clinginess, opening your laptop and pulling up the file you had to fill out; of course his patience lasts all of 10 seconds before his hands slowly slip under your shirt.

"Bucky, what are you doing"

"Nooothin'" he ignored the pointed look you gave him over your shoulder while he started to needily paw at your hips, slowly making his way up to your waist, caressing your skin. "Just feelin' you"

"I can see that" you shook your head, returning to your report, trying desperately to recall various details while your boyfriends hands continued to wander around. You could barely type out a sentence, squeaking when his cool metal fingers brushed near the top of your breast, tracing along the outline of your bra.

"Bucky"

"Y/n"

"You're distracting me"

"No, You're distracting me" He countered with another shrug, adjusting his hips, the movement causing you to shift right onto his-

"Bucky!"

"What" He gave you an innocent pout as if his thick erection wasn't about to pop out of his jeans.

"Your not so little friend there is about to stab my ass" You snoted, ignoring the way his hard length pressed against you made your stomach flip.

"Help him out then" Bucky smirked with a raise of his brow, "C'mon, it'll help me keep my hands to myself if he gets some attention"

"Bucky-

"Please baby, I promise I'll behave, just let me put it in you, I won't move, no more distractions, scouts honor"

"You're a little shit" You rolled your eyes, biting back a smirk as you got up to pull down your sweats while Bucky unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his cock out. He groaned as he swiped his thick cockhead through your folds, your slick already making a mess between your thighs.

"Looks like I wasn't the only distracted on, huh" He whispered against the shell of your head as he pressed inside, the both of you gasping at the feeling of him stretching you. He was careful to lower you slowly, inching his way until you were perfectly seated on his lap and entirely full of him. "Mpph, fuck you feel good baby, keep me nice and warm, that's it" He nipped on your earlobe while you took a moment to recompose, your tight walls fluttering against his shaft.

"I-have to finish this-" Your voice melted off into a moan, how were you going to get anything done, it had been so long since you'd felt your boyfriends fat cock absolutely rail you, making you cum and squirt till you nearly passed out, his length fucking your brains out until he was ready to fill you, his moans and grunts all just for you while his cock exploded with thick streams of cum that would drip out-

"You won't get anything done if you keep grinding on me princess" Bucky's strained, teasing voice broke you from your train of thought, not even realizing you'd been pushing your hips further back on him, trying to feel more. "You sure you gotta finish this right now?"

"Y-yes" You tried to fill out the next section, your eyes rolling back instead when Bucky adjusted himself, pushing himself till his tip kissed your cervix.

"You sure baby, I can make you feel really good"

"I-

"It's been so long angel, I need you, fuck, need you so bad" The neediness of his voice only set you off further, a gush of your arousal pooling out of you, getting the patch of curls at the base of his cock messy. It certainly wasn't missed by Bucky, his hands holding onto your hips so he could gently thrust his hips up just enough for you to feel the slightest movement. "Please baby, m'so hard, balls are fuckin' full, swear my cock's ready to burst there's so much cum for you-

All it took was you shutting your laptop for Bucky to swipe his arm and clear the table of its contents, bending you over the table while he was still deep inside you.

"Fuck, I needed this!" He growled, grabbing you hips and setting a brutal pace without warning, his head thrown back, the sounds of skin slapping on skin mixing with your moans.

"OH-FUCK-J-AMIE" You squealed feeling Bucky angle his hips to hit a spot that made a mess everywhere, your juices dripping onto his jeans, the material turning darker making him fuck you harder.

"That's it baby, make a mess on me, make a mess on my cock, give me what I've been missing so fuckin' bad"

You were nothing more than a babbling mess letting Bucky take what he needed, your legs nearly buckling from pleasure.

"Wanna see you" He pulled out and handled you with ease as he picked you up and placed you onto the table, throwing your pants off and tossing your legs over his shoulders. He didn't waste any time as he slipped in again, the both of you moaning and he started to move again, your tummy bulging each time he fucked into you. "Missed you so much angel, fuck you have no idea"

"Missed you-t-too" You hiccuped from a mixture of emotion and your building orgasm, a mix of everything making your vision blur with white spots and tears. "Missed you so much, Bucky"

"Cum for me angel, I want it, wanna feel my angel cum on my cock, please-" Bucky's pace stuttered as his cock squirted precum, his balls growing heavy, struggling to hold on, "m'gonna cum, can't hold it baby, give it to me"

"I-I-OH FUCK" You let out a silent scream as Bucky slipped his hand between your bodies, his thumb pressed onto your clit rubbing gentle circles. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his own ready to shoot from the base of his cock, the tip already dribbling-

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl, so pretty when you cum for me baby, fuck me I won't last, shit-I-FUCKK" The first burst of cum flooded and painted your walls, his cock throbbing so hard it nearly sent you into a second climax, "Hng, it's so much, mmph"

Bucky clung onto you with his face buried into your neck, shuddering as his body shook from the waves of his orgasm. He held onto you, keeping you wrapped up as he sat back on the chair, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you"

"I love you too but I need to finish" You sleepily mumbled while Bucky shook his head, carrying you off for some much needed proper cuddles.

"You can finish later after we get some dinner in you and two more orgasms and a nice long shower, maybe a massage and THEN you can-"

"You filthy animals" Tony's voice cut through Bucky's list as he stood at the conference door with an amused smirk on his face.

"Oh my god" You kept your face buried in Bucky's neck, the oversized shirt you were wearing covering up what was going on but there was no mistaking what happened with Bucky's jeans around his ankles.

"Couldn't wait 10 minutes, huh"

"Would you?" Bucky didn't even bother arguing back, raising his brow with a smug smile.

"Can't argue with that" Tony nodded with approval, walking off while Bucky cackled without an ounce of shame.

"You little shit" You stayed pressed against his neck, while Bucky carried you off to your shared bedroom, plopping you onto the bed.

"Now about those two orgasms-"

[oikarma]

how you get the girl | pt.1

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: everyone knows you as the "girl timothee chalamet made out w at coachella" until he's with kylie. so you're picking up the pieces of your heart until a certain f1 driver steps in and puts it back together

a/n: got stuck on my franco fic so here's another lando smau for you cuties <3

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liked by clubchalamet and others

deuxmoi A little birdie told us that Timothée Chalamet's Coachella hook-up might have been a little more serious than we thought...

view all 2,179 comments

user1 genuinely tweaking out

user2 no cause who is she

user3 timothee baby come home the kids miss you

user4 Like how serious are we talking deuxmoi

user5 are we sure that's him in the third pic

user6 i'd know those anal beads ANYWHERE user7 lmao she looks so fed up with him

user8 she looks so fake...

user9 she's def had work done user10 how much you wanna bet he's going to go after a kardashian next?

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liked by user1 and others

deuxmoi After months of speculation, Kylie and Timothée seem to have hard-launched.

view all 14,238 comments

user1 bop bop bop

user2 how long is this gonna last?

user3 is it just me or does she genuinely look happy with him

user4 ignore the haters they're just jealous

user5 what does clubchalamet have to say about this

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

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liked by lilyzneimer and others

yourinstagram bet you can't tell my soul is black

view all comments

lilyzneimer what's cooking, good looking?

yourinstagram do you want my audition to be the next cassie lilyzneimer no getting a new man crush would destroy you

princejoeybreeze okay emo

yourinstagram okay ego

hattiepiastri you want to practice that spiderman upside down kiss

yourinstagram might get it wrong the first time...might need to do it a few times...you know? oscarpiastri can you stop flirting with my sister hattiepiastri i like it actually oscar will you stop ruining my chance at true love

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

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liked by lando and others

f1 Some fashion icons spotted in the paddock today!

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user1 alexxx 😍

user2 who's the girl with alex is it the same one in p2?

user3 i think its the same girl she just took her blazer off prob undid her hair too cause it was super hot user4 no idea

user5 lily mi amor!

user6 icons that's RIGHT the 2nd fit be eating so hard

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liked by hattiepiastri and others

yourinstagram thanks piastris!! had so much fun being pampered

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hattiepiastri miss you x

yourinstagram get well soon baby

lilyzneimer you should come with me to osc's races more often

yourinstagram i wish...my broke ass could never

oscarpiastri You're welcome

yourinstagram !! hattiepiastri he's such a bot

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liked by mclaren, kyliejenner and others

lando went out tonight x

view 34,075 comments

user1 looking cute, lando

user2 oh he's so huggable

yourinstagram it's all "manners" until you get the chicken tenders

lando hey they were yummy okay you weren't very demure either user3 WAIT GUYS ITS THE PADDOCK GIRL user4 the coachella girl?? user5 dang she sure gets around user6 what's she doing with lando

user7 why not on lando.jpg

user8 well it's a polaroid genius

oscarpiastri How come you never use utensils when you eat with me

lando i don't need to be classy around you osc oscarpiastri Hm. user9 oscar piastri are you jealous

user10 what is kylie doing in the likes??

user11 well she and lewis are friends maybe he introduced her to lando user12 liking your man's ex's new bf(?)'s post is wild

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a/n: hellooo here's a new lando fic for you guys <3 timothee may be appearing in the future and things may get a little dramatic so i hope you enjoyed reading pt1

[hanniebaeee]

The Secret Hwang

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is pregnant

Genre: exes to lovers?? angst, fluff

Summary: Hyunjin breaks up with you after the company thinks your relationship is affecting his work. What he didn't know was that you were also gearing up to tell him something very important. But then swoops in two angels in disguise, helping you through the tough time, before it all blows over.

You’re breaking up with me?” The words left your lips before your brain could catch up.

Your heart thundered against your ribcage, like it was desperate to escape what was unfolding right then. And your boyfriend of three years, Hyunjin, looked as miserable as you felt.

Hyunjin stood in front of you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders sagging. He wouldn’t look at you - that was even worse.

“Yes,” he whispered, voice so low it barely registered. “I'm so sorry.”

You take a step closer, his words not making any sense.

“You have to? What the hell does that mean, Hyunjin? Did I…did I do something? Did I hurt you-?”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide and glossy, horrified at the mere suggestion.

“No! Of course not! You’ve never - God, Y/N, no. It’s -” His words faltered, and he looked away again, his hands shaking as they grip his hoodie strings. “It’s…they think it’s affecting me. My work.”

“Who? The company?”

“They said…” He swallowed hard, the words clearly tearing him apart as he forced them out. “They said if I don’t end this, they’ll fire you. They’ll make sure you never work in this industry again. And they’ll…ruin it all for you...”

You stared at him, utterly speechless. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“So what? You’re just going to do what they want? Throw away three years like it means nothing?”

“It’s not like that,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? By breaking me?” You laughed bitterly, even though it felt more like choking.

You knew he wanted to reach for you, to pull you close like he always did when you were upset, but he didn’t move.

“Baby, I don’t have a choice. If I don’t do this-”

You didn't stay to hear the rest. You took a step back before saying, “You’re a coward,”

Hyunjin’s head snapped up like you slapped him, but you pressed on.

“You’re letting them control you. Letting them decide what our love is worth. You’re not even fighting for me.”

Hyunjin’s face crumpled, and for a second, you thought he would reconsider. But he didn't. He just looked really sad. And lost.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Goodbye, Hyunjin.”

And then you ran. You didn’t look back. You couldn't. Because if you did, you’d fall apart completely, and you just couldn’t afford that. Not with the tiny life growing inside you.

The three months that followed were hard, no doubt. But relatively less harder than you thought, considering the fact that the boys were on tour. You didn't have to see him everyday as you taught your heart to ‘unlove’ him. If such a thing could be done.

You had decided to go ahead with your pregnancy - bad call probably, because you obviously couldn't tell anyone that your baby was Hyunjin’s. Of course. So you'd have to come up with a creative lie to cover the gap - a non-existent boyfriend or a husband?

It was exhausting.

---

You stood at the kitchen counter, staring at your ultrasound scan result. The sight of your little bean on the screen earlier had brought tears to your eyes - happy bittersweet ones. But mostly, you’d felt so terribly lonely.

Moments like that were meant to be shared, weren’t they? Your heart ached so much. So damn much. You sighed as you gazed at the little form in the black and white image.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Setting the report on the counter, you get the door. What you didn't expect was Felix’s sweet smiling face. You hadn't seen him or any of the boys since the break up (they'd left for the tour), so seeing Felix, your close friend, made you freeze.

“Lix,” you said, your voice more tired than you’d like.

He immediately pulled you into a warm hug, and you had to control that strong urge to just weep.

“Hey,” he said, squeezing you tightly. “I missed you! How have you been?”

“I'm alright. You guys had a good tour I heard,” You managed, stepping aside to let him in.

“It was good,” He said with a smile, and held up a bag. “I brought you a little something from Australia.”

“Lix, you didn’t have to -”

“Oh, hush. I do it all the time.” he said. “You look... tired…you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, waving him off.

“You want me to get his stuff? I have it packed and ready.” You said, wanting to get that out of the way as soon as possible.

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “ Is that okay?”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly, but you nodded and said, “Yeah, of course. Let me grab it.”

He followed you into the house, and as you went into the bedroom to get Hyunjin’s things, Felix walked into the kitchen to put the things he got for you away.

When you returned with the bag, however, you saw Felix in the kitchen, uncharacteristically quiet. You walked in and completely froze in the doorway.

Felix stood by the counter, holding your ultrasound result, and his usually bright expression was completely blank, his eyes glued black and white image.

“Lix…” you said softly, panic rising in your chest.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice eerily calm, “what is this?”

You didn’t answer, your hands trembling as you clutched the bag of Hyunjin’s things. Tears pricked your eyes, and you knew there was no use pretending or coming up with a lie.

“Please tell me this is not what I think it is.” he said, his voice wavering as he turned to face you with the paper in his hand.

Your silence spoke louder than words. Tears spilled over, and you quickly wiped at them, trying to keep it together. But it was of no use - Felix took one look at your face and let the paper fall onto the counter.

“Oh my God.” His voice cracked as he crossed the room in two giant strides, pulling you into a tight hug.

His arms wrapped around you like a safety net, holding you together.

“Y/N, please don't tell me Hyunjin knocked you up and then broke up with you. Tell me I’m hallucinating. Please.”

You laughed weakly through your tears, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once.

“He didn't know, Lix. He didn't know-” You whispered and Felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your shoulders.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to form words but couldn't. Finally, he let out a strangled laugh.

“He doesn’t know?!” He shook his head, his freckles standing out against his flushed skin. “Are you kidding me, Y/N? You’re telling me that man broke up with you because he wanted to protect you, and the entire time, you’ve been carrying his baby?”

“I was going to tell him, Lix, I was. That's why I went to meet him, but didn't give me a chance to say anything…he just…he just broke up with me!” you cried, wiping your face. “What was I supposed to do? Tell him and ruin everything?”

“Yes!” Felix shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Yes, sweetheart, you’re supposed to tell him! He deserves to know. This is big, like life changing big!”

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you said, “Lix, you don’t understand. This is about his career, his dreams. He’s worked so hard to get where he is, and I won’t be the reason he loses it all.”

Felix stared at you, his face a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “You can’t do this alone.”

“I have to,” you whispered, looking down at the floor. “I will.”

“Yes, you do.” His voice was firm, his hands gently cupping your cheeks and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “But don't have to. I’m here. Whatever you need, anything at all, you’ve got me. You’re not allowed to say no, okay?”

Your breath hitched, the warmth of his hands and the sincerity in his voice had you crumblung all over again. “Lix…”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes shining with determination. “You’re not doing this alone. I don’t care what it takes. We’re going to figure this out. Together.”

You nodded, sniffling as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.”

Felix didn’t say anything to Hyunjin. True to his word, he kept his mouth shut, but the secret was eating him alive to say the least. The man had gone full protective mode - literally adopting you, and by extension, your unborn child, completely.

And his possessiveness manifested in the most Felix way possible: constant texting. Constant.

Also, he changed your contact name to George. Why? Because no ones gonna get suspicious about a George he's talking to 24*7, right?

---

7:32 am

Felix: Good morning, sunshine! Have you eaten yet? If not, DO IT NOW. Don’t argue with me.

Felix: I will come over if you don't obey me, George!

You: Felix, it’s 7 in the morning. I just woke up. Also, who's George?

Felix: You’re George. That’s your name now. It’s safer this way.

Felix: And don’t dodge the question: HAVE YOU EATEN???

You: I literally just rolled out of bed, Felix. Give me a second to breathe.

Felix: No time to breathe, go FEED THE BABY.

You: This baby isn’t even hungry yet. Can you chill?

Felix: Fine. But just so you know, I won't hesitate from force-feeding you myself.

---

12:45 PM

Felix: Hey, did you go to your appointment today?

You: Yes, I went.

Felix: Pics or it didn’t happen.

You: I’m not sending you pictures of me at the doctor’s office, Lix

Felix: Why not? What if I need to fight the doctor? I need evidence.

You: Why would you need to fight my doctor?

Felix: I dunno, what if they're bad at their job? I’m not taking chances, George.

You: Please stop calling me George.

Felix: It's your name.

---

7:48 PM

Felix: Are you home? Did you eat dinner? Did you lock your doors?

You: Oh my God, Felix, can you give me a second to exist without you breathing down my neck?

Felix: No. I’m invested now.

You: Why are you like this?

Felix: Because my best friend knocked you up and then left you, and now I feel morally obligated to act like your baby daddy by proxy.

You: Please don’t say that again. Ever.

Felix: Too late. Also, how’s George Jr.?

You: Felix, we are NOT naming this baby George Jr.

Felix: Why not? It’s a great name.

You: I’m blocking you.

Felix: No, you’re not.

---

Hyunjin on the other hand was completely unaware of everything that was happening around him. He was completely shut off, pouring his entire self into practice and his work outs.

He missed you. He missed you so damn much. He would randomly take a walk in the building, hoping he'd get a glimpse of you. But seriously, you were nowhere to be seen.

Hyunjin was on his way to the practice room after a particularly unsuccessful attempt to run into you, when he heard the voices. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the venom in their tone caught his attention.

It took him a minute to figure out that they were actually talking about you, and he couldn't help but feel that rage bubbling up inside him.

“She’s gained so much weight lately,” one of the girls snickered. “I mean, have you seen her?”

The other girl laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened to her. She used to be so put together, but now? She’s just… bloated and tired all the time.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenched so hard it felt like his teeth might crack. How dare they?! He felt the overwhelming urge to whirl around and to let his emotions loose, to say something.

But of course Hyunjin couldn’t do that. Not really. He was an idol - a carefully constructed image, a brand - and he's already sacrificed way too much for the sake of it. He couldn’t afford to screw it all up now.

So instead, he swallowed his rage, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and started walking again. And then, as if it was a cruel joke, he saw you.

You were walking down the hallway, dressed in a dark-colored sweater, your hair tied back, wisps escaping to frame your face. You looked tired, yes. But, as always, to him, you looked absolutely beautiful.

But Hyunjin couldn't help but see that something was different. His eyes lingered a little too long on the soft curve of your body. Your face seemed rounder, your stride slightly slower, more careful.

His heart ached as he watched you pause at the corner, adjusting your bag before disappearing around the corner. He missed you so much it physically hurt. Shaking his head, Hyunjin turned and walked away, trying so hard to hold it all together.

He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He had to move on.

If only he knew that a mini Hyunjin was quite literally baking inside you, tucked away and growing strong under that sweater. If only he knew.

3:40 pm

Felix: How's the nausea?

You: I can't understand why it's called morning sickness if it's gonna last all day and trying to murder me

Felix: Don’t worry, George, I’m gonna make you the perfect meal. Zero vomit potential.

You: Omg

---

Meanwhile in Felix’s kitchen:

Felix was in deep. The counter was a disaster of herbs and half-cut veggies, and a pan bubbled ominously on the stove. His laptop sat precariously on the edge of the counter, streaming a cooking tutorial that Felix was utterly failing to keep up with.

“Chop the ginger finely,” the video said.

Felix frowned down at the mangled, uneven chunks of ginger on his cutting board.

“This is fine, right?” he mumbled to himself, throwing them into a pan.

“No, it’s not fine,” a voice said behind him, calm but dripping with judgment.

Felix jumped, yelping as he nearly knocked the pan off the stove. He whirled around to see Minho leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised.

“Hyung!” Felix squeaked, his voice an octave too high. “What are you doing here?”

“We're having dinner together. Forgot I see ?” Minho asked flatly, his sharp eyes sweeping over the culinary battlefield. He nodded at the laptop screen.

“What’s this? I thought we were ordering?”

Felix scrambled to close the YouTube video but fumbled, sending a spatula clattering to the floor.

“No! I just…uh…thought this recipe looked… yummy?”

Minho’s other eyebrow shot up as he read, “Ginger and lemon soup for nausea relief? That’s not exactly your usual vibe, Lix.”

Felix froze, his brain scrambling for an excuse. “I…uh…”

Minho tilted his head, his gaze locked on Felix. He gestured toward the mess. “Who’s it for?”

“No one!” Felix blurted out too quickly.

Minho smirked - like a cat cornering a mouse. He strolled into the kitchen, plucked up the laptop, and read the YouTube title aloud: “Pregnancy-Friendly Meals, huh?”

Felix groaned internally. He was so dead. Minho set the laptop down and turned to Felix, his face unreadable.

“You’re cooking for Y/N, aren’t you?”

“How…what…why would you -” Felix blinked at him, jaw dropping.

“I saw her going into a maternity hospital last week...and now this? It’s really sweet of you,” Minho said, his tone soft and kind, as he started clearing the counter. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Felix stared at him, absolutely flabbergasted. How did Minho know? He stayed silent, unsure if confirming or denying would make things worse.

“Relax, I’m not going to say anything. But…” His sharp eyes flicked to the pan on the stove, then back to Felix, a smirk forming on his face. “You’re doing a terrible job. Move.”

Before Felix could protest, Minho rolled up his sleeves and took over. Within minutes, the chaos Felix had created was transformed into a very professionally prepared meal.

Felix hovered awkwardly, torn between relief and panic. “You…you won’t tell anyone, right?”

Minho snorted. “Of course not. And if you’re serious about helping her, then I'll stand right by you.”

He packed up everything in containers and handed it to Felix with a raised eyebrow.

“Now go. She needs to eat.”

---

Felix was at yours in record time, and when he set the food down on the coffee table, you looked up from the couch, sighing softly.

“Did you burn the kitchen down?”

“Nope,” Felix said quickly. “Minho saved me.”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “What? Minho? He knows?”

Felix flopped onto the couch beside you, looking absolutely defeated.

“Yeah, apparently he’s known for a while. He saw you going into the maternity hospital one day.”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Oh my God.”

“He promised not to say anything!” Felix said defensively, holding his hands up. “And he even helped cook this. So, technically, you can’t kill me.”

You glared at him but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Thanks for being here, Lix.”

Felix grinned, nudging the plate toward you. “Eat, George. Minho will haunt me if you don’t.”

You rolled your eyes but dug in, and for the first time in days, the food didn’t immediately send you running for the bathroom.

---

The next morning, you woke up to the doorbell, in the early hours. It was still dark outside, as you stumbled out of your bedroom, still half-asleep, and a scowl firmly planted on your face.

“Took you long enough,” Minho mumbled as he walked into your apartment, going straight for the kitchen. 

You were trying to understand if you were hallucinating or if Minho was actually in your kitchen. 

“Minho, what are you doing here?” You asked, trying to tame your hair. 

“Sit,” he commanded without looking up, focused on flipping something in the pan.

You frowned but obeyed, collapsing into a chair at the table. “It’s not even sunrise.”

“Just making sure you eat,” he said simply. “Lix said you're struggling,”

“You're here to cook for me?”

“Yes?”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Felix stepped inside, carrying what looked like a bag of groceries. He stopped short, staring at Minho with the same confusion you felt.

“What is he doing here?”

“I could ask the same about you,” Minho shot back without missing a beat, sprinkling a pinch of salt over whatever masterpiece he was working on.

Felix stormed into the kitchen, setting his bag down with an unnecessary thud. “What are you doing, hyung? And what are you even making? George doesn’t even like eggs that much!”

Minho scoffed. “It’s not for you, so why does it matter?”

“It matters because I’m supposed to be taking care of her!” Felix snapped, crossing his arms like an angry puppy.

“Clearly, you weren’t doing a great job,” Minho retorted. “I saw the mess you called cooking yesterday.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands. “Not this.”

---

Over the next few days, it became a full-on battle between Minho and Felix. It started with each trying to one-up the other in ways that were more amusing than helpful.

One morning, Felix insisted on making pancakes, painstakingly arranging blueberries into a smiley face on each one. “See, George? They’re cute and delicious!”

Minho, unimpressed, countered by making a three-course breakfast complete with fresh juice and perfectly folded napkins. “Pregnant women need nutrients, not art projects,” he said smugly.

Felix glared at him like he wanted to fight. “Pregnant women also need to smile, and my pancakes are adorable.”

But for all their ridiculousness, their constant presence was a comfort. They kept you distracted from the gaping hole in your chest where Hyunjin’s absence had settled. But no amount of blueberry pancakes or perfectly cooked meals could fill that void.

Felix had barged into your apartment one evening with a box of cookies that he'd baked.

“George! I baked you something!”

Minho, already in the kitchen chopping vegetables, glanced over his shoulder with a look that screamed, not this again.

“What are those?” Minho asked, gesturing to Felix's box  with his knife.

“Cookies,” Felix said proudly, setting them on the table in front of you. “Pregnancy-safe, gluten-free, sugar-free, full of love.”

“Full of what?” Minho deadpanned, clearly unimpressed.

“Love!” Felix shot back, hands on his hips. “Something you wouldn’t understand, obviously.”

“Love isn’t a substitute for nutrition, Yongbok. Try again.” Minho snorted.

“Oh, here we go,” you muttered, already bracing for the impending argument as you sat at the table, nibbling cautiously on a cookie.

“You’re just jealous because George Jr. is my baby,” Felix said, crossing his arms and glaring at Minho like he’d just won the argument of the century.

Minho paused mid-chop, turned slowly to face Felix.

“George Jr.?” he asked flatly. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“What’s wrong with George Jr.?” Felix said defensively. “It’s a strong name! Unique even!”

Minho scoffed. “Unique isn’t always a good thing, Felix. You might as well call the baby Lemon or Carrot.”

“Wow, okay,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“And besides,” Minho continued, turning back to the stove like the conversation was settled, “I do the majority of the cooking, Y/N is thriving on it, so I'm the rightful Appa.”

Felix gasped like Minho had just slapped him.

“Excuse me? Cooking doesn’t make you the dad! I’m the one who gives her all the cuddles and emotional support!”

“You’re like a clingy golden retriever,” Minho shot back, not even turning around.

“Say that again, hyung, I dare -”

“Enough!” you shouted, cutting through their bickering. Both men froze, wide-eyed, and looked at you.

“I'm sure Hyunjin would probably like a say in this whole ‘who’s the dad’ debate.” you said, and the room fell silent. 

And then Minho shrugged casually.

“I mean, sure, if we’re counting his five seconds of contribution to this whole thing.”

You and Felix both turned to stare at him, your mouths dropping open in identical expressions of disbelief. It took approximately two seconds before all three of you burst out laughing.

The laughter started light, then turned uncontrollable, your giggles mixing with Felix’s loud snorts and Minho’s chuckles. You laughed so hard your sides started to hurt, but then, without warning, the giggles morphed into something else.

The tears hit you before you could stop them. One moment you were laughing, and the next, you were crying, the overwhelming mix of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Felix’s smile faltered, and he rushed to your side, wrapping an arm around you.

“George, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his usual sunshine dimmed by concern.

Minho was there a moment later, kneeling in front of you and gently resting a hand on your knee. 

“Breathe, jagi,” he said quietly. “You’re okay. We’re here.”

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself, but the weight of everything - the pregnancy, the secret, missing Hyunjin - was too much.

“I miss him…a lot,” you managed between sobs.

“I know, I know…but we're here for you, George. You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ve got you.” Felix hugged you tighter, his voice steady but emotional.

Minho nodded as he said, “He’s right. You’re stuck with us now. You and George Jr.”

That earned a watery laugh from you, and you wiped at your eyes, looking between them. 

“I don’t deserve you two.”

“Yes, you do,” Minho said firmly.

“Absolutely,” Felix added. “And so does George Jr.”

---

Hyunjin was losing his mind.

It wasn’t just the lingering ache of your absence or the fact that he hadn’t heard your voice in what felt like forever. But it was also Felix, his best friend, his other half, his partner-in-crime. Felix was suddenly a closed book. The guy who usually shared everything, from dumb cat videos to the tiniest gossip about their members, had turned into a human vault. A sketchy human vault.

Felix was constantly disappearing. After practice, during breaks, even in the middle of game nights. When Hyunjin asked, Felix always had some vague excuse. 

“Oh, just running errands!”

“Helping out Minho-hyung with something.”

“Had to grab something for George!”

Who the hell was George? 

Hyunjin squinted every time Felix made one of these excuses. Since when was his best friend suddenly so obsessed with running errands? And why was Minho always involved?

Hyunjin didn’t like it.

At first, he chalked it up to paranoia. Maybe he was overthinking. Obviously, losing you had him extra possessive and clingy. Maybe Felix and Minho were just…hanging out more? It wasn’t a crime. But then Hyunjin started noticing things.

Felix and Minho were inseparable. They’re always whispering about God-knows-what. They’d vanish together after schedules, not even bothering to invite Hyunjin to join.

So naturally, one evening, after a particularly grueling practice session, Hyunjin cornered Felix in the locker room.

“Lix,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall like he was interrogating a criminal. “Where have you been going all the time?”

And to his credit, Felix didn’t even flinch.

“Oh, nowhere. Just hanging out with Minho-hyung. You know how it is.”

“Since when do you and Minho-hyung have this…whatever-this-is?” Hyunjin narrowed his eyes.

Felix shrugged nonchalantly, pulling his hoodie over his head and saying, “We’ve just been vibing.”

“Vibing?” Hyunjin echoed, incredulous. “You disappear every day to vibe? And what’s with all the whispering during practice?”

Felix zipped up his hoodie and slung his bag over his shoulder.

“You’re being dramatic, Hyun. It’s nothing.”

Hyunjin stared at him, trying to gauge if Felix was lying. But Felix’s face was completely blank, a perfect poker face.

“What about Y/N?” Hyunjin asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Have you…seen her?”

At that, Felix paused, just for a second, but it was enough for Hyunjin to notice.

“I'm sure she’s good, Hyun. Busy probably.” he managed, giving him a smile.

Hyunjin frowned, but before he could press further, Felix clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t overthink, mate. Get some rest, yeah?”

And just like that, Felix was gone, leaving Hyunjin standing in the empty locker room, more confused than ever.

---

The next day, Hyunjin had been lingering suspiciously around the studio after practice, pretending to stretch while trying (and failing) to overhear Felix and Minho’s latest hushed conversation.

Chris, so so used to all the bullshit his boys pulled on the regular, had noticed this constant whispering between Felix and Minho, and also Hyunjin’s not-so-subtle attempts to loiter. He clapped his hands loudly.

“Hyunjin, go home. You’re exhausted, mate.”

Hyunjin, startled, stammered something about finishing up but Chris gave him a hard enough glare that had him reluctantly packing up and storming off (throwing one last suspicious glance at Felix, who pretended to be engrossed in tying his shoelaces.)

Once Hyunjin was out the door, Chris turned to Felix and Minho, his arms crossed and his leader gaze set to high alert.

“Okay,” he said, his voice stern, “what’s going on with you two? You’ve been sneaking around like teenagers, and I have a bad feeling about it. Spill.”

Felix and Minho exchanged a glance, before Minho shook his head. 

“Nothing’s going on, hyung,” Minho said coolly, leaning against the wall like he wasn’t sweating internally.

Felix, on the other hand, immediately started babbling. 

“Oh, you know, just chilling and cooking and - did you know George is a big fan of pumpkin soup? I’ve been learning how to make it. Minho hyung’s been helping…he’s such a perfectionist in the kitchen, but that’s beside the point -”

But the moment ‘George’ left his mouth, Minho sighed. 

“Who the hell is George?” Chris interrupted, his sharp eyes narrowing.

Minho sighed, muttering, “Great work, Yongbok.”

Felix blinked rapidly, his face heating up. He could do anything, literally anything in the world. But that anything didn't include lying to Chris. 

“Oh, uh, George is just…you know…a friend!” 

“A friend? You’ve been disappearing every day,  and sneaking around because of a friend?”

Felix opened his mouth, probably to launch into another nonsensical explanation, but Minho cut him off.

“George is Y/N,” he said flatly, like he was tired of the charade.

Chris froze.

“What do you mean George is Y/N?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “What the hell is going on?”

Felix started flailing, his words tripping over each other.

“It’s not like we didn’t want to tell you, hyung, but it’s complicated, and she’s been going through a lot, and she needs all the help and support with George Jr. -”

“George Jr.?!” Chris exclaimed, his voice now echoing off the walls.

Minho, as calm as ever, pointed at Felix. “You’re making it worse.”

Chris threw his hands in the air as he said, “What is George Jr.?!”

“You mean who is George Jr.? It’s the baby. She’s pregnant.” Minho sighed, rubbing his temples.

The room went silent. Chris blinked several times, his expression cycling through shock, confusion, and then something that could only be described as 'Dad Rage'.

“She’s pregnant?! SHE’S PREGNANT, AND YOU TWO KEPT THIS FROM ME?!”

Felix, now thoroughly panicking, looked at Minho like he was begging for help. Minho just shrugged.

Chris glared at both of them. “You’re taking me to her. Right now.”

---

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You waddled over and opened it to find Chris standing there, his arms crossed and his eyes full of emotion.

Before you could say a word, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, his voice laced with both worry and frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Behind him, Felix stood pouting like a scolded child and Minho looked like he regretted everything.

“Chris,” you gasped, trying to pull back from his hug. “I can’t breathe!”

He released you but kept his hands on your shoulders, scanning your face like a concerned dad. “You should’ve told me. We’re family, Y/N. You thought of doing this alone? Does he know? Oh my god, he doesn't know, does he?!”

From behind him, Felix muttered, “She’s not alone. I’ve been taking care of her.”

Chris whipped around to face him.

“Oh, you’ve been taking care of her, have you?!”

Felix folded his arms, his pout deepening.

“George Jr. is mine. None of you fake dads are gonna ever-”

Minho, who’d been quiet up until now, rolled his eyes and interrupted him.

“Please. You think you’re the dad just because you baked her cookies? Please.”

Felix turned to him, affronted. “You’ve been helping me! And my baby!”

“Oh, for the love of -” Chris groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, before glancing at you. “We're gonna get through this.”

You smiled at them, nodding. But deep inside, guilt gnawed at you. Everyone except Hyunjin seemed to be catching up. 

You'd started working from home more and more since you started your sixth month. You came over to the company only when you had something important to do. 

This afternoon was supposed to be uneventful. You had planned to drop by the company, grab a few files, and leave quickly. But apparently, fate had other plans.

You were leaving one of the offices when you heard it.

“Y/N?”

The voice was soft, almost hesitant. You froze in place, gripping the files tightly against your chest. Slowly, you turned to see Hyunjin standing a few feet away, his eyes wide as saucers, his gaze locked on you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze flickered down to your stomach - the not-so-subtle curve of your six-month baby bump that your sweater absolutely failed to conceal under closer scrutiny.

Hyunjin’s face drained of all color.

“What…Y/N…are you…?” he stammered, his voice breaking.

You panicked, taking a step back. “Hyunjin, I -”

But he was already closing the distance between you, his voice rising into a frantic whisper.

“Are you pregnant?!”

You winced, glancing around nervously, but the hallway was thankfully empty. Still, Hyunjin’s voice, even when hushed, completely floored you.

“Hyunjin, let’s not -”

“Are you pregnant?!” he repeated, his voice breaking. His hand gestured toward your stomach, and he looked so utterly wrecked that you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

So you nodded.

His reaction was immediate. Hyunjin stumbled backward, his eyes welling up with tears, his hands clutching his head as if trying to keep himself from falling apart.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Oh my God. Oh my God, it’s mine, isn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening at the sight of him falling apart. “Hyunjin -”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was louder now, no longer a whisper. “That’s my baby! Our baby! And you didn’t tell me?”

“Hyunjin, please,” you begged, trying to calm him, but he was a storm you couldn’t contain.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I would’ve left everything for you! Don’t you know that? I would’ve -”

You shook your head fiercely, your own tears spilling over now.

“Hyunjin, I couldn't -”

“I don’t care!” he shouted, his voice cracking painfully. “None of it means anything if I don’t have you!”

Before either of you could say more, Chris appeared, obviously having heard the chaos from the other end of the hallway.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded, his eyes flickering between you and the sobbing mess that was Hyunjin.

“Hyung,” Hyunjin sobbed, clutching Chris’s arm as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. “She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me. That’s my baby.” His voice broke again, and he leaned heavily into Chris, tears falling freely.

Chris’s expression softened instantly, and he glanced at you as you stood rooted to your spot, tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“Hyunjin, calm down. Let’s talk about this somewhere else, okay?” He tried to guide Hyunjin back toward the practice room, but Hyunjin was not taking orders from anyone at this point.

“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m not going anywhere until she tells me why she didn’t tell me.”

You stepped closer, your heart breaking as you cupped his tear-streaked cheeks with trembling hands. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his eyes red and raw as they searched yours for answers.

“Because,” you whispered, your voice cracking, “I love you. I love you too much to let you give up your dreams for me.”

Hyunjin’s tears fell harder.

“You think I’d regret it?” he choked out. “You think I’d ever regret choosing you? Choosing our baby?”

You shook your head through your tears.

“I couldn’t let you make that choice, Hyun. Not when I knew how much this means to you.”

Before he could respond, Felix and Minho arrived, their worried faces appearing at the end of the hallway. Felix took one look at the scene and immediately rushed to Hyunjin’s side, wrapping an arm around him.

“Hyunjin,” Felix said softly, his own voice shaking. “Come on, breathe.”

Minho, meanwhile, approached you, his arm going around your shoulder, and then glancing at Hyunjin.

“You’re not going to solve anything by falling apart here,” he said calmly. “Pull yourself together.”

But Hyunjin was inconsolable, his sobs growing louder.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know. She’s been going through this alone, and I didn’t know. What kind of person does that make me?”

You stepped closer, your voice firm as you said, “Hyunjin, stop. You’re not a bad person. This isn’t your fault. If anything, it's mine. For keeping this from you.”

“I want to be there. Oh my God, I love you! Don’t shut me out again,” he whispered brokenly. “Please.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I won’t.”

As Chris and Felix finally led Hyunjin away, Minho stayed behind, pulling you into a hug.

“Well,” he said dryly, “that could’ve gone worse.”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping your tears. “Could it?”

Minho sshrugged

“At least he knows now. He’ll come around. And when he does…” He smirked faintly. “You’re going to have a hell of a time keeping him out of your hair.”

You sighed, your heart heavy but hopeful. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The company meeting was the stuff of legends. Chris had marched in like the leader of a revolution, Hyunjin trailing behind with fire in his eyes. By the end of it, the higher-ups had no choice but to relent. Hyunjin wasn’t going anywhere. Neither were you. And most importantly, Hyunjin was going to make damn sure his family - you and George Jr. were going to be happy, and with him always. 

Now that he was officially back, Hyunjin wasted no time slipping into full-time ‘husband’ mode. His mission? Make up for every second he’d missed. And maybe, just maybe, remind Minho and Felix that while they had been excellent stand-ins, it was time to hand over the reins to the rightful husband.

But, of course, Felix and Minho had no intention of stepping aside without a fight.

---

You and Hyunjin were finally having some well-deserved downtime - he had you nestled against his chest on the couch, his hand resting protectively on your bump. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt calm. Peaceful.

And then Felix appeared.

“Move,” Felix announced dramatically, striding into the room and pointing at Hyunjin like he was accusing him of a crime.

“What?” Hyunjin asked, frowning.

“I said move,” Felix repeated, already wedging himself between the two of you (particularly experienced with this as he'd done it a hundred times before). 

You couldn’t help but laugh as Felix threw an arm around you and placed his head on your shoulder.

“Just so you know, Mr. Biological Father,” Felix began, glaring pointedly at Hyunjin, “George Jr. is mine. We share an emotional bond that transcends DNA, okay? And, George? She's mine too. You being back changes nothing.”

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

“What are you even talking about?! Why are you still calling her that?!”

Felix huffed dramatically, clutching you tighter. 

“Because she’s my George! And I will not stand for you disrupting the sacred trust we’ve built. Now go be useful and bring George her smoothie.”

Hyunjin looked at you, utterly baffled. “You’re seriously letting him call you George?”

“It’s a thing now. I’ve stopped fighting it.” You shrugged, trying to stifle your giggles.

Felix gave Hyunjin a smug grin.

“See? She’s accepted her destiny. Now go.”

Before Hyunjin could fire back, Minho’s voice floated in from the kitchen.

“Yongbok-ah, I’m the one making the smoothie. I know how to serve the smoothie I made. Hyunjin, if you’re so desperate to help, why don’t you go fold the laundry or something?”

Hyunjin groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Why am I suddenly the errand boy in my own house?”

Minho appeared in the doorway, smoothie in hand, his expression deadpan.

“Maybe because we’ve been doing all the heavy lifting for months while you were busy, I don’t know, not knowing she was pregnant.” he said, and Hyunjin flinched, clutching his chest like Minho had shot him.

“Okay, low blow.”

“I call it the truth.” Minho smirked. 

“Minho hyung and I have carried this team for far too long. You’re going to have to earn your place here, buddy.” Felix said with a grin. 

Hyunjin threw his hands up in exasperation and said, “She’s literally my girlfriend! How do I have to earn anything?!”

“George belongs to us, Hyunjin. Now go fold the laundry.” Felix said, waving Hyunjin away.

You burst out laughing, clutching your belly as Hyunjin huffed in annoyance before stomping off. He came back with a basket full of freshly washed and dried clothes, and started folding.

“I’ll fold every piece of laundry in Korea if it means overthrowing these two clowns.”

“You guys are all insane, you know that?” you said, shaking your head. 

“We prefer devoted.” Felix grinned.

“Dedicated. Loyal.” Minho nodded. 

“Whatever they are, I’ll beat them at it. Just watch.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes but threw you a wink.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Could you please do Dad!Oscar introducing his little girl to the paddock

Baby Piastri

The buzz around the paddock had been electric ever since the news broke: Oscar and Lily were bringing their four-month-old daughter to the Australian Grand Prix. Despite being young parents, the couple had embraced their new life with warmth and excitement. Their little girl, Yn, had become the sweetheart of the paddock without even setting foot in it. The drivers had only seen pictures of her, a tiny bundle of joy with Oscar’s soft curls and Lily’s bright, curious eyes.

Now, on media day, the moment everyone had been waiting for finally arrived. The McLaren garage was filled with anticipation as Oscar walked in, his hand entwined with Lily’s. In his other hand, he gently steered a stroller, carefully covered with a blanket to shield his daughter from the sun and the ever-present cameras. The couple made their way to a shaded outdoor table, Oscar making sure to park the stroller where Yn would be most comfortable.

Lando was the first to greet them, practically bouncing on his feet with excitement.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting forever to meet the little princess!” he said, crouching beside the stroller.

Oscar chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with Lily. “Alright, alright,” he said, reaching down to gently peel back the blanket.

As the fabric fell away, the small group was met with the sight of a peacefully sleeping baby, her tiny fingers curled into loose fists. Her soft, chubby cheeks were slightly flushed, her breathing steady and deep.

Lando melted instantly. “Oh my God,” he whispered, as if speaking too loudly might wake her. “She’s perfect.”

He reached out, hesitating just before his fingers brushed over her tiny hand. “Can I?” he asked, looking up at Lily.

“Of course,” she said with a smile.

The moment Lando’s finger made contact with Yn’s tiny palm, her fingers instinctively wrapped around it. Lando let out a breath of pure awe.

“I think she likes me,” he said proudly.

By now, the other drivers had started to gather, their curiosity drawing them in like a magnet. Max, Charles, George, and Carlos joined, standing around the table, their faces softening at the sight of the tiny girl. Even Fernando, who rarely got excited about much outside of racing, was watching with a rare, gentle smile.

“Wow,” Charles murmured, leaning in slightly. “She’s even cuter in person.”

George chuckled. “You say that like she’s a celebrity.”

“She kind of is,” Carlos pointed out. “I mean, the entire paddock has been waiting to meet her.”

“She looks like a mix of both of you,��� Max said, glancing between Oscar and Lily. “But I think she’s got more of Lily’s features.”

Oscar grinned. “Yeah, I think so too. She’s definitely got Lily’s eyes.”

As they all spoke quietly, keeping their voices hushed in an effort not to wake the baby, a small noise caught their attention. Yn shifted slightly, her tiny face scrunching up as she started to fuss.

Lily immediately reached for her, carefully lifting her out of the stroller and settling the baby onto her lap. Yn blinked blearily, her sleepy eyes scanning her surroundings as if taking everything in for the first time.

Then, her gaze landed on Oscar.

For a second, there was just silence as she stared at him. And then, her entire face lit up in a heart-melting grin, her little feet kicking excitedly.

The collective reaction from the drivers was instant.

“Awwwwww!” Lando practically squealed. “Did you see that? She loves her daddy!”

Oscar, completely enchanted, couldn’t resist. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her soft, chubby cheek. Yn giggled in response, reaching up with tiny hands to pat at his face.

Fernando smirked. “She’s already got him wrapped around her finger.”

Oscar didn’t even try to deny it. “Of course she does,” he said, smiling down at his daughter. “She’s perfect.”

Charles, who had been silently watching, finally reached out a hand. “Can I hold her?”

Lily glanced at Oscar, who nodded before carefully handing Yn over to Charles. The Monegasque driver held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his usual composed demeanor completely replaced by adoration.

“Bonjour, petite princesse,” he murmured, rocking her gently. Yn gazed up at him with big, curious eyes before giving him a tiny, toothless grin.

Carlos nudged Max. “I think Charles might cry.”

Max smirked. “I wouldn’t blame him.”

The group spent the next half hour completely enchanted, passing Yn around as they cooed over her, each driver getting their turn to hold her. Even Max, who insisted he wasn’t good with babies, found himself holding her carefully, his expression unreadable before he finally muttered, “She’s pretty cute.”

Lando took endless pictures, sending them to the group chat with captions like “New McLaren team principal” and “Future world champion spotted.”

Yn, blissfully unaware of the chaos she had caused, simply soaked up the love, babbling happily as her tiny hands reached out for anyone close enough.

As the afternoon went on, Oscar and Lily watched their daughter surrounded by love, their hearts full. They had always known that the F1 paddock was like a family, but seeing how much everyone adored their little girl made it all the more real.

“Guess she’s got a whole team of uncles now,” Oscar mused, his arm draped around Lily.

Lily laughed. “Yeah. And they’re all completely smitten.”

Oscar looked at his daughter, now resting contently in Lando’s arms as he whispered nonsense to her with the biggest smile on his face. He felt a warmth spread through his chest.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I think she’s going to love growing up here.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: I hope you enjoyed this story. My requests are always open and I'm more than happy to write them.

-💙🦋

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ──  our firsts (the one in which hyunjin can't wait to kiss you)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i've had this one stare at me for months until i finally got around to finishing it recently. i feel kinda rusty but i hope you'll still enjoy it <3

The thrill of a new relationship was exhilarating, full of euphoria and colorful, restless butterflies that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. Your relationship with Hyunjin was fresh, in more ways than one. You’ve never experienced such intense feelings before, a bond so genuine and invigorating.

You were taking it slow and steady, discovering more of each other with every interaction. How he smelled, how he smiled when he was truly happy, eyes turning into two crescent moons, how he hugged you in greeting, a little tighter each time.

Hyunjin was made of layers you had to contain yourself from peeling all at once, afraid your eagerness would scare him off for good. Kind, compassionate, and with a heart of gold, your new lover was everything you could ever ask for in a partner.

Every new side of him, you haven’t experienced before, was endearing. How his fingers held onto yours, leisurely, before intertwining them when he needed to feel you closer, palm to palm. How his touch lingered on your cheek, slowly trailing down your jaw and neck, almost like he was preparing to kiss you. Which hasn’t happened yet, unfortunately, almost a month into your relationship.

A part of you was disappointed, there was no denying it. But at the same time, you knew his affection was going to be worth the wait. After all, there was no rush, you had all the time in the world.

Tonight was another one of your firsts – the first movie night at your apartment. A comfortable date night spent by the TV, with some good food, a great show, and even better company. An amazing plan in both of your books, your introverted natures meshing together quite lovely.

“Hi, beautiful.” He greets the moment he’s let in, voice soft and tender, smiling brightly as he leans down to kiss the side of your head, spreading his warmth throughout your whole body.

You watch him remove his shoes, placing them neatly by the door before you pull him into a hug by his opened hoodie. Your arms go around his middle while your head rests on his chest. “Hi.”

Hyunjin relaxes in an instant, returning the embrace and squeezing you tighter, as expected. “I – “ You can hear the hesitation in his voice, mulling over his next words as if letting them out would somehow change everything. “I missed you.” He whispers, shy as his face finds solace in your hair.

Flowers bloom in your chest, heart pounding against its enclosure at an alarming pace he was sure to feel resonating through his body. But that was okay because his own was responding in kind. “I missed you too.”

“I’m glad.” Hyunjin says with a little more confidence, finally pulling away and allowing you to see his beautiful face.

You weren’t usually this straightforward, navigating this relationship with as much care as possible, so his boldness was a little surprising. But not unpleasant, if anything you couldn’t wait for him to open up more, to fully bloom into himself around you.

Taking his hand in yours, you then lead him into the living room that has been awaiting his arrival with bated breath, everything set up for your comfort.

You make small talk, asking about each other’s day and what the other has been up to since the last time you met, a week ago. It’s peaceful, the atmosphere light and comfortable as you drift toward one another without much thought, sides pressed together as you browse the selection of movies.

“What do you feel like watching?” You ask, facing him.

Hyunjin shrugs, leaning back into his seat, one of his arms thrown over the couch behind you. “Whatever your precious heart desires.”

Said heart flutters, thumping a little too loudly at being acknowledged in such a way. “The Notebook?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling into two crescents. “Do you want to see me cry? Is that why I was invited over?”

“We can cry together.” You offer, smiling. “I’ve been wanting to watch this one with you for a long time.”

“Why?” He tilts his head, eyes full of fondness as his ears gradually redden. You both knew what the movie was about and the passionate scenes that were sure to have you squirming in your seats, too shy for your own good.

“Because it’s the epitome of romance and true love!”

Hyunjin is beaming, chuckling lowly at the slight pout on your lips that has him give in instantly. “Alright then. Can’t wait to have my heart ripped out of my chest!”

You shake your head, passing him the remote before standing up to get the food you prepared in advance. “That won’t happen while I’m here.”

“Why? You’re going to put it back together?” He teases, neck craned to look after you like a man enthralled.

“Always.”

You don’t notice the surprise that takes over his features as he’s already sporting a smile when you return, handing him a plate before settling next to him, farther than before to ensure there’s enough space to make eating comfortable.

With the lights dimmed, your movie night starts uneventfully, with little to no talking since you’re both too focused on your food to multitask. But little by little, you’re scooting closer, wanting to feel each other’s warmth and hear the unspoken words of affection neither was brave enough to say out loud.

“I’ve drawn this scene before.” Hyunjin murmurs just as you move to snuggle into his chest, instantly accommodating you with one arm draped over your shoulders bringing you closer as if he’s been waiting for this moment. You settle into his embrace like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and not your actual first time cuddling with him like this. Another milestone in your new relationship leaving its mark, a welcomed guest whose sole purpose was to ensure neither strayed away from the path of true love.

“Really?” You tear your gaze from the television just as the characters begin playing around with their ice creams, laughing and being silly before it quiets down as their lips meet over and over again. “You’ve drawn them making out?”

Hyunjin is mesmerized by the faint sparkle in your eyes as he looks down at you, the light from the television caressing your side profile tenderly while not concealing any of your beauty. He’s silent for a few seconds more before his eyes drop to your glossy lips and he can’t help but lick his own, inhaling sharply. “No.” A laugh escapes him against his will, still distracted. “The scene right after.”

You quirk an eyebrow, bravely reaching out to trace his sharp jawline, just as distracted. “What’s so great about that scene? Wouldn’t you have rather captured the climax?”

He leans into your touch, eyelids suddenly heavy as they struggle to keep blinking and not give in to his desires. With great difficulty, Hyunjin feels around for the remote, subsequently pulling you closer as he fast-forwards the movie to the scene of interest, your chest brushing against his while both of your legs slip into the space between his.

Then, with the utmost gentleness, his fingers settle on your chin and move your head towards the screen, silver rings cold against your heated skin. Hyunjin paused the movie at the perfect time—the girl is smiling from ear to ear while her boyfriend nuzzles her cheek, smothering her with endless affection.

“I wanted to capture the genuine happiness on their faces. People are even more beautiful when they’re in love. Just look at them – they’re glowing.”

But by now, you’re back to looking at him, burning the image of his side profile with all of his beauty marks to memory for safekeeping. “So are you.”

Slowly, Hyunjin meets your eyes, releasing your chin. “What?”

“You also glow when you talk about something you’re passionate about. Something you love.”

He’s taken aback, you can tell by the way his eyes widen slightly, mouth parting as he searches for the right words to respond. You’re so close you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he shallows, memorize the way his chest moves up and down with every breath that hits your face.

In this moment, the only ones who matter are you and him.

“You think so?”

“I know so. After all, I’m always watching you when we’re together.”

Hyunjin stills, and so do you as the meaning behind your confession hits you both at the same time.

“That’s impossible.” He eventually shakes his head, tucking some hair behind your ear as his voice drops. “I can never seem to be able to look away when you’re nearby. I would have noticed.”

“Like I notice everything about you.”

His touch is tender, so featherlight that if you weren’t hyper-aware of everything involving him, you wouldn’t have felt it. Hyunjin leans closer, brushing his nose against yours and smiling once your breath hitches. “The way your whole face lights up when someone tells a joke.” Nimble fingers caress your face, eyes staring past your exterior in search of the heart you’ve already presented to him on the shiniest silver platter.

“How you hold my hand a little tighter whenever you’re really happy.” He continues, said hand moving to cradle the back of your head.

“I only get that happy when I’m with you.” You breathe out, allowing your hands to rest on his chest, not looking away in fear of missing the feelings showcased all over his face, ones he still hasn’t found the courage to speak out loud.

Hyunjin looks like he wants to continue, but his eyes keep dropping to your lips, his own inching closer but not close enough to meet yet, silently waiting for your next move. For your approval, your comfort above anything else in the world for him.

When you do the same, your arms wrapping around his neck, he finally caves in.

It’s soft, his plump lips enveloping yours in the sweetest kiss you’ve ever tasted. The ever-patient man takes his time, melting against you as his other hand gently grasps your chin to keep you in place, bringing you close almost like he wants to merge souls.

The only thing you can hear in the quiet apartment is your heart pounding – or maybe it's his? Nobody knows where you end and he starts anymore, intertwined as you get lost in each other. You’ve wanted this for so long, daydreamed about it for hours on end and you’re happy to realize it’s so much better than anything your mind could ever come up with.

A little too soon after, Hyunjin pulls away, blinking as if he just woke up from a daze. His hand drops from your chin, finding solace on your waist as your eyes engage in a silent conversation your mouths couldn’t keep up.

Unfortunately for him, you’re impatient, so after making sure his lungs are filled with the needed air, you make your move, kissing him again. A quiet gasp escapes him as he falls backwards on the couch, cushioning your fall with his strong body, the corners of his mouth curling into an uncontrollable smile against your lips.

Kissing Hyunjin isn’t like anything you’ve experienced before. It’s electric and warm, something out of a movie, like fireworks going off on new years or witnessing flowers bloom for the first time in spring. An out of body experience that transports you to cloud nine the moment you touch him, the moment his hands make contact with any part of your body and leave behind sparks meant to keep everyone else that isn’t him away.

On top of him, you try to hold yourself up with your hands on his chest but he refuses, his arm around your middle keeping you flush against him as his lips teach yours a new dance. You have two left feet but somehow, Hyunjin makes it all seem easy, comfortable, and right like kissing him is an activity you’ve been doing for as long as you can remember.

When you pull away to breathe, he comes back to peck your puffy lips, one, two, and then three times before he’s grinning from ear to ear, the sight blinding your eyes that have gotten used to the darkness around for all of these years.

“Sorry.” He giggles sheepishly when it dawns on him his arm is still preventing you from moving. “I’ve just been waiting a lifetime to do this. I didn’t want it to end so soon.”

By now, your poor heart is nothing more than a puddle, leaking through your whole body and painting your insides in the color of the love that always seemed to overwhelm you, the feelings you could only thank him for. The love that had his name written in every nook and cranny of your existence, the one that marked and has changed you for the better in such a short amount of time.

You could spend a lifetime loving Hwang Hyunjin. And that’s exactly what you planned on doing.

[gf2bellamy]

I just want to say that I love all of your fics! They are so sweet and cute and 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Can I please request reader meeting Penelope at like a pottery club or art class or cafe or something and the two of them hit it off and become really good friends and reader mentions that her boyfriend is coming to pick her up and just gushes about how sweet he is and how much she loves him. And then Spencer shows up and Penelope is like “oh my god!!!”

coffee — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: absolutely loved this idea tysm for ur request ! <3

You took the last sip of your coffee, laughing loudly at the story Penelope had just told you.

“I cannot believe you actually said that,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief, still grinning.

Penelope simply shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Someone had to say it,” she quipped, smirking as she took another sip of her now nearly empty cup.

You had met Penelope purely by accident—a mix-up at the coffee shop when the barista had mistakenly switched your orders. You could have just exchanged cups and gone on with your day, but somehow, the two of you ended up talking. And talking.

One thing led to another, and suddenly, you were sitting together at the same table like old friends.

Now, as you noticed her cup was empty too, you felt reluctant to let the moment end.

“We should do this again,” you said, tilting your head at her.

Penelope’s eyes lit up instantly. “Yes. Yes. Most definitely yes,” she nodded enthusiastically, already reaching across the table for your phone before you could even offer it.

“I’m going out tonight with some friends from work,” she explained as she tapped her number into your contacts. “They’re wonderful people, and we’d have so much fun. You should totally come with.”

She handed your phone back, her enthusiasm contagious. You smiled, appreciating the offer, but you shook your head apologetically as you glanced at your screen.

“Can’t,” you said. “My boyfriend’s picking me up and we're grabbing dinner together.”

At that, Penelope’s brows arched with intrigue. “Boyfriend?” she echoed, her smirk returning.

You nodded, feeling warmth creep into your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Her grin widened as she leaned in slightly. “And? Tell me about this mystery man.”

You laughed softly at her curiosity, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well… he’s kind of the sweetest person I know,” you admitted, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Like, the kind of person who remembers all the little things—my favorite snacks, the way I take my coffee, even the books I say I want to read but never get around to.”

Penelope let out a dreamy sigh. “Okay, I love this already. Keep going.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s ridiculously smart, but he doesn’t act like he knows everything. He’s just… thoughtful, in a way that sneaks up on you.” You glanced at your phone again, checking the time. “Like, this morning, he woke me up with pancakes. He burned the edges a little, but he still insisted on making them.”

Penelope gasped dramatically. “Okay, I’m officially obsessed with him. He sounds like a dream.”

You laughed, nodding. “He really is.”

Before Penelope could press for more details, your phone buzzed in your hand. You glanced down at the screen, your heart skipping a beat at the name flashing across it. “That’s him,” you said with a grin, slipping your phone into your pocket.

Penelope’s smirk grew as she crossed her arms. “Well, now I have to meet this perfect man of yours.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Yeah,” you admitted, checking the time. “He should be outside right about now.”

And with that, the two of you stood up, walking out of the coffee shop together.

There he was—Spencer—standing just outside with his back to you, hands casually tucked into his pockets. The familiar sight of him sent a warm flutter through your chest.

“Spencer,” you called softly, excitement bubbling in your voice as you walked toward him, a wide smile spreading across your face.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his own smile instinctive—warm, genuine. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, his expression faltered. His shoulders stiffened, his smile slipping away.

Your steps slowed. “What?” you asked, brow furrowing, your arms—once ready to wrap around him—now hanging uselessly at your sides.

His gaze wasn’t on you. It was locked onto Penelope.

The two of them stood there, staring at each other, and the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Spencer wore a shocked and worried expression, while Penelope’s face was a mask of smug satisfaction.

“Uh…” you said, glancing back and forth between them, trying to decipher the sudden tension. “Spencer, this is Penelope. I met her at the coffee shop today. And Penelope, this is Spencer, my boyfriend.” You lightly touched his arm, hoping to draw his attention back to you.

And then—

“Oh my god,” Penelope suddenly squealed, her eyes practically glowing with excitement.

You turned to her, utterly bewildered.

“Spencer Reid,” she announced dramatically, planting her hands on her hips. “How dare you hide this from me?”

Spencer, whose face had somehow turned even redder, mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch.

Penelope, however, was having none of it. She spun toward you, pointing at him. “This?! This is your boyfriend?”

“…Yes?” you said slowly, the confusion growing.

She gasped, clutching her chest as if she had just heard the most scandalous news. “The Spencer Reid you’ve been gushing about? The one who makes you pancakes and remembers every single detail about you ?”

Your mouth opened slightly as realization dawned. “Wait. You know Spencer?”

“Oh, honey.” Penelope let out an exaggerated sigh. “Know him? I work with him. He is my Spencer.”

You blinked. “Your Spencer?”

Spencer finally let out a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Garcia…”

“Reid,” she shot back with a gleeful grin.

You took a step back, looking between them, still processing. “Wait, you’re Garcia?”

Penelope gasped again, looking mock-offended. “He didn’t tell you my name? I thought we were friends now!”

Spencer rubbed his temple. “I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think?” she interrupted, feigning shock. “Did you not think I would love her?”

He sighed, defeated.

You, meanwhile, had fully shifted from confusion to amusement, the situation far funnier now that you understood. “In his defense, I only knew you as ‘Garcia.’”

“Well, that changes now!” Penelope declared, looping her arm through yours as if you had been best friends for years. “Come on, we have so much to talk about.”

Spencer sighed again, but there was a small, fond smile pulling at his lips as he watched you two.

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Love 101

my week-late valentine's post

summary: third years ask first years for love advice. the first years suck at giving it type of post: blurbs characters: cater, trey, leona, rook, vil, idia, lilia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I. Cater and Deuce

Cater has always loved the thrill of the chase (or, really, the thrill of stalking your magicam at 2am) and he would have been content with keeping his digital distance if he didn't see you in Vil's last post. Suddenly anxious that he's fumbling, he does what he does best: info. And who would have better info than your best friend? "Uhhh, I dunno," Deuce says. "If you really like someone, then you should be honest with them- that's what my mom used to tell me, at least. Or did I read that somewhere? Uh, never mind. I'm sure the Prefect will understand! Just- you better treat them right, or else!" Be honest? When has honesty ever helped Cater? It'd take two more nights of crushing anxiety for him to send a risky text, spilling all of his feelings for you in a Magicam DM and then handing his phone over to a very confused (but pleased?) Riddle, so he won't check his notifs for your username every twelve seconds...

II. Trey and Ace

Trust me, he was not Trey's go-to. Okay, sure, Ace is your best friend. Sure, he knows everything about you, from your favorite desserts to your grades, and sure, you've probably told him everything about your dream man, but... It's Ace. And unlike darling, doe-eyed Deuce, if someone asked too much about you, Ace would get suspicious and go right into protective best friend mode. So, Trey keeps it vague. "Eh? You're asking me for dating advice?" Ace grins. "About time! I knew you were smart. What you're gonna do is give 'em a little, not too much. Maybe ghost 'em for a week or two, so they'll really miss you when you finally text back!" ...Yeah. Maybe Trey should just stick to desserts.

III. Leona and Jack

Listen, okay, Leona didn't want to ask him, either. But Ruggie had nothing, your other frosh friends couldn't flirt their way out of a paper bag, and Grim refused to give Leona the goods without tuna payments (and he's spoiled enough as it is). Of course, the moment Leona even implied he was thinking of you, Jack jumped. "You have to be direct and honest! This could be your life partner, you have to put your all in!" Right, sure. Why does he even bother with these kids?? You'd be turned off if Leona started spilling his guts like that. He would've given up then and there... but then Jack insisted he come to "support his upperclassman", as if it were a fight rather than a flirtation. Leona cursed the Seven, the stars, and every single student on campus as he stumbled his way through asking you out. "Not that you would, or that I care, but I-" he looks over his shoulder, and Jack is still there, arms crossed like an impatient parent. Leona grumbles. "If you want to..." "He wants to please you, Prefect!" Jack barks. "DON'T SAY IT LIKE THAT!"

IV. Vil, Rook, and Epel

It wasn't like Vil sought out Epel for the sole purpose of you, the freshman simply... happened to be in the room while Vil was thinking about it! Out loud! With Rook! In a... slightly argumentative manner! "Epel, settle something for us, would you?" "Oui, you see, I say the way to win the Prefect's favor is by anticipating their every thought!" "And I say that's insane. You know them best, so, tell us, what do they like?" The poor boy looks between them like he's being held at gunpoint. How should he have known?? It's not like you guys spent your time gabbing about boys! "APPLES!" he blurts out. "The Prefect loves apples!! My grandma always said the quickest way to a person's heart is through their stomach!" Rook giggles and Vil mumbles something about Epel's peanut-sized brain. ...Nonetheless, you wake up to crates full of apples at your door the next morning.

V. Idia and Ortho

beeeeeep... beeep... bing! Idia swivels around in his chair at the sound of the printer. Crap, did he accidentally hit print page again? What a waste of ink- that stuff's not cheap, you know! But it's just... Ortho. "Here ya go, big bro! I thought you might need this!" Idia cautiously takes the warm paper, entitled Romance Intel 101. "Uh... Ortho. Why are you giving me this? You know I max out the romance stats in all my games EZ," Ortho giggles. "It's not for a game, it's for the Prefect! Based on the data I've gathered, your heart rate accelerates by 1.2 seconds, and your pupils dilate by 40% when thinking of, or speaking to the Prefect!" Idia turns pink and crumples, as if he were the paper (the first line of which, BTW, reading "step one- make eye contact!") This is going to be a looooong school year...

VI. Lilia and Grim

You probably should've been suspicious when Lilia popped into Ramshackle and offered to babysit Grim for an afternoon, but you weren't- not with assignments due, at least. You said your goodbyes, and as soon as you were out the splintered door, Lilia spun on his heels. Short as he is, he towers over the little direbeast. "Hm, seems like we have time to spare. How about a casual conversation? Yes? Good! So, how do the youngsters these days go about showing their affections? I would like to make my feelings for a certain someone known, but I'm terribly out of practice." Grim thinks for a moment, and then: "Tuna. Looots of tuna. Heaps of it! It's all the rage!" Lilia nods sagely. "Ah, yes, I understand completely. There was a rotisserie chicken fad a few centuries ago... er, so I've read. Isn't love wonderful!" You come home from the library to an unconscious, drooling, but very happy Grim, and Lilia sitting atop a mountain of empty tuna cans and beaming. "Darling! You're back!"

VII. Malleus and Sebek

It had always been Sebek's honor and duty to serve the heir prince of Briar Valley, whether in war or in love. When Malleus wistfully said he wished to know you better, Sebek saw to it. That is, he spent the entire weekend shadowing you. And not subtly- he was never more than a few steps behind, pen and paper in hand. When you asked what in the world he was doing, he- "OBSERVING! NOW, QUIET! BEHAVE AS USUAL!" "You don't have to shout, you're right behind me. And observing what, Sebek?" "NONE OF YOUR CONCERN! ACT AS IF I AM NOT HERE!" At the end of the weekend, Sebek returned to Malleus' throne with a report that titled you "inquisitive, dense, and apparently hard-of-hearing."

VIII. Rollo and You

Your friends had seemed wary when Rollo asked you on a walk with him, though he promised he wouldn't take you too far from their clutches care. You had been in Fleur City for days and he didn't know a single thing about you, other than that you were magicless and pitiful. You were so often spoken over, interrupted, and dismissed, it took Rollo a strenuous amount of grace not to grab you by the wrist and drag you away from your rude, contemptuous classmates himself... He couldn't word the feeling. And he was hoping you could. "So," he says, "They refer to you as Prefect. That is your role? Do you enjoy it?" You shrug. Has being at that terrible school rendered you unfit for social interaction? "Very well. Then what do you do for... fun? You appeared to enjoy seeing the city. Are you interested in history?" You shrug again. How can he be expected to know you if you won't tell him anything?? Rollo decides that words are worthless, and his eyes land on your hands. His own fingers twitch and tingle in anticipation, and for a brief but terrifying moment, he thinks of reaching out to you. ...In the end, he can't will himself to do it. Maybe in another life.

[hannieween]

caught up in you | joshua hong

It all started with a little, harmless lie. After telling your mother that you would bring your boyfriend to her obnoxiously high-society birthday party, you had to improvise. With no actual options to ask, you turned to your dear friend, Joshua Hong. Caught up in this lie, you could only hope that real feelings wouldn’t start to bloom… right?

› pairings: joshua hong x female reader › aus: fake dating to ?, friends with benefits, best friend joshua, obnoxiously rich reader, friends to fucking, surfer joshua › genres: fluff, angst, smut (18+) › word count: 13.1k

⌈THIS FIC IS PART OF THE LONELY HEARTS CAFE COLLAB⌋

🎧: spotify playlist

› warnings: smut with plot, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (f. receiver), making out, a bit of nipple play, hard to soft sex, spanking, cream pie, slight breeding kink. pet names: baby, sweetheart (hers) joshie, shua, josh (his)

› read more

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

› author's note: here goes another reader self-insert for ya 🙂

› warning: this is not proofread.

CAUGHT UP IN YOU

prologue

The atmosphere felt dense with warmth and humidity. It didn’t help that the space was clouded by a giant cloud of cigarette smoke that hung in the air, so thick that the fans on the ceiling didn’t break through.

You sat on a round table surrounded by women that surpassed you in age. All friends to your mother, who sat directly across from you, shuffling a thick deck of cards. She did this expertly, her fingers holding the deck steady as the cards fell one on top of the other. Your mother was listening to one of her friends intently, squinting every time the older lady blew a big puff of smoke, almost directly to your mother’s face.

The urge to resist a laugh was nearly impossible, you had to mask it with an awkward cough. Your mother didn’t smoke, and didn’t tolerate anyone blowing smoke to her face. But in occasions such as this, the prohibition seemed to slip her very restrictive mind.

It was a Sunday evening. And on Sundays, your mother liked to spend time with her closest friends, sometimes at your childhood home, other times at one of her friends’ houses. But today, she made the invitation to everyone to spend it at the clubhouse. Her favorite place in the world since you can remember.

The place was plagued with memories from your childhood. You practically took your very first steps here when you were a baby. All the important stages of your life occurred there: learning to ride a bike, swimming, your first kiss, your first heartbreak—you could go on and on. You knew a lot of people; in fact, all of the ladies sharing the table had known you since you were a toddler.

And with that, they have seen you grow up through all of those stages of life.

With the subtlety of a cat, your mother’s eyes panned from the lady’s face and directly to yours. It was a quick glance, something that could’ve been missed in the blink of an unknowing eye. But to you, that glance carried a meaning. In a split second, the moment changed, leaving you hanging, looking for answers.

You looked to the lady talking to your mother, tuning your ear as she paused to take another long drag from her cigarette. Then, as their conversation carried on, between pauses to exhale the smoke, the puffy cloud dodged now by your mother, you understood the intention behind that glance.

“All I’m saying is that youth only lasts so much,” your mother’s friend, which you knew by Ms. Park. “One day you’re carrying them in your arms, and the other they’re getting married. It’s such an experience.”

You didn’t mean to stare, but it was hard to follow the conversation from the other side of the table.

“When I was my daughter’s age, I already had two kids,” Ms. Park said, delivering the sentence as though it were a complaint. “Now kids these days, they won’t get married; they don’t wanna have kids. It’s just a pity.”

“You do what you can to raise them right,” your mother replied, a smile forcing through the rigid features of her face. And then she looked at you again.

Your mother shuffled the deck into a pile, carefully placed in front of her. She separated the stack in two and began dealing hands of five to everyone, including you. Suddenly, the table turned into a nest of bubbling mutters, gossip, and roaring laughter from the women around you.

You looked at your hand, finding out quickly that yet again you had no luck in this game, just like the last. But it didn’t matter. You rarely lucked out.

It was around five in the afternoon, and the sun was beginning to set. The sky was pretty with light blue and pinkish hues, clouds crossing the air, painting white lines across in different directions. Looking out the large windows of the room, a lake stretched out to your view, where people were still partying out the last hours of the weekend.

You held your hand of cards close to your chest, eyeing the table as the women around you laid out their cards by turns, and you waited for yours. The only reason you were there was to appease your mother since it was almost her birthday.

The whirring of a ski boat directed your attention to the outside once again. The boat was cutting through the water, dragging a skier, leaving behind waves splashing against the hull. You only recognized the daredevil skier by the voice that echoed with a long, thrilling cry. The skier, of course, was your best friend Joshua Hong.  

A sigh tore from your chest before your mom called your name, her sharp voice snapping you out of it. Her gaze was darkened, the frown from your unfortunate aloofness making her forehead crease. “It’s your turn.”

You showed your game, which was not the weakest among the players on the table, but it was still weak. The game carried on, unaffected by your moves, so you continued to watch the sun setting, painting the sky in darker colors until they blended into complete darkness.

“Darling,” your mother called you as you picked up your sweater and your bag from the chair.

“Yes, mom?” You replied curtly, back tensing as you turned around to see your mother.

Your mother approached, settling a fur coat with gold ring-adorned fingers over her shoulders. “You know I’m making preparations for my birthday dinner, and Elise asked me if her daughter could bring her date and...” she paused, swallowing saliva primly as she averted her gaze to the docks outside. “When are you bringing your boyfriend to introduce me to him?”

You nearly choked on your spit. Mind reeling, it was time to fabricate a plan on the spot. Now, the boyfriend your mother might’ve been referring to was one you dated to commit ages ago. And it might’ve slipped your brain to tell her that the situationship never left its talking stages.

You could already hear the judgment that the words “I don’t have a boyfriend” would bring. The infamy that preceded you, eternally celibate, choked you beyond the power of comprehension. So, like the graceful daughter you were, you lied.

“Well, I was planning on bringing him to the party, of course,” you spat out, your tone high in the adrenaline of lying to your mother with such ease.

Your mother smiled, sighing out contently before replying. “Well, I’m looking forward to that.”

part one, fri(end)s

The sun blazed at the highest point of the sky, reflecting on the ocean. Joshua sat on his surfboard, letting the ebb and flow of the waves softly push him about. It was a quiet day; his friends had abandoned him for a morning of practice, being so that they spent the night prior at a party.

Joshua didn’t mind, he relished in the peaceful quiet that the ocean granted him; it’s vast blue extended before him and blended into the clear sky. He had paddled past the waves, chasing those that seemed exciting, but after a while, he decided to sit still, taking a moment to reflect.

He looked back to the shore, spotting something that wasn’t there when he arrived hours ago. A smile tugged at his lips, deciding at once to paddle back to shore, calling it a day.

You were lying on a towel, a book spread open and resting on your face; its paste was so mangled and worn that it showed how many times you had read the same book. Next to you was Yoon Jeonghan, who, unlike you, was sitting in the shade provided by a beach umbrella. He wore dark sunglasses and a white t-shirt, paired with pink swimsuit shorts.

You, on the other hand, were a sight to behold. Lying on the towel, with one leg crossed over the other, wearing a white bikini that made every curve of your beautiful body so seductive that everyone who passed by had to look at you at least once.

Jeonghan mumbled something under his breath, pretending to scratch the tip of his nose with one hand, and then, to top it off, he cleared his throat loudly.

“Hey guys,” Joshua sighed, brazenly lifting his surfboard to plunge it on the white sand, spraying drops of water all over your feet.

“Hey,” Jeonghan croaked nonchalant.

“Hey!” you complained, skin prickling at the feeling of the cold water on your feet. “Asshole,” you muttered, propping your body on one elbow and lifting the book from your face.

Joshua giggled sweetly, looking at the change in your expression, from genuinely annoyed to surprised, mouth gaping at him. “Sorry,” he said, leaning his head back to tussle his wet hair.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to–,” you sent a meaningful glare at Jeonghan, who just shrugged.

“I tried telling you,” Jeonghan said through his teeth.

It was then when it dawned on Joshua. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, panning from your face to Jeonghan’s, searching for indications that he might’ve stepped in while you were having a private conversation with Jeonghan.

“Ah, no, Josh. I thought you were still in the water,” you stammered, squinting as you looked up at him. Then you gave him a sweet smile.

“Of course not!” Jeonghan said, his high-tone pitch cutting through your act like it was nothing.

“I could leave,” Joshua offered simply.

You rolled your eyes. “Jeonghan shut up from now on,” you deadpanned.

Jeonghan made a face, like a kid who just broke a very expensive set of plates, with a downturned smile and eyebrows lifting on his face. “Got it,” he mumbled.

“No, Josh, you don’t have to leave,” you replied to him. “I was just telling Jeonghan what happened yesterday.”

Joshua narrowed his eyes slightly, catching Jeonghan’s suspicious expression before sitting down on the sand next to you, his body dripping water from head to toe. This was his life—mornings spent by the ocean, with sand between his toes. And his two best friends in the world, always bantering between each other.

“Ah, it was your mom’s thing, right,” he remembered, casting a look at you briefly, only to turn back to see the ocean. “How was it?”

Joshua pretended for a moment that he didn’t get Mingyu to invite him over at the very exclusive clubhouse yesterday just so he could do some water skiing, knowing full well that he could’ve just asked you instead.

You sat up on the towel with a tired sigh. “It was alright,” you said breezily, waving a hand.

“Pffft,” Jeonghan giggled, pretending to be looking at his phone. He lifted his eyes, finding you glaring at him once again. “What?” he mumbled, feigning ignorance.

You sighed out your annoyance, blinking it away as you found Joshua’s face. Droplets of water adorned his sun-kissed cheeks, his big brown eyes studying the weird atmosphere between Jeonghan, and you finally stopped at your face. “My mother’s having a party,” you grumbled.

Joshua frowned; his eyebrows had tiny specks of sand in them. “Uh… I know, she always does,” he replied, smiling as he waited for you to elaborate.

“So, um, she asked me if I’m bringing my boyfriend to her party since I haven’t introduced him to her,” you said, avoiding his gaze. You bit your bottom lip.

The frown on Joshua’s face deepened. “Boyfriend?”

Jeonghan stifled a giggle, which you tried your best to ignore, but all you wanted was to throw him the book you were holding. Instead, you copied Joshua’s pose, resting your elbows on top of your knees. “My mom thinks I’m still dating Seungcheol,” you mumbled.

“Seungcheol?!” Joshua spat, his tone rising. “That fucking prick?”

“Joshua!” you reproached. “He’s not a prick!”

There was a brief pause that Joshua left for you to keep talking because you licked your lips and drew in a breath, as though about to speak again, but when you didn’t say anything, he decided to ask. “Didn’t you stop dating Seungcheol like… months ago?”

Now it was Joshua’s turn to receive one of your glares. They failed to be severe; every time you did that, it reminded him of when you were a little girl, reproaching him and Jeonghan for whatever mischief they were up to at the moment.

“That was a year ago, Shua.”

“Mmmph,” that was all Joshua could muster.

A year ago, Joshua’s life looked very different. His destiny painted a married life, committed to his partner of years, April. A relationship that sucked everything and everyone out of his life, leaving him virtually stranded and directionless when suddenly it all came to an end. As a consequence, he missed out on a lot of things his friends did without him.

“So what, your mom thinks you’re still dating him? Why?”

“Because I didn’t tell her otherwise,” you scrunched your nose in utter shame.

“Why?” Joshua asked.

“Because I couldn’t,” you admitted, a defeated air about you as you dropped your gaze, burying your toes in the sand. “I’m tired of always having the talk, so I lied.”

The infamous talk. It usually began with a “honey, you should start reflecting about what you want in life.”

“Did you tell her you’re bringing Seungcheol to the party?” Joshua prodded, his heart skipping a beat when he thought that you might’ve dug yourself in a hole.

“No, I mean, yes, I mean–,” you cut yourself off. “My mother doesn’t know who I’m bringing to the party. She just knows I’m bringing my boyfriend.”

“But you don’t have a boyfriend,” Joshua muttered dumbly, noticing that the reason why he felt suffocated was because he feared what your answer might be.

A grin broke into Jeonghan’s facial features, an expression that Joshua knew all too well: it announced a plan that may or may not fall into mischief. This was Jeonghan’s modus operandi: start a fire, fan the flames, and then watch it burn from afar.

 “If only there was some guy that could pretend being a perfect boyfriend for over a weekend,” Jeonghan wondered, his tone rising in a dramatic one.

You frowned, sending a curious look at Jeonghan. “Right,” you blinked, your mouth parting in awe. “Oh, you’re right!” You gasped, turning to look at Joshua.

“I always am,” Jeonghan said between his teeth.

“Shua, you’re a guy!” you said excitedly, bumping his shoulder with yours to drag his curious eyes back to you.

“That is an obvious observation,” Joshua replied, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Where are you going with this?”

“Would you pretend to be my boyfriend for the weekend?” You asked, eyes shining at the prospect of finding a clever solution to this.

“Pretend to be your boyfriend?” Joshua parroted, blinking confusedly over the worst idea pitch he’s ever heard.

Joshua could see in your face how the crazy idea unfolded in your head. “Yeah, it’s crazy,” you shook your head lightly, giving him a look. “Forget it. I’ll probably just tell my mom that the thing with Seungcheol ended a year ago,” you sighed heavily, a sad smile painting the features of your face. “All this time she’s thought that I was dating someone; come to find out that her daughter is just as celibate as ever.”

Joshua considered your words, hearing the self-pity in them. For all the years he’s known you, he’s seen the pressure your parents exert on you, the sky-high expectations they set, and he’s also seen you reach every one of them. But ever since it struck your mother that you had reached an age where other things were expected of you, she hasn’t stopped nagging you. It always left you unhappy with yourself.

“I’ll do it,” Joshua said, his soft tone making you raise your eyes to find him. “I’ll go with you to the party,” he reassured, giving you a light smile.

“Really?” you asked, your tone rising in surprise. Your skin was glimmering under the sunlight, just like the smile that painted your face when he nodded.

“Sure, I mean,” Joshua sighed, casting a look at Jeonghan’s mischievous face. “What could harm could it do? I’d just have to stand there and make you look good, right? Plus, I get to help a friend.”

“Great!” you gasped delightfully, smiling through the gentle breeze that ruffled your hair all around you. “It’s a deal then,” you stood up grabbing your pretty beach dress. “I have to go, but I’ll text you the details about attire and everything.”

“The what?” Joshua blinked at you, feeling a little dazed from the thrill of a new experience.

You threw your pretty dress over your head, letting it fall down to your knees. “Yeah, mom is having a big party this time. She wants everything perfect and… well you know her,” you looked content as you sighed again, grabbing your sandals, shaking the sand in them. “Gotta go. See you, boys.”

Joshua watched you go, the gentle sway of your body as you went about through the sand. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“You said it,” Jeonghan replied. He had lowered his shades to see you walk away, so he was pushing them back on the bridge of his nose when Joshua looked at him. “You just have to look pretty, smile, and pretend to be the perfect boyfriend. Easy.”

“I didn’t say that,” Joshua replied, his tone flat, but a smile came to his lips.

“Yeah but it’s what you meant,” Jeonghan shifted on the lounge chair, stretching his legs with a tired groan. “She gets what she wants, and who knows, you’ll probably get something out of it too.”

Joshua stifled a laugh. “Like what?”

Jeonghan removed his shades, carefully folding them on his lap. “Like letting your ex know that you’ve moved on,” he replied matter-of-factly. “It is the perfect night for it, you know. A couple of pictures posted on social media, it’ll spread like wildfire.”

Joshua made a face, as though he had tasted something bitter. “I don’t want that,” he said, though his tone betrayed him, sounding insecure of his words. “I just want to help a friend, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah. The benevolent Joshua Hong at the rescue,” Jeonghan chanted, waving a hand dismissively. “You need a little revenge, my friend.”

Joshua scoffed at his best friend, dismissing the idea entirely. “I don’t want revenge,” he muttered, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about it.

It was as though Jeonghan had sparked the idea in his mind, and was waiting for the fuel. “Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that parading around with her—” he motioned a finger to the distance, referring to you. “—for the world to see is not a little bit of a power play?”

“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but the words rang hollow even to himself.

Deep down, he couldn’t help but imagine what his ex would think if she saw that Joshua was moving on. And not only that, but moving on with you. He wondered what she’d feel after cheating on him, only to see him some six months later, standing next to you so unbothered.

Joshua shook his head, shaken by the prospect of doing something so vile. “I’ve moved forward. And I don’t need to prove it to anyone,” he licked his lips, lowering his gaze to the sand covering his feet. “Not even April.”

Jeonghan chuckled, seeing that he’d clearly gotten into Joshua’s mind. “Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that, Shua.”

part two, fake it

“Are you sure about this?” Joshua asked, looking around the sleek, colorful, and stupidly expensive clothing shop. The kind of place people like you and him would find themselves shopping for clothes, though it didn’t happen as regularly for him as it did for you, or so he thought.

“Come on, it’s a cute idea,” you said, holding a matching pair of outfits for you and him to wear for your mother’s party.

The speakers played pop music, filling the air along with the low hum of conversations all around. Joshua had been following you through its mazes of clothes of all types for what felt like hours. He saw you sift through rows of beautiful dresses, skirts, and blouses, but never quite finding something that sated your eye.

Until you held up two matching outfits. One for you, one for him.

“You think it’s too much,” you said, lowering the pair of matching outfits with a deflated look in your eye.

“No, no I think it’s…” he started, knowing that look; the big eyes, the protruding lower lip that was beginning to transform into a pout. “I’ve never done something like this. Let’s do it.”

Joshua had agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend, and now he was standing there, trying to relax and appear effortless in front of you, as though starting to psych himself up for the big night, which was tomorrow.

“Good,” you said, biting your lower lip as you gave him a long look. “You know I wouldn’t want you to do something you don’t want to, right?”

Joshua blinked, a thought flashing in his mind. “Why do you say that?” he inquired, pronouncing each word slowly. “I told you I’d do it. I want to do it.”

You sighed tiredly. “Because this is crazy and you agreeing to it so easily makes me think that something bad is going to come out of it, you know?” you said, your words ringing with a mixture of desperation and shame.

Joshua laughed upon hearing your whines. “Relax,” he tilted his head to one side, grabbing the pair of outfits you’d picked. “Nothing bad is going to happen,” he gave you one look, studying you. “What could possibly happen?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled as he motioned for the dressing rooms. “I guess that this feels like it’s too good to be true, you know?”

Joshua snorted, his nose wrinkling as he smiled at you. “Dating me too good to be true, is that what you’re saying? Got it.”

“Shut up. And it’s the other way around, silly,” you sighed, a shy smile tugging at your lips. That was the girl Joshua’s always known. Shy, but never afraid to engage in something mischievous, like your brilliant plan of pretending to be a couple just to get your mother out of your hair.

“Yeah, because you’re a serial dater, right,” Joshua nodded at you, giggling softly when you bumped shoulders with him, affecting more your stability than his.

You stumbled slightly but stopped when you were at the entrance to the dressing room, holding a nice dress in your hand. “Stay here; I want your opinion on this,” you said, raising the hook, and signalling the dress before turning away from him.

“Okay,” Joshua said, leaning against the wall and pulling out his phone.

Some minutes later, you came out of the dressing room, wearing a pretty deep blue dress that accentuated your waist beautifully. You smoothed the silk over your tummy, checking yourself out on the large mirror before turning to him. “Well?” you asked, a flat expression on your face, one that covered a slight twinge of nervousness.

Joshua eyed his phone screen, trying his best to ignore that he got a glimpse of your exposed back when you turned away from the mirror. “You look alright,” he said, clearing out his hook loudly. He pocketed his phone and swallowed back a sigh. “You look—,”

“Alright?” you scoffed, turning to the mirror again. “I look amazing.”

Joshua smiled at you, sighing in the process because you had turned your back on him. He saw the way the dress hugged your waist, the way your back looked. “You look passable. You don’t look like a gremlin in her cage anymore,” he shrugged, trying not to laugh at the dignified expression on your face.

“Please, you’re lucky to have me as a girlfriend,” you deadpanned, twirling once more in front of the mirror.

Joshua just laughed, but he couldn’t ignore the feeling flickering in his chest when you caught the way was watching you through the mirror.

You would’ve said something, mock him about it. If only weren’t for the feeling flickering inside your chest. As well.

It was nothing, you tried convincing yourself. Push it down; you commanded yourself and ignored it.

For now.

The ride over the villa was quiet. It screamed something was brewing in here, and Joshua was not sure whether he should feel danger or not.

He’d offered himself to pick you up and drive to the villa that your mother rented for the weekend. Joshua thought that the idea of a cliffside villa was extravagant, and you seemed to think the same way too, by saying that it was exclusive and would have nowhere to run if you and him needed to—just in case everything went to complete hell.

You were only meant to spend the night of the party there. So you just packed a bag with everything essential, makeup remover, toothbrush, mouthwash, pjs, underwear and a change of clothing.

Joshua looked too calm and collected for your liking, because you were totally the opposite. He wore a pair of dark pants, and a black t-shirt that he meant to change into a dress shirt once he got to the destination. His slick brown hair was styled carefully, a single strand of hair hanging on the middle of his forehead perfectly.

You let out a loud sigh. “It’s not too late to turn the car around,” you muttered sullenly. “I could tell my boyfriend got into a car accident, or was abducted by aliens… or eaten by a troll.”

“Aliens don’t exist,” Joshua giggled merrily, glancing at your face while keeping the wheel steady with one hand.

“So you’re saying trolls do?” you retorted, smirking smugly at him.

“Yeah, I’m looking at one,” he pointed, laughing harder when you slapped his shoulder.

“Clown,” you muttered under your breath.

“You love me,” he said, flashing you what you called his shit eating grin.

“I tolerate you,” you pointed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua shook his head, pointing a finger at you. “No, no, you adore me,” he said playfully, shrugging with an effortless air around him. “Admit it. You’d be lost without me in this mischievous little plan of yours. Just admit it.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching to grab your tumbler that you had forgotten in the cup holder.

Joshua watched you sip from your green tea, which had gone cold, looking out the window as the car continued its smooth ascent up the road. Joshua’s phone, which was mounted on the dashboard of his BMW, estimated thirty minutes to arrive at the cliffside. “Hey,” Joshua called, dropping his foolish act at once. He used a hand to nudge at your knee, demanding your attention to him.

“Yeah?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your tone indicated that you hadn’t taken any offence from the playful banter, since this was the way you and him always behaved, since childhood.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone soft in a way that made your insides melt at once.

Your expression softened. “Yeah, I’m—,” you swallowed hard, the tension in your stomach wasn’t easing. The thought of stepping into your mom’s party was making you feel on edge, you could already imagine it, the scrutinizing stares, the subtle judgement, the backhanded comments. The endless reminders that you weren’t living up to the family name, to what your mother had already accomplished when she was your age.

“I just hate that I’m never going to be good enough for her, you know,” you sighed, dropping your gaze to your hands holding your tumbler. “And now I’ll have to perform in front of everyone to be perfect.”

Even if when you accomplished some things for yourself, it was never because of your own effort. Your success only happened because she aided it. That’s how your mom saw it, that’s how everyone at her party saw it too.  

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m here to make it all worse,” he grinned, trying to get that spark in your eyes again.

You resisted the urge of shoving his arm. “Shut up, Shua.”

He giggled softly, but then something about the gloomy look on your face pushed him to be serious. “Seriously. I get it,” he shrugged. Deep down, he felt what you were going through. Not living to everyone’s expectations was hard.

A long time ago, Joshua was decided to follow down a path that looked so different to where he was now. He was supposed to propose to April. Live a happy married life with her, until everything blew to ash, showing him what the reality was. No romance can truly blossom when both hearts have grown indifferent to it, no matter how hard you try.

Maybe that was why this whole plan of yours felt easier than it should have.

“So…” he crooned. “Are we talking about ground rules or are we just winging this?” he asked when the estimated time of arrival marked fifteen minutes.

“Ground rules,” you decided, nodding your head primly.

He smirked. “Good,” he said. “I don’t want you falling in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes so hard he almost saw them turn into white completely. “Right,” you huffed. “Because you’re the hottest one of us in this relationship.”

“Finally, a little bit of honesty,” he sighed, grinning widely.

You stared at him. “Rule number one, no touching.”

Joshua snorted. “Don’t you think that will decrease the chances of your mother believing this?”

“Right,” you sighed. “Hand holding is okay, I guess. You could put a hand on my waist, if we’re having trouble selling it.”

Joshua eyed you, trying to focus on the road ahead but the thought of putting a hand on your waist after seeing what you’ll wear on the party made him slightly dizzy. “Got it,” he muttered. “Pet names?”

“Uh, I’d rather vomit in my own mouth, thank you,” you scoffed, using a hand to toss your hair away from your shoulder. You looked at him through the corner of your eye. “No kissing either.”

“What, are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me or…” he joked, the smirk on his face deepening.

“Wipe that fucking smirk of your face, Hong,” you deadpanned. “And no, I’m more afraid I’ll be scarred for life.”

Joshua laughed, shaking his head lightly. “Okaaaay,” he rolled his eyes. “No kissing, no pet names. Anything else?”

You took a moment to think, racking your brain to remember what it felt like when you dated Seungcheol. You hated that he called you doll, or that he wanted to kiss you all the time and in front of everyone. And above all, you hated that after the thing crashed and burned, he was weird with his friends about it.

“Don’t be weird after this, please,” you said, your tone flat and your face serious. “This ends when the party does, alright?”

“Alright,” Joshua agreed effortlessly.

But you kept going. “I don’t want to find out that you’re telling other people about it in a weird way like that loser—,”

“I get it!” Joshua interrupted, laughing at the maniacal way you were talking. “No being weird about it.”

“Good,” you nodded, satisfied.

“That goes both ways, then,” he said.

“Obviously.”

Joshua tapped his thumbs on the wheel, his mind spinning with all the information he just got from you. No kissing, no touching, no being weird, he kept repeating to himself. “One more thing,” he started, trying to stay focused on the road. “What if a guy tries to hit on you in the party?”

“What do you mean?” you asked slowly, trying to decipher where he was going with it.

“Should I just stand back and let it happen? Or should I cut in and punch him?”

Your eyes widened at the thought of Joshua punching someone. “This isn’t some bar where you can start a brawl in!” You chastised, tone rising in exasperation.

“I’m only theorizing!” Joshua giggled. “What, would a perfect boyfriend just stand back and watch it happen?”

“No!” you replied with an obvious tone. “But do not start a fight at my mom’s party!”

“Then what should I do in that case?” Joshua retorted, already knowing his question was stupid.

“It’s fine if you act possessive, but no punches, okay?” you said.

Joshua shook his head again. “You’re unbelievable, woman,” he muttered.

“Joshua.”

He grinned. “Okay, okay,” he giggled in clear surrender.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw you sigh, a smile painting the pretty features of your face.

The villa your mother rented offered you a room with two large beds that connected through a large bathroom. The rooms were large, both had a balcony overlooking the cliff, the ocean stretching out to your view.

You were standing in front of a mirror, looking at yourself for the umpteenth time, it felt like. You wanted to look good, but not spectacular. You wanted to be seen, but at the same time you wanted to go unnoticed.

Through the mirror, you saw him peek through the crack of the door before softly knocking three times. “May I?” he called.

“Come in,” you replied, turning your back to the mirror to see him entering the room.

“Hey you,” he said, smoothing out his dress shirt and extending his arms at his sides as if presenting himself to you.

“Hey you,” you replied sweetly.

“Well?” he said, leaning against the door frame. “How do I look?”

Your heartbeat faltered. You had chosen a dress shirt that matched the color of your dress perfectly, thinking that you’d look good in that color. But what you hadn’t foreseen was that Joshua would go with that color perfectly. He looked gorgeous, hair slicked back, the upper buttons of the shirt undone, absentmindedly fixing the cuffs on his sleeves as you pretended to study him.

“You look fine,” you replied dismissively.

“Pfffft.”

You huffed in defeat. “You look handsome.”

“I know,” he showed you his infamous shit-eating grin, winking an eye at you. “Are you ready?”

You released a big sigh. “Just let me put on my shoes,” you said, sitting on the armchair pushed to the corner of the room.

Joshua saw you put on your high heels, the skirt of your dress hiking up your crossed legs as you buckled the belt around your ankles with delicate fingers. You stood up, walking up to him. His gaze flickered over you, just briefly, before he smirked, because you looked beautiful.

“Let’s go,” you said, not knowing what you saw in his eyes.

“Let’s go,” he replied, clearing his throat awkwardly.

The elevator ride to the ballroom was quiet, and this was the kind of quiet that neither you nor Joshua knew how to respond to. It didn’t scream danger, between you two, but at what expected both of you when you reached the floor.

Your stomach tightened as the elevator doors parted with the softest ding. “Okay,” you whispered to yourself. But then your breath caught, Joshua’s fingers slipped between yours, intertwining them like it was as natural as breathing to him.

You raised your gaze to look at him, his expression blank, almost as though he was stepping into a different man. But then he lowered his gaze at you, his brown eyes bringing you peace at once.

“Showtime,” you breathed.

He nodded at you, and you could’ve sworn in that moment—Joshua Hong looked nervous.

The ballroom was stupidly lavish, golden chandeliers filled with crystals, waiters in white gloves moving gracefully among the groups of guests, and a live band playing softly in the background. Everywhere you looked, you saw familiar faces: business magnates, celebrities, people my mother adored and people that you had spent years trying to avoid.

Joshua felt you tense up at his side, and he softly tugged your hand pulling you closer to his side as though saying, “Walk by my side,” when you started using him as a shield from the onlookers.

It worked, because when you started walking side by side with him, it was as if you had also stepped in a persona, same way that Joshua did before. His poise was elegant, carefully tailored to this world. He was perfect for this. And you better match up to that, you thought.

“What are we doing first, say hi to mom, or straight to the bar?” Joshua muttered at your side, his tone coated with the same playfulness as before.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his unseriousness. “I think first order of business has to be saying hi to mom,” you said, lifting your head to look at him.

Your stomach clenched again, because Joshua was giving you the most adoring look you had ever received in your life. Oh, he’s good at this, you thought, seeing his lips twitch in the tiniest of smiles.

“Don’t be smug about it,” you whispered, chastising him.

“What, I can’t have a little fun with this?” he asked, giggling softly as you huffed again.

“Oh, sweetheart!” your mother cooed in the distance, cutting what little hope you had of this plan going well, because you turned on your heels, nearly losing balance if it weren’t for Joshua holding you steady.

“Mom!” you gasped. “Hi!” you said, your tone unnaturally high.

Joshua tightened his grip on your hand slightly, as though commanding you to relax. And it worked, you released a breath, trying to expel your nervousness as best as you could.

Your mother approached, her heels clacking against the white marble floor. She opened her arms at you, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs when she pulled you into a hug. Your heartbeat raced as you released Joshua’s hand to clumsily wrap your arms around your mother.

“You look divine, baby,” your mom said, bringing a hand to pat the back of your head.

“Thanks, mom,” you replied, reveling in her approval.

“Oh, you must be the not-so-mystery man,” she released you from the warmest hug she’s ever given you, only to smile at Joshua and offer her hand at him. Which Joshua took, shaking hands primly with your mom.

“Happy birthday, ma’am,” he said smoothly, uttering your mother’s name as though he had asked you hours before, which he didn’t. “I hope that you still remember me; Joshua Hong,” he said, flashing a charming smile at her.

“And here I thought that you were committed to keep me in suspense forever. I stand corrected.,” she straightened her back, giving you a look that only made the hair of your arms stand. “But why did you omit that you were dating your dear friend Joshua?”

You showed her an unamused smile. “Surprise.”

“Well, I guess I'll just have to be content that my daughter isn't completely unapproachable,” she chuckled, covering her mouth with her gold-adorned fingers.

Joshua blinked, and he saw it. He saw the reason why you were so nervous. “With all due respect, ma’am,” he said, grabbing your hand and giving you another one of those adoring looks. “You raised the perfect woman.”

The air left your lungs, and you were pretty sure that Joshua felt your body shift beside him.

The smirk on your mother’s face erased completely, and then you knew she was getting a measure of the man that Joshua Hong was. “Oh?” she egged.

“I’m just lucky to have been chosen by her,” he said, and his words rang true to him somehow, even if this whole thing was fake, he was glad you had chosen him to do it.

You didn’t have the time to study his demeanour any further, because your mom smiled politely at him, and said. “You’re sweet,” she pointed, looking at you sternly. “Well, let’s hope it lasts.”

And then she walked away, waving at her guests and stopping by to hug those she adored, as though she hadn’t just given you a threat in front of everyone in the room.

You exhaled sharply, trying to swallow the rageful tears that had started brimming in your eyes. “God,” you gasped.

“Thar was…” Joshua started, at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

“My mom,” you said, looking up to the chandeliers above you to break the tears forming up. “That’s my mother.”

Joshua chewed on his bottom lip pensively, looking at you shake with so much anger you couldn’t even breathe steadily. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah, like three already,” you sighed, lowering your head to mask that you couldn’t fight your tears, which you brushed with the back of your finger swiftly.

“Hey,” he called softly, and you tilted your head back to look at him. “Keep your head up. Don’t let her see you cry. We’ll get through this, just stick to the plan.”

“Right,” you nodded, sniffling quietly. “Stick to the plan; drinks.”

Joshua sighed a smile, tugging at your hand to make sure you walked side by side with him. “Come on.”

“Do you think she bought it?” you asked when you reached the bar sitting on the stool clumsily.

Joshua watched you fight against the stool that couldn’t stop moving. “Stand up,” he muttered, sending a quick glance around the room.

You blinked dumbly, but lowered your feet to the ground. “What?” you asked curiously.

“Stand close to me,” he said, calling the barman while reaching to grab your waist.

Your breath hitched as you felt his warm, large hand slip on your waist effortlessly, the tips of his fingers reaching the exposed part of your back. “Why?” you asked, breathing fitfully.

He lowered his gaze to meet yours. “If you stick close to me, it’ll be easier to make people think we’re in love,” he muttered, his tone flat and his expression unreadable.

“Right,” you scoffed.

“Seriously,” he said. “Would you really like to stay away from someone you’re in love with?”

“Or,” you started. “This is your lame excuse to grab my waist.”

Joshua hummed in thought. “What if it is?” he said, the corner of his mouth curving slightly.

“God, Joshua!” you chastised, trying to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

“Stop that,” he hissed, keeping his expression smug. “We need to sell this, remember?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you gritted, looking around to check if someone had seen the exchange.

“Ridiculously brilliant, handsome, smart, hot,” he smirked, nodding at the barman who just approached. “One old fashioned for the lady, one whisky on the rocks for me,” he said, remembering your favorite drink.

“Huh,” you huffed, slightly amazed.

Joshua turned, winking at you. “Thank you sir,” he said, handing you the drink.

You ate the cherry first, swiftly picking it up from the pick with your tongue, knowing Joshua’s gaze was on you. You raised your eyes at him, drinking from your glass deeply.

“Cheers,” he shrugged, downing his drink in two gulps with a satisfied sigh.

“I think I need another,” you sighed, signaling the barman, which he replied to you with a nod of his head.

“Easy, we don’t want this to turn into Cabo again,” he muttered, reminiscing of the day you got so wasted you ended up dancing on top of the tables of a bar. Joshua had to carry you on his shoulder back to your hotel room.

“Cabo was fun, this is terrifying,” you replied. “And unlike you, I need to be drunk to do this.”

Joshua let out a chuckle. “Relax, we could just stick around for small talk for an hour or two, then we could act all lovey dovey on each other and pretend to scurry to our hotel room.”

Your tummy clenched. “God, I hate that idea,” you sighed, grabbing your second drink, eating the cherry first again.

“Or we could pretend to get in a couples’ argument, and then scurry back to our hotel room,” he offered his alternative with a smug look on his face, like he already knew what your answer would be.

“No,” you shook your head. “That would defeat the purpose of this stupid plan.”

Joshua scoffed. “This was your plan, sweetheart,” he muttered.

“Which means it’s only destined to crash and burn, like everything in my life,” you said through gritted teeth, right before tipping the glass in your mouth. You tried to ignore the affectionate name he called you, but you couldn't ignore the tingling in your face.

Joshua opened his mouth to say something, anything. A quippy retort, something sarcastic, anything. But the moment was stolen away from him swiftly.

“Is this… my favorite niece?” a man of thick voice said from behind.

You straightened up, almost choking on your drink before turning around and chant: “Uncle!”

Joshua stood back, watching you being pulled into a tight hug. The man you called uncle laughed merrily, swaying you back and forth as he hugged you tightly.

“Look at you. You’re gorgeous, my dear!” he said warmly. Sending a quick look at Joshua and then paused, noticing something. “And who’s this?” he asked you.

“Oh, thi-this is—,” you stammered awkwardly, looking at Joshua meaningfully. “My b-boyfriend, Joshua.”

Joshua offered a hand. “Joshua Hong, sir. Pleasure to meet you,” he smiled, bowing his head politely.

Your uncle stretched hands with Joshua, while squinting his eyes at him slightly. “Have I seen you somewhere?” he looked at you. “I feel like I’ve seen his face somewhere.”

“Probably on TV, uncle,” you smiled at Joshua.

Your uncle arched one of his unkept eyebrows.

“I’m a professional surfer, sir,” he complemented. “I competed last year.”

“He won bronze,” you added, a proud smile on your face which made Joshua’s tummy twist.

“Oh, yes, yes I think that might be it,” he said, still eyeing Joshua suspiciously.

But Joshua, he played it cool. He stood still, offering one of his small but charming smiles. Like he’d had this conversation a million times.

“Well,” your uncle finally said, scratching his chin. “I can’t say I’m the expert in surfing, but I know it takes a lot of balance,” His gaze drifted briefly to you and then back to Joshua. “You got good balance, son?”

Joshua didn't miss a beat. “I do what I can,” he said, flashing an unfazed smile. “Haven’t slipped in years, sir.”

Your uncle let out a gruff chuckle. “That’s good to hear. Wouldn’t want you slipping up, son.”

You felt Joshua tense up beside you, but he kept himself at ease, slipping a hand on your waist again. “Don’t worry, sir,” he said, tugging your body closer to his. “I do the best I can.”

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, content with Joshua’s responses. He nodded and excused himself, walking through the sea of your mother’s guests until you lost sight of him.

“Was I just threatened?” he sighed, starting to laugh nervously.

“Yeah, kinda,” you gave him a pitiful smile. “But if it makes it better, that just says that he liked you. Imagine how he treated the guys he didn’t like.”

“So I got his approval through light intimidation?” he huffed, amazed by how he was being received in your family as your fake boyfriend. “Huh.”

“Yeah, don’t get too comfortable.”

But Joshua felt his own smile fade, his eyes lingering on your face for a long second. He breathed out, trying to hold a rein to his body but failing miserably, his hand slipping from your waist to your lower back, feeling the skin that wasn’t covered by your pretty dress.

He wondered why he already felt too comfortable. But he couldn’t find any answers, not even in your eyes, which widened as you felt his hand on your skin, igniting every single inch inside you.

You coughed. “Josh, hands off,” you snapped.

He quickly dropped his hand, tucking it inside the pocket of his pants. He ordered another drink, trying to push down the pulsating feeling inside his chest.  

But you, on the other hand, knew that you were doomed. As soon as Joshua’s hand came in contact with your lower back, you felt it, your pulse quickened, your skin heated up. Not only that, but his fingers had brushed against your skin, and you couldn’t help but think of his hands, his long and round fingers, the veins that trail from his knuckles to the rest of his arms. His wrist was adorned with a Rolex watch, and the other with a silver bracelet, one that he had gifted himself on one of his birthdays.

You were doomed, because in the blink of an eye, you saw his hands on you, grabbing your body, touching your skin.

You ordered another drink, ignoring the look that Joshua gave you. “I can’t do this sober,” you sighed, avoiding his knowing gaze.

The night dragged on. And the snappy attitude on your part had begun to fade, to the point where you decided to stop drinking and focus on getting back to your room in one piece. But that wasn't all.

Joshua had kept a firm hand on your waist, only shifting it to grab your hand to keep you from returning to the bar and ask for another drink. It wasn’t that he was cutting your fun, you noticed that he was offering himself as an anchor for you to keep yourself afloat.

Ever the benevolent hero, his thoughts echoed Jeonghan’s words. It almost felt like he heard Jeonghan say them forever ago.

“Hey,” Joshua muttered, calling your attention with a soft pinch to your chin. “All sobered up now?”

You blinked dumbly at him, a slow smile stretching on your lips. “Yeah, why?” you drawled.

Joshua smirked knowingly. “Oh, yeah you’re all sobered up now.”

“Just give me ten minutes,” you giggled shamefully, clearly still tipsy but lucid enough to walk and talk.

Joshua sent a glance across the room, finding your mom’s eyes on him. He smiled at her politely, leaning down to press his lips on your hairline. “Your mom’s been looking at us the whole night,” he muttered, closing his eyes briefly.

“Yeah, I don’t think she believed I’ve been dating my best friend this whole time without telling her,” you mumbled, running your hands down his linen shirt, feeling his hard chest without much thought. “It’s okay, this was probably doomed to fail since the start.”

Joshua stopped leaning, pulling back just to get a sight of your face. “Damn. I’m doing a terrible job as a boyfriend,” he giggled softly.

“Yeah, you’re fired,” you said, giggling with him. The sound did nothing to remedy the tight feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach.

He swallowed, the bubbly sound of your laughter created a deep blow to his chest, it screamed danger. This was supposed to be an easy experiment: come with you to the party, hold your hand and smile. That was it, easy, smooth, fake. But now, leaning towards your face, he couldn’t help but think that what he felt was real.

“What can I do to earn my job back?” he said, but the risqué in his demeanour waned. His tone came out soft, like dulled by something he couldn’t quite place.

The smile on your face faltered, but just for a second. You wanted to believe the spark that you saw in Joshua’s eyes, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. This was just his way to flirt, to have you all flustered—by the end of tonight it wouldn’t mean a thing.

“You can keep your job for tonight, Hong,” you replied, and he was glad to know that whatever had robbed him of his voice, it had robbed you of yours too.

But Joshua wasn’t backing down, he needed you to see the urgency brimming inside him, the please tell me you’re feeling this too, look in your eyes. But you were smirking at him, the playfulness in your eye told him you weren’t seeing what he wanted to tell you without words. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Your breath coiled around your throat, your eyes widening with shock. You read his face, over and over, beginning to understand that maybe your hopes weren’t misplaced. “Yes,” you whispered, eyeing his lips briefly. “Kiss me.”

Joshua didn’t think twice, he dipped his head to meet your lips with his own. Kissing you was just as easy as pretending to be your boyfriend, he found out. Your cherry lips were soft, warm, everything he imagined them to be. The way your lips fit into his own, moving seamlessly in a soft kiss—it was real.

There was a brief pause, but neither you nor Joshua dared to back away. Lips lingered touching, your breath warm in his mouth, he could taste the cherry, the sweet and sour whiskey. It was intoxicating.

He dove for another kiss at the same time you did, a small hum bubbling in your mouth. This kiss was harder, hotter, demanding for something that Joshua was eager to give you: passion, pleasure, his whole and undivided attention.

“I must admit,” you hummed softly, backing away slightly, looking at his eyes and then his lips, wet with your drool and his. “Breaking rules feels awesome.”

Joshua smiled, slipping a hand on your nape, his fingers tangling in your mane of hair. “And you haven’t seen anything yet.”

You were surprised when the next kiss was softer, his lips pressing on yours gently with small pecks. It quickly got you drunk, and not the kind that made you say stupid things, but the kind that made you do stupid things. Warmth started sizzling under your skin, as Joshua kissed your bottom lip softly.

But your aching feet betrayed you, making you stumble back clumsily. Joshua quickly put his hand on your lower back to keep you from stumbling further, he pulled back, reading your face expertly.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Joshua whispered, reaching to grab you hand, calling it a night.

Your heart faltered, but you followed him obediently. “Yeah, okay,” you replied, walking clumsily on your sore feet.

As you walked inside the elevator, you caught your mother’s eye. In the distance, you could see a tiny smirk on her face, giving you a knowing look, and before you could dwell on the moment, the elevator doors closed.

The villa had grown quiet, now that it was past midnight and mostly all of the rooms were booked by the people back in the ballroom. Joshua was still firmly holding your hand, like he was pretending to be your boyfriend until the end of the night, just as planned.

His slick and carefully tailored demeanor had unravelled a little, he had rolled up his sleeves, the top buttons of his shirt undone. But his hair had remained perfectly done, even though he had ruffled it throughout the night many times.

You felt like you were the opposite to what he showed. Your feet ached, your hair had lost its composure somewhere along the night, and your whole body felt heavy with exhaustion, but you carried the heaviest weight in your heart.

Because you didn’t want the night to end. Even though you had gritted your teeth through most of the night, his hand on yours was the best thing of it.

Joshua reached for the doorknob, and you swore he felt you take in a deep gulp of air. Because he turned, smirking at you. “Do you need me to tuck you in, or you got it?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that drunk anymore,” you said with a sigh.

But Joshua didn’t let go of your hand, not even as he led you inside the room. “If you say so.”

And for a moment, you two stood there, in front of the doors that separated the bedrooms. Joshua saw you, missing an opportunity to kiss you again with every second that went by. He breathed in, his heart beating fast—faster than ever before.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” he asked one more time, searching your eyes.

“I can manage,” you replied, swallowing hard to push down that feeling. “But I’ll leave the door open.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he whispered.

And then, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, right before letting go.

part three, did we make it?  

You lay in bed, covered with the sheets up to your nose, your head spinning, but not from the alcohol. You stared at the ceiling, thinking about what had happened at the party.

You replayed every moment in your head, thinking of the way Joshua played his role so naturally. The way he grabbed your hand effortlessly, when he told your mother you were the perfect woman, every time he looked adoringly at you.

Your chest tightened. It was over, the night was over, so your little plan had also come to an end. But you couldn’t help but wish that the night had been endless.

You had broken one rule, no kissing. You scoffed quietly at yourself. You had been so adamant to keep him at arm’s length that you didn’t realize that you had been playing yourself until it was too late.

You let out a slow breath, rolling onto your side, staring at the empty bed across the room.

You felt ridiculous. You had dragged Joshua into this stupid mess, none of this would’ve happened if you had kept your mouth shut and told your mother the truth to begin with. These feelings you tried so hard to push down, would’ve never had bloom if you had.

But just as you closed your eyes, commanding yourself to surrender to sleep, one memory lingered. His hands on you, his lips as he kissed you.

You weren’t just thinking about Joshua.

You needed him.

And that was far more dangerous than anything your little plan could’ve thrown at you.

You sighed, tossing the bed covers aside and pushed yourself out of the bed, silently making your way to Joshua’s door, which remained half closed. Heart pulsating on your temples, you pushed the door open, the hinges humming softly making your pulse worsen.

You held your breath, trying to see through the dark if he had fallen asleep, or if you had woken him up with the noise. But couldn’t get anything, so you pushed the door further, letting yourself in his room, and thus releasing all self-control you had in you.

Joshua turned on the bed, pushing himself on his elbows just as you climbed on top of him, holding onto his shoulders just as he eased his back on the mattress, welcoming you on top of him with his hands.

“Hey, you,” he whispered, grabbing you by the waist.

“Hey, you,” you replied with a shaky tone.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, but placed two fingers on your chin, pinching it softly right before he pulled you for a quick kiss.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you blurted, slipping your lips between his.

Joshua could’ve sworn that he had never been more pleased to hear those words. He let out a sigh of amazement, squeezing your waist with his hand, feeling the silk of your nightgown. “Oh, yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth right before sitting up on the bed, with you straddling his lap.

“Yeah,” you sighed sweetly, tipping your head back as he kissed the underside of your jaw.

“That’s good to hear,” he purred against your skin, pressing his lips on your neck, loving the way you instantly tensed up on top of him.

“Why?” you asked, eyelids fluttering wildly as he continued kissing down your neck.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he smiled against your skin.

“Really?” you asked, your tone sweet and high and completely foreign to you.

Joshua nodded, closing his eyes when he got the scent of your skin as his kisses travelled farther down your neck. “Did you really think that I was just playing?”

You pushed his shoulder with one hand, creating some distance to get a read on his face. “What?”

Joshua looked at you, and with one look, you swore that he saw through you. His dark eyes swam all over your face, but then steadied as he let out a breath slowly. “You heard me,” he said, his tone low.

Something sharp shot inside you. “Joshua, don’t—,”

“Don’t what?” he said, his hands steady on your waist. “Don’t say it? Is your game alright for you as long as I don’t say anything?” he read your face again, a smile tugging at his lips. “Or don’t say it because you don’t want to admit that you feel something too?”

Your heart pounded so hard you felt it in your head.

You sighed defeatedly, leaning your forehead against his. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” you whispered.

“Right,” he gritted, his voice weakening now. “Because this can’t be real as long as you command it.”

“It’s not real,” you swallowed. “We’re drunk, and have been flirting all night.”

“Maybe it’s just not real to you,” he whispered, easing his grip on your waist.

Your heart faltered, and you pulled back again to be met with his sullen expression. “Joshua–,”

“What are you so scared of?” he asked, his eyes reading your face over and over again.

“I’m not scared, I–,”

As soon as his hand came to cup your cheek, you choked on your words. He smiled, knowing that it was a game lost. “This can’t be real,” you swallowed hard again. “You’re my best friend. I can’t lose you if all this fails.”

“You prepare yourself for failure before you even give it a chance to happen,” he muttered, the hurt on his face vanishing once he felt your body ease on top of him, as though you were melting under his touch.

“I can’t help it,” you sighed, using your hands to cup his face, pressing your forehead against his.

“You can’t help it, or you just don’t want to?” he murmured, his honeyed tone purring in your ear.

“I don’t know how to do it,” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get rid of the nasty feeling coiling around your heart.

“Then let me help,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched. You only needed to say yes, to believe him. It all seemed so good to be true. Your best friend, the man that made you feel special, the most special you had ever felt to someone in your whole life.

But you only needed to listen to your body. It was as though you wanted to lean into his warmth and get lost in his eyes forever. It felt so safe to be close to him, to have his touch in your body.

So you just dipped your head in, pressing your lips on his.

“Yes?” he breathed.

“Yes,” you replied.

Because for the first time in forever, you wanted to.

Joshua kissed you harder, now forgetting about keeping his touch light. His lips moved seamlessly on yours, while keeping a hand on your waist and returning the other to cup your cheek.

His heart was pounding inside him, feeling elated as he paused for air. “Can I take this off?” he sighed, his tone raspy.

“Yes, please,” you replied with a breathy tone.

His hands moved the skirt of the nightgown up, touching your body freely as he got rid of the only piece of clothing aside from your panties that covered your beautiful skin. As his eyes skirted over the curves of your bare body, his mind spun, making him feel dizzy.

You grabbed his face, commanding his eyes on yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

You giggled, his words making your heart squeeze. “Thank you, Shua.”

“I meant what I said earlier,” he mumbled. “I’m lucky to be chosen by you.”

He didn’t give you time to say anything, because he was pushing your body on the mattress, climbing on top of you effortlessly.

You gasped. The smell of his skin, his hair, his warmth, everything invaded you. It was intoxicating. “Shua.”

Joshua gave you a hot kiss, one that told his aching need for you. It was passionate, and wet, his tongue swiftly rolled inside your mouth, making you moan into the kiss. “Can I eat you out?” he asked, his tone gruff and low.

“God, yes,” you replied with a soft sigh. “Please.”

“Mmn, you do have manners after all,” he quipped with a light smirk.

“Shut up,” you said, but couldn’t come up with a wittier retort.

And he noticed. With a laugh, he gave you another light kiss, using a hand to part your legs so he could slot himself in between them. “You’re a spoiled, prideful brat,” he sighed, kissing the apple of your cheek.

“You love me,” you retorted.

Joshua laughed, hearing the familiarity in your words. “I tolerate you.”

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you gasped exasperatedly.

Joshua complied silently, sinking down your body, peppering it with kisses as he reached your tits, his hands caressing your skin as he explored it carefully.

Your back tensed up. “Fuck,” you whispered to yourself when he wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, humming as his tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it softly. “Shua,” you called.

“Yeah?” he replied, lifting his head from your tits, looking at you adoringly again.

Your heart clenched, but you ran a hand through his hair. “Play later,” you pleaded.

“Foreplay is the best part of it,” he teased, giggling as you glared at him. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, tugging at your panties with his fingers.

You helped him get rid of your panties, lifting your hips off the mattress as his knuckles caressed your legs, making your skin prickle.

Joshua wasted no time, burying his head between your legs to pepper your inner thighs with wet kisses. The feeling was like no other, pleasure spiked between your legs, his lips touching your skin felt electrifying.

“Shua,” you pressured, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair.  

He replied with a small smile, pressing a kiss on your pussy without removing his gaze from yours. You blinked repeatedly, letting out a small sound through your parted lips. “Do you like that?” he asked softly.

“Mm-huh,” you nodded with your head, catching the smirk on his face before he placed another kiss on your pussy lips.

Joshua slid the tip of his pointer finger between your pussy lips, shuddering when he felt the warmth and the arousal pooling in your entrance. “Stay still,” he whispered when your hips buckled slightly before you could command your body to a halt.

“Okay, okay,” you replied in kind, offering him a meek smile, your mouth dropping when he licked a stripe on your pussy lips, using his fingers to part them for his tongue, pushing it between your folds.

He enjoyed the loud sound of your gasp, your fingers slipping to grab his hair, following the motion of his head buried between your legs. “Joshua,” you moaned lewdly as he moved the middle and ring fingers that kept your pussy lips spread for his mouth, slipping them inside you. “Fuck!”

You realized that he wanted to pleasure you to reach your high quickly, his fingers thrusting inside you with a slow motion at first, exploring you, searching for what brought a louder reaction out of you.

The sound of your moans filled the room. Echoed by the smacking sounds of his mouth on your pussy as he continued making out with it, getting your clit to swell on his tongue and your walls to clamp around his fingers.

Instinctively, you curved your back, pushing your hips up, your cunt tightly pressed to his face. He groaned, sliding his free hand on your thigh, grabbing you tightly to keep you spread open for his mouth.  

“Josh,” you called, your fingers threading his soft hair. “Please…” you whispered, but did not know what you were begging for. The tip of his tongue drew perfect circles around your clit, teasing it lovingly, his long fingers thrusting slowly inside you.

You could not see his face, but you were certain that Joshua smiled when you called him by that name. His amused hum told you that much. But then everything changed, the motion of his tongue switched, darting from side to side, his fingers curling in a perfect spot in your walls, now fucking you relentlessly.

You pushed your head back onto the pillows. “Fuck-k,” you gritted, swallowing hard. You could feel your orgasm, taste it as sweet pleasure brimmed inside you. A hand kept you in place, while the other was busy thrusting two fingers inside you, curling them to tease a sensitive spot in your walls.

“I’m cumming,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if Joshua had heard you at all. You arched your back on the bed, while tiny, strangled sounds came out of you. Your high hit you so hard that your mind went blank, all that you could focus on was his tongue on your clit, his fingers massaging inside you.

You eased back onto the bed, sighing and moaning, babbling incoherences as Joshua kissed and nipped at your inner thighs, giggling softly when your body twitched under him.

“Hey, you,” he whispered, climbing back on top of you, kissing your face.

You sighed tiredly, opening your eyes to see his face. “Hey, you,” you replied, wiping the wetness off his chin before kissing his lips. “That was amazing.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he whispered, responding to your every kiss with light lips. “Do you want more?”

You shook your head. “I need you,” you replied.

Joshua paused to read your face. “Sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, encircling his neck with your arms. Not liking the unsure look on his face, you added: “I’m on birth control, Shua.”

He had gone still, but only to consider what this meant for him. It had been so long since he’d felt something like this for someone, the adrenaline, the high of being so close to someone. As close as humanly possible.

“Okay,” he replied, kissing your lips once, then the tip of your nose as your hands search for the waistband his boxers.

Joshua helped your trembling hands get rid of his underwear, pushing it down to reveal his cock. He was fully hard, the rosy-brown tip of his cock leaking with precum. You rolled a hand on his thick and long shaft, feeling the veins tracing down from his cockhead to the base. “You’re big,” you sighed, giggling nervously.

He had nothing to reply, as soon as your hand came in contact with his body, he’d lost all sanity, all self-control flew out the window. He swallowed hard, feeling your hand squeeze around his shaft, rolling it on his cockhead and smearing precum all over his thick shaft.

He pressed his forehead to yours, placing his hands above your head, framing it as he lowered his hips on top of yours. “Play later, baby,” he said, his tone gruff and waning at the last word he uttered.

Your breath hitched. “Pet names,” you whispered.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he smirked, leaning to kiss you swiftly.

You did, you loved everything. Every single rule you set, and broke showed you just how much you loved it: being called names, kissing, touching, everything.

Joshua noticed that you had choked on your words too, and he smiled at you as he pressed his naked body on yours. You guided his cock between your folds, gasping slightly when you slipped his cockhead inside you and he just started pushing in, easing in himself slowly.

Your mouth parted, eyes watering instantly at the intrusion. But it felt so good, the stretch, the thickness of him, every single naked inch inside you. Your hands flew to grab at his shoulders, back tensing on the mattress, as you gasped again.

“Relax,” he whispered, kissing your cheek adoringly.

“Josh,” you called breathily, trying to tell him to continue, to never stop.

You heard him breathe fitfully once he sheathed himself completely. “You’re perfect,” he praised, burying his face on the crook of your neck, getting drunk on the smell of your hair.

He started moving his hips, thrusting his cock in and out with a steady pace. The sound of his ragged breaths was distracting, almost alluring to you. But Joshua rolled his hips on yours, his cock massaging your walls the same way his fingers had, eliciting a raw moan from you.

“You like that?” he whispered.

You could only reply with a nod.

“Okay,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek, then your collarone, continuing to roll his hips in that same motion, the tip of his cock kissing a spot inside you that made you see stars, and your fingers curl.

“Fuck, Josh, please… don’t stop,” you pleaded with a breathy tone. And he was more than eager to please, only to hear you call out his name like that again, to feel your pussy clench around him.

The air was quickly filled with the sound of your moans, the tiny gasps that came out of you as Joshua fucked you the way that you wanted. His cock massaged your walls so deliriously good that you could feel yourself inching closer to your release.

“Fuck,” Joshua breathed, his lips caressing your earlobe. “Where do you want me, baby?”

Your thighs tensed up at his sides instantly. “Inside,” you gasped, tightening your grip on his shoulders. “Please cum inside me, Josh.”

Joshua gritted his teeth, letting out a strangled sound through them. The thought of spilling himself inside you might’ve sent him to a frenzy. All he could think of was filling you up, but he kept himself sane through the movement of his hips, getting you to your high before he reached his.

“Fuck, please, please,” he drawled lazily, muffling a moan in the crook of your neck.

You kissed his shoulder, moving your hands on his back as you let yourself go. You closed your eyes, letting out soft moans as a wave of sweet pleasure washed over you.

Then Joshua moved his hips faster, his fingers curling on the pillowcases, anchoring himself to them as he started plunging his cock in and out of you. He was quickly getting lost in the warmth of your pussy, the wetness, your smell, and the sweet sounds you made.

“You feel amazing,” he whispered, closing his eyes tightly, trying not to lose himself on you completely just yet. So he rolled on the bed, expertly shifting positions so you now sat on top of him, keeping you steady with his hand on your waist.

You understood immediately, using a hand to grab his cock, wet and glistening with your arousal and slipped it inside with a pleased moan. You tilted your head back, blissfully riding him with a steady pace of your hips on him.

Joshua saw your body bouncing softly on him—your head tilted back, your hands placed on your thighs, rolling your hips in a way that he got to see his cock slipping back inside your pussy. He swallowed a moan, closing his eyes briefly to not lose control too quickly.

But it was impossible. The room was flooded with the sounds of sex, your soft and whiny moans, the squelching sound of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy, his own strangled moans… it was getting harder and harder for him to hold onto sanity.

You placed a hand on the pillow, right beside his head, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on his chin, then on his lips. The sway of your hips paused briefly, making him groan, desperate for release.

You smiled at him. “I think I’d never seen you this quiet,” you pointed cheekily.

Joshua chuckled, lifting a hand from your waist and landing it on the side of your thigh with a firm spank.

You squeaked, hips buckling on top of him. “Fuck,” you choked out, closing your eyes tightly.

He moved his hands on your hips, guiding them in a way that he felt himself slipping in and out of your pussy again. “That’s it,” he crooned, looking at you bounce on his cock in the motion that he’d taught you. “Good girl.”

“Fuck,” you cried lewdly. “Josh!”

Joshua grinned, his hands following the movement of your hips on him as he tipped his head back on the pillow, spilling himself inside you with a series of raunchy moans. He looked at your face as you rode him until he was spent, and delirious with what you and he had just done.

You breathed raggedly, returning the smile as though you could hear his thoughts. You collapsed on the bed beside him, keeping an eye on the features of his face, which were masked by a stupor that had started to set in.

“So much for ground rules,” you sighed.

“Yeah,” Joshua drawled. Blinking lazily at you right before he reached for your hand with his, taking it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

You smiled softly at him, watching sleep claim him with every blinking of his eyes until he started to breathe deeply, finally asleep beside you. As the time went on, you debated whether returning to your bed or stay in his. What finally made the decision for you, was Joshua’s arms wrapping you into a hug.

So you stayed, sleeping blissfully in his embrace.

epilogue

It had been a while since someone truly saw him for who he was. A friend, a warm person you can talk to, trustworthy. It felt like his true self was buried underneath the burden of shame, the ickiness of being looked at and think that he had been somebody’s fool.

Joshua brought his fist and knocked on your apartment door, once, twice. Waited.

His stomach clenched at the sound of the front door of your apartment click, and then open. Slowly, you stepped out, curiously looking up at him. “Hey, you,” you said sweetly, leaning against the doorframe.

Joshua smiled at you, feeling his body relax at once. “Hey, you,” he said, nervously approaching towards you. “Can we talk?”

You read his face before nodding. “Sure,” you replied, letting him in.

It had been a while since you had let someone see you for who you were. But it was something you had to have seen it coming. Joshua was after all, the person who knew you best. And you were more than ready to see where your story with him would go. 

› author's note: this felt like city lights in so many levels omg. i loved writing this. if there are mistakes, it's because i wrote about 7k words of this fic in one day lol

toodles!

READ MORE | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

© TO HANNIEWEEN — I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[sturnioz]

‘RIDE.’ — CHRIS STURNIOLO

pairing. chris sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut, friends with benefits au.

word count. 3.4k

❝you can wear the hat and you can ride me.❞

content warning. friends with benefits, friends to potential lovers, explicit content, porn with some plot, teasing, unprotected sex, riding, light dirty talk, light mentions of hair pulling, creampies.

“Don’t leave—can’t leave. Not yet.” Chris mouths against your neck with what almost sounds like a whine, locking his arm around your waist to pull you flush against his chest as he rubs slow, deliberate circles into your back.

What was supposed to be a simple Friday hangout with your friend with benefits had spiraled into a full weekend together. Friday afternoon bled into Friday night, and before you knew it, Saturday had come and gone just as quickly. Now it’s Sunday morning, and the last two days feel like a blur of messy kisses, tangled sheets, lingering touches and midnight drives for greasy takeout.

You hadn’t intended to stay this long—not that you’re complaining.

You’d even tried to leave Friday night as planned, but Chris had other ideas; he begged and pleaded, wrapping himself around you like a vice, coaxing you to stay just a little longer—much like he’s doing now.

“I can’t stay,” you say, a soft laugh escaping as you squirm away from his persistent touch. “You’ve had me all weekend… don’t be greedy.”

“I am greedy,” Chris counters, his lips curling into a playful grin as he presses a kiss to your neck, his mouth lingering on your skin, warm and inviting, while his arms hold you stubbornly in place. His fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, gripping it like it’s the only thing tethering you to him. “Y’know if you stay, I could make you breakfast…”

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a sceptical look. “When have you ever made breakfast?”

Chris lets out a dramatic huff against your neck, his breath warm and just the slightest bit damp against your skin from the proximity. Clearly, he’s not above pulling out his most effective strategy: guilt-tripping.

His chin settles against the curve of your shoulder, and his hand continues its soothing path along your side, his thumb brushing idly over the bare sliver of skin just below the hem of your shirt.

“Please just stay?” he whispers, his voice soft but insistent.

“You’ve already had me for the weekend,” you repeat with a light tone as you manage to slip from his arms to settle onto your knees, shifting comfortably in the rumpled sheets to face him and offering him a soft smile.

Chris lets out a low whine of protest at your movement, but despite his best attempt to sulk at you, his gaze betrays him. His eyes roam over you, lingering on the bare skin of your thighs peeking out from beneath the hem of his shorts—the same pair he insisted you borrow when your own clothes became less practical over the weekend.

It’s a sight he definitely doesn’t mind, and judging by the way his lips curl into a faint smirk, his mind is already wandering to places that make you roll your eyes playfully.

Propping himself up, he leans back against his bed, his weight resting on his hands as he arches a brow at you, “... So?”

“So… no.” you simply reply, your smile widening as you meet his gaze.

The pout that spreads across his face is instant and very dramatic—but genuine. He shifts again, this time sitting up fully so he can properly look at you, his expression bordering on desperate as he tries again. 

“Please?” he asks, and his tone is far more whinier than normal, but he is trying to convince you to stay. “Please, please, please…?”

He reaches for you, his fingers curling into the hem of your shirt and giving it a few insistent tugs in an attempt to pull you closer.

“C’mon…” he coaxes, his tone softening just a little as he tilts his head and looks at you with those annoyingly irresistible puppy eyes. “One more night won’t hurt, yeah? You’re being mean…” 

“I like being mean,” you tease with a smirk, clearly trying to get under his skin. But the smug look on your face is short lived as a surprised squeal escapes your lips when Chris growls—a low, playful snarl—before he suddenly lunges forward. He pounces on you with zero hesitation, rolling you onto the bed until you’re firmly beneath him.

His weight presses you into the mattress, his body caging yours with ease. A wide grin spreads across his flushed face, a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he pins your wrists above your head, holding you in place. Your giggles spill out uncontrollably, and his knee nudges between your thighs, keeping you from squirming away.

“I forgot how much of a brat you are,” he murmurs with a click of his tongue in mock disappointment. He leans down, his lips brushing against yours before capturing them fully in a kiss that’s both firm and playful. Your giggles fade into the kiss, a noise vibrating in your throat when you feel his teeth tug gently at your bottom lip.

But you’re not one to let him win for long.

You pull back just enough to give him a look—one that makes his brow arch in curiosity. His grip on your wrists doesn’t loosen up as he tilts his head slightly, studying your expression.

“Why you lookin’ at me like that?”

“I’ll stay,” you begin, drawing it out just enough to keep his attention, “on one condition.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “Which is?”

Your gaze flicks upward, landing on the red backward cap perched on his messy hair. “You let me wear the hat.”

There’s a beat of silence as your words sink in. Then, his expression shifts so dramatically it’s almost comical. He stares at you like you’ve just insulted his entire existence, the disbelief in his face is palpable, and his jaw drops slightly before snapping shut. 

“No,” he says flatly, shaking his head, the corners of his mouth tug downward in a stubborn pout. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” you ask, your tone light but challenging as you look at him.

“... It’s mine.” Chris replies, his voice firm, as if that’s enough of a reason—and to him, it is.

His hats are practically an extension of himself—he rarely goes a day without wearing one, and the idea of letting you wear it feels strange, like he’s going to be handing over a piece of his soul.

He gets defensive just thinking about it.

“Dramatic,” you scoff teasingly, rolling your eyes as you slip your wrists free from his grasp, and with a playful shove to his chest, you push him back onto the mattress, watching as he flops down beside you. “I was going to wear the hat while I ride you, but… never mind.”

Your words are casual, almost dismissive, but they hang heavy in the air and Chris freezes, his flushed face slowly turning toward you in stunned silence. The dumbfounded look he gives you is priceless—his mouth opening slightly, like he’s not entirely sure he heard you right.

The disbelief quickly shifts into irritation… and then something far more heated.

His eyes narrow, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head and he glances up at the ceiling for a moment, as if he’s trying to compose himself, but it’s no use.

His head snaps toward you once again, his voice a little rushed, almost panicked. “Hey—hey… no need to be hasty—”

“Nope.” you cut him off, your tone dead serious, though the teasing glint in your eyes betrays you. You shift away from him, making a show of ignoring him even as he scrambles to pull you back.

“C’mon…” he groans, reaching for your arm, his fingers brushing against your skin. “You can’t just say somethin’ like that and then—”

“I can,” you interrupt, biting back a grin as you keep up the act. “Mood’s ruined.”

“Hey…” he whines, shifting on the bed as he leans over your body, trying to catch your gaze. His expression softens into something resembling desperation, his lips pulling into a slight pout as he frowns. “I don’t think the mood is ruined yet.”

“Yet?” you repeat, sitting up in bed to face him completely, amusement dancing in your eyes as you tilt your head. “Are you telling me the mood’s going to be ruined eventually?”

Chris’ lips twitch into a lopsided, a quiet huff of laughter escaping as he moves in closer, kneeling between your thighs. “I was goin’ to say the mood would be ruined if you actually ignored me and left instead of ridin’ me…” he murmurs, and the smile widens. “But now you’re up—so.”

“Oh? So me sitting up is basically me not ignoring you anymore?”

“Mhm,” he hums as he reaches for your face, his palm cupping your jaw and thumb brushing softly against your cheek as he tilts your head back just enough for your eyes to meet his. His voice drops slightly, his tone low. “So, you gonna put me out of my misery and ride me, or are you just gonna keep teasin’ me?”

You bite down on your bottom lip to hide your smile, your amusement barely contained as you weigh your options. “Do I get to wear the hat?”

“Yeah,” his answer comes instantly—no hesitation, no grumbling, none of what he showed earlier. His eyes remain locked on yours, “You can wear the hat, and you…” he pauses, shifting back slightly until his body is lying flat against the bed, one of his arms resting behind his head as he slowly crooks his fingers, beckoning you closer. “....can ride me.”

You smile widely, swinging a leg over to straddle his lap and his hand instinctively drops to your hips, guiding you closer with ease. His fingers squeeze the supple flesh beneath the shorts you’re wearing, and a quiet hum escapes him as his other hand reaches up to grab the hat from his head. 

“There we go…” he murmurs softly as his eyes rake over you once the hat is on your head. His gaze travels the length of your front, lingering on the way you adjust the cap. You wear it backwards—just like he does—and the simple action makes something shift in his expression.

Chris watches you with wide eyes, his lips parting slightly as he takes in the sight of you. It’s something he didn’t expect to affect him this much, leaving him completely speechless for a moment.

He swallows hard, trying to push past the lump in his throat as his hands slide unconsciously up and down your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and you catch the faintest twitch in his jaw as he fights the urge to make a sound of protest when you rise up on your knees, taking your weight off his lap.

But the protest dies on his lips when he sees why.

His eyes drop, immediately drawn to the way your fingers fumble with the waistband of your shorts. The fabric slides down, revealing more of your skin inch by inch, and Chris’ gaze darkens, his breathing hitching every so slightly.

There’s no hiding the hunger in his eyes now.

Another quiet hum rumbles deep in his chest as you settle back down in his lap, and his hands find their way to your hips again, this time gripping just a little tighter. 

His voice is rough when he finally speaks, “You look fuckin’ good in my hat.”

You smirk, leaning forward just slightly, “And you didn’t want me to wear it at first,” you tease as you grip his shirt, slowly pulling it up.

Chris grins and lifts his arms above his own head to let you pull the shirt off of him, letting the material land somewhere off the edge of the bed as his muscles flex beneath you. But the slight attitude in your tone earns you a light pinch against one plump thigh, causing you to jump and giggle softly.

“I was being stupid…” he tells you, gently rubbing your thighs once again in a silent signal for you to just get on with it. “Now, you gonna keep distractin’ me, or are you gonna ride me?”

“So demanding,” you tease once again, but you let out a fake sigh and click the roof of your mouth with your tongue as you stare down at his own shorts that he’s wearing. “Can’t really do much with those in the way, y’know? Looks like I’ll just have to sit here… all comfortable…and not do anything…”

A low rumble vibrates through Chris’ chest at that, and the grip he has on you tightens at your words. He’s trying his hardest to maintain his composure; to not give you the satisfaction of seeing him lose it so quickly—even if there is an obvious strain in his shorts.

His breaths grow slightly ragged, and his eyebrows furrow. “Don’t tease me.” 

“I’m not teasing you.”

“You’re sittin’ on my lap in nothin’ but your underwear—you’re teasin’ me,” he frowns, pressing his fingers into your thighs once again as he stares up at you. “You.. you can’t sit there and not do anythin’... you’re really—”

Chris is cut off by his own sharp gasp, his eyes shooting down toward his lap as you shift just a little more firmly on him, grinding your covered pussy on the bulge in his shorts. 

“Really what?” you press with a teasing tone.

A noise catches in his throat at your question, and his eyes flit up to look at your face. He looks almost taken aback at the grind, and he swears he can feel the dampness from your cunt seep against his clothed lap. 

“Don’t... don’t move like that.”

“No?” you hum, feigning innocence as you tilt your head to the side. “And I thought you wanted a ride?”

“You’re enjoyin’ this too much,” Chris glares with a growl, tonguing at his cheek. “If you keep grindin’ on me like that, then I’ll flip you over.”

“Well… that’s not nice.”

A hint of annoyance flashes across Chris’ face at your relentless teasing, and he shifts back a little as he leans up on his forearms. He’s looking up at you intently, and his jaw clenches to keep himself from flipping you over and taking you right then and there. 

“You’re being…” he mutters under his breath, unable to finish his sentence as his biceps flex, struggling to fight back the urges.

“Sorry,” you whisper with a giggle and a smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “But.. seriously. I can’t ride you if you’re wearing your shorts.”

Chris exhales deeply before he begrudgingly loosens his grip on your legs and moves his hands down to the waistband of his shoes, lifting his hips up a little to push the material down. It bunches somewhere down around his ankles and he relaxes back against the pillows, his expression a bit smug as he looks up at you again, his arms coming up to rest beneath his head.

“There. Better…?”

“Much,” you grin as you bite down on your bottom lip, peeling your damp panties to the side as you angle yourself above him, gripping his cock with one hand to gently rub it through your puffy folds, causing him to hiss. You pause for a moment, staring at him, trying not to smirk, “D’you want to be my boyfriend?” 

Chris lets out a huff of surprise, the question taking him so off guard that he just blinks at you. “Huh—w-what—” he falters, his brows knitting together as his expression contorts. “I—yeah, yes,” he stops himself short to clear his throat. “I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Okay.”

“Why would you—” Chris’ question is cut short by a strangled noise that emits from the back of his throat, and he nearly chokes on the sounds as he watches you sit down onto his lap, his cock sliding between your folds to sink into your heat. “Fuck—you didn’t warn me you were gonna do that—shit.”

He lets out another strangled gasp as you squeeze your gummy walls around his cock, and you grin as you watch his head fall back against the pillows: one of his arms shooting up to cover his eyes, his face a mixture of pleasure and overwhelmingness. 

“Shit—shit—hold on, can you—” There’s a pause, a shaky breath drawn between his lips as he tries to steady himself. His voice falters and breaks, and his muscles start trembling beneath you. “N-nevermind, just… keep—keep going.”

Slowly and deliberately, you begin to rock back and forth, grinding against him with each movement, and he moans softly, his hands moving down to your ass as you ride him. He feels like his head is spinning, feeling every inch of your hot, wet pussy wrapped around his cock, and his gaze draws to where you’re connected like a magnet. 

You let out a shaky breath, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you brace your hands on his chest, taking him deeper inside of you as you roll your hips, his cock rubbing your walls and brushing against your cervix. 

Chris sits up to lean against the headboard comfortably, and he mouths gentle kisses across your throat as his hands move up your spine, the pads of his fingers pressing against your skin to keep you close to him. 

“Feel so fuckin’ good—tight… s’wet f’me,” his voice is a faint grumble against the warm skin of your neck, and he nips at your pulse point.

“Am I?” you hum softly, raking your fingers through Chris’ hair, gently tugging at the curly roots and a soft grunt escapes him. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in closer, his nose brushing the side of your neck as he mumbles a few faint grumbles to himself, panting as you clench around him. 

“Mhm..” he affirms quietly, his teeth grazing your pulse point once again before he begins to kiss and suck at the spot.

You pick up the pace, an airy whine slipping from your lips as he pulls you down harder onto his cock, your breath hitching at the back of your throat as you alternate between bouncing and rolling your hips in circular motions when the strain in your thighs becomes too much. 

Chris lets out a low groan when you tease him with shallow bounces, sinking back down to the hit before repeating the process. He tugs his head away from your neck, and he takes a moment to really look at you now.

“Fuck, baby…” he breathes out, his fingertips digging into your skin once again as his eyes darken. “Look at you…”

Chris swallows thickly as he takes you in; he’s practically in a trance with the way your eyes look a little hazy, and how your lips are parted to take shallow breaths as you ride his cock wearing his hat. It’s an image that’s going to be burned into his mind forever—something that he refuses to forget as his chest heaves when you roll your hips down against his.

Chris’ hands slide around from your back to thumb at your hardened nipples, and he smiles when you arch your back, pushing your chest further into his touch, desperate for more stimulation. He squeezes and rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers, and you cry out in pleasure as you clench around his throbbing cock.

Sweat glistens on each of your skins as you both lose yourself in the moment, and you gasp as he grabs your waist this time to guide your movements, bucking his hips up into yours to drive himself deeper into your pussy with a hiss. 

Each plunge sends waves of pleasure through your body, making your head spin. You feel so full and stretched out, and the sensation of your clit rubbing against his pubic bone with every roll of your hips makes your breath come in sharp gasps, your lungs burning as your heart pounds in your chest.

You feel Chris’ hands roam over your curves, and his fingers dig into the plush skin of your ass as he urges you on.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum soon,” his voice strains, his eyes locking onto yours. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna fill y’up so fuckin’ good.”

“Cum,” you beg through heavy pants, clenching your inner walls around him. “Please… cum for me. Fill me. I need it.”

Your mouth drops open as Chris thrusts upward, burying himself to the hilt within your pussy as he spills inside of you, his cock pulsating as he fills you up. A sharp cry escapes your lips as it triggers your own, and your muscles spasm wildly in time with the erratic pumps of his hips. 

Both of your bodies tremble and shudder, and your arms loosely cling to Chris’ shoulders as you collapse against his chest, tucking your face in the crevice of his neck as he hums softly, holding your close as he strokes your sweaty back.

© STURNIOZ

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSWEET BUNNYㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How would they be with a timid and shy darling?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ NOTE : Request by anon ♡ English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

Bruce never saw himself as possessive. He saw himself as cautious, reasonable, and responsible. But when it came to you, it was different. You’re the softest thing in his life, a delicate presence that soothes the storm within him. Your shy nature makes you easy to shelter, easy to protect. You don’t argue when he keeps you close, don’t push when he subtly alters your life to fit his vision of safety.

You needed him. It was obvious.

How easy it is for you to let him take care of everything. How naturally you let him lead you through crowds, shielding you from eyes that linger too long. How your voice wavers when you say his name, like you’re unsure you’re allowed to. You are. You’re allowed to do anything with him. But no one else. And that’s the problem. Because he notices the way people don’t hesitate to approach you, knowing you won’t push them away. That man at the gala who leaned too close. The colleague who placed a hand on your shoulder. The waiter who smiled too much. He finds your timidity utterly enchanting. The way you hesitate before speaking, the way your gaze flits downward when he holds your chin, how you stammer under his scrutiny—it feeds something deep inside him. You need him, even if you don’t realize it yet. Bruce never gets frustrated with your shyness. If anything, he finds it ideal. You aren’t reckless. You aren’t difficult. You’re perfectly moldable. His perfect little doll. You don’t have to worry about the outside world anymore. Gotham is dangerous. Men look at you too long, the world is too harsh, and Bruce knows what’s best for you. He’s a provider by nature, and now you belong to him, his fragile little thing. You won’t even notice when your life shrinks—how he’s always there, subtly guiding you into dependency. He’s a master at making his control feel natural. It’s for your own good, sweetheart.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

Dick is obsessive in the purest sense. He’s everywhere—hovering, smothering, watching. He doesn’t just want to own you; he wants to drown in you, breathe you. You’re so shy, so quiet—and it drives him crazy. Every time you flinch under his overwhelming affection, every time your voice dies in your throat because he’s just too much, he melts. "Aw, sweetheart, don’t be shy. It’s just me." But he loves it. He loves how you tremble when he hugs you too tight, how your voice wavers when you try to refuse him. It makes him feel powerful—knowing he’s the only one who gets to see these pieces of you. At first, he tries to ease you into his intensity. But the longer he’s around you, the more agitated he becomes. Why are you still flinching? Why do you shy away when he’s the safest place you could ever be? The frustration isn’t with you. It’s with the world. Did someone teach you to be afraid? Who hurt you? He wants to rip them apart. He wants to keep you forever. So, he keeps pushing. The cuddles become longer. The touches linger. The kisses are too frequent, too intimate, but he brushes off your hesitance. "Come on, angel, don’t be like that. I just wanna be close." And when you still shy away? When you still look uncertain even after everything? He just pulls you tighter, cooing into your ear. "You’ll get used to me, baby. You’ll see."

— JASON TODD ⋆

At first, your timid nature makes him incredibly soft with you. You’re so meek, so gentle—and that means you need someone to keep you safe, right? You need someone who won’t let the world chew you up. Jason adores your shyness. The way you shrink under his gaze, the way you hesitate before speaking—it makes him feel needed. But as time passes, his patience wears thin. Why won’t you trust him? Why do you still tense when he holds you? He’s here to protect you, damn it. He’d kill for you. The worst part? You’re so sweet that you don’t even fight back. Your soft apologies, your nervous glances—they’re infuriating. He doesn’t want your fear, he wants your adoration. But Jason is impatient. And when you keep shying away, keep hesitating—he starts getting rougher. Not in a way that hurts, never that. But his hands linger longer, his grip tightens, his voice drops into something more desperate. "Stop bein’ so scared of me, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you." He doesn’t realize how terrifying he can be. How his sheer size, his intensity, can make your heart race in a way that isn’t just flustered affection. But he doesn’t want you to be afraid. He just wants you to be his, to love him. So he softens again. He makes up for his outbursts. He coaxes you into his arms, murmuring apologies against your skin. "I just want you to feel safe, doll. You are safe. Just let me take care of you." He’ll never let go.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

Damian sees your shyness as a flaw—a weakness in need of fixing. You’re too soft for this world, too easily pushed aside, and he simply cannot allow it. At first, he tolerates it. He even finds it charming. The way you lower your gaze, the way your voice barely rises above a whisper—it’s a novelty. He enjoys watching you struggle for words, enjoys the way you shrink in his presence. But soon, it frustrates him. "You must learn to speak when addressed, beloved. Do not make me repeat myself." He doesn’t understand why you hesitate, why you fear expressing yourself. And it makes him mad. Not at you, never at you—but at the world that made you this way. So, he takes control. He begins teaching you. He holds your chin between gloved fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. He corrects you when you stammer, urges you to speak up when your voice wavers. "Again. Say it again—this time, with confidence." But he adores how pliant you are. The way you listen, the way you try to please him—it soothes something primal inside him. He’s training you, molding you into something worthy of standing beside him. And yet… there’s a part of him that likes the way you tremble when he raises his voice. The way your breath catches when he leans in too close. The way your small hands clutch at his sleeves when he pulls you in. Perhaps… you don’t need fixing after all. Perhaps you just need him to be the voice you lack. "Very well, my love. If you refuse to speak, I will simply do it for you." And from then on, Damian owns every decision you make.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[starsinthesky5]

I think about this more than a healthy amount for some reason, so I gotta get it out there.

Joe really doesn’t like being called “Joey”. It’s just a childhood name that he feels he’s grown out of. BUT I think he’d have such a soft spot for his girl calling him Joey 🥹 maybe it catches him off guard the first time she lets it slip, but he likes it a lot more than he thought he would. And from then on he only wants to be her Joey and he gets all pouty when she just calls him Joe.

Soft cuddly little Joey bear is my favorite (grumpy irritated Joe is a very close second)

say it, please || joe burrow x reader

description: the ask pretty much sums it up!!

a/n: wow? another blurb? who am i?? this might be how i get back on track with YBWM and I'm not complaining!! again, rushed, written in a few hours, so please don't tell me if you hate it

word count: 1.9 k

warnings: fluffy fluff fluff

taglist: (ask to be added): @joeyfranchise @joeyb1989 @joeyburrrow @softburrow @burrowbarbie @yelenasbraid @lovelyburrow @yelenasbraid @starkeyswomen @grittysbiggestfan @definitelynotdomanique @lilfreakjez @fourburrow

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

oh joe absolutely despises it when people call him joey. no matter who it is, his mom, his dad, his closest childhood friends, even his nana. he just hates it. he’d complain about how it was too “babyish” and “embarrassing”, and that joe was more adult and manly. joey didn’t fit that stone-cold, joe cool persona he had going on…joey was more like “oh, here’s our soft, cuddly, teddy bear QB1” and he grimaced every time he thought about it. 

until you came around.

you knew that he didn’t like the cute little nickname, it was one of the first things robin had warned you about when you had your first one-on-one talk with her. you never really understood why he hated it, because his reasoning seemed pretty dumb. it was just a nickname, right? and it perfectly matched how he’d get when he had those adorable puppy dog eyes and rosy cheeks. it was just so right. 

but you loved joe, so naturally you respected his wishes just as he respected yours. you dropped the idea of the nickname and carried on. 

until one lazy sunday afternoon in the middle of february. 

you were doing your best attempt at shielding yourself from the bitter winter cold, curled up on the couch with your oversized plush bengals blanket and wearing one of joe’s old LSU hoodies. in your lap was your tablet, and the app opened up was your sketchpad. you worked in graphic design, so you were naturally always found with your apple pencil between your fingers and with this app on the screen in front of you. the latest project you had was not the usual kind—this one was a favor called in by a local cafe, a hidden gem in the heart of the queen city which happened to be one of joe’s favorite spots since he came to cincy. it was quiet, hidden, intimate, and the perfect spot to have a normal conversation with normal people; just how joe liked it. so when he had leisurely strolled into the cafe as usual one day after practice, he found himself caught up in a conversation with the owner (more so his newest best friend considering he went to the cafe every single day after practice) and the topic at hand was their recent obsessions. it was silly, but it was a good conversation to have over smoothies & muffins after a grueling day as star quarterback joe burrow. sometimes he just wanted to be joe again, especially with his friends, and this cafe was a great place to do so. 

anyway, for steve, his obsession was the latest addition to his cafe. a shiny new espresso machine with too many settings and advancements to count. 

for joe, it honestly should’ve been obvious to anyone with working eyes considering every time he thought about it out loud or in his mind—which was a lot—his cheeks turned pink and his eyes softened like he was a stick of melting butter. there was only one thing that could make joe feel and look like that, and everyone in town knew what it was. i mean, it was the hottest topic once you showed up on the sidelines wearing that initial around your neck before the wild card game against the ravens. 

his recent obsession was none other than his lovely, adorable, larger than life…future wife. 

his precious girlfriend.

you. 

he was going on and on about you with that goofy boyish smile to the point where steve was questioning if joe was drunk, high, delirious, or all of the above and just deeply unwell. and honestly, he was. 

he was completely, totally, and utterly lovesick. 

joe rambled on about anything and everything related to you. from your unique hobbies like forging & pressing flowers into journals and resin molds, to your interests that didn’t involve sitting in the stands and cursing out referees for bullshit penalties, and even your cute little habits such as spraying joe’s cologne on your hoodies while he was at an away game so that you could still be close to him. he just loved to talk about you, to tell people how you and everything about you had been such a breath of fresh air in his suffocating life. you were the change of pace he so desperately needed, and he was going to make sure the entire world knew of that. 

then, he started telling steve about your passion for graphic design. you worked full-time at a PR firm for it, but that didn’t stop you from dabbling into side projects in which you had complete control. you’ve designed things like wedding invitations, baby announcements, birthday cards, and even a few shirt designs for your old high school. you were extremely talented, so obviously he’d show you off in that sense too. he loved how hardworking, independent, and creative you were.

that conversation joe had with steve was how you now ended up re-designing steve’s cafe’s logo for him. you really didn’t mind doing it, not that you could say no if you did mind anyway. you knew steve was joe’s friend so if you said no for a good reason, he’d understand, but if word got out that joe burrow’s girlfriend refused to help out a local cafe with something like this…whew. bad bad PR. so, it was a good thing that you loved designing and sketching in your free time because there was no reason for you to say no. everyone would be happy :)

as you twirled your pencil in your hand, gliding the tip along the screen to perfect the border of the design, you felt a weight press down on your shoulder—warm, soft, and familiar. 

joe. 

he really loved watching you do your thing, bonus points if he got to cuddle with you while you were doing your thing, so this was a natural place for him to be found now. you were completely focused on the task at hand, that you didn’t realize when he started talking to you. your ears picked up on bits and pieces of what he was saying, but most of it was drowned out by your own inner thoughts as you contemplated over which shade of green to use in the logo. 

“...so, is it okay if we order in from gloria’s tonight instead of going out in the storm?” he asked, his warm breath tickling your skin as he pushed himself further into the crook of your neck. he’d hide in there if he could, maybe even nestle himself inside your pocket to be as close to you as humanly possible. 

you heard him, and you thought you responded, but that must’ve been in your imagination because then you felt him gently poke your thigh to get your attention. “oh, hm?” you hummed, slightly tilting your head down to see him but keeping your gaze fixed on the screen in front of you. “...yeah, that’s fine joey,” you mumbled, not aware of what you were saying, and what name you just said. 

his heart stuttered in his chest, skipping a beat before picking up again, softer this time—like it was melting right into his ribs. that name, the one that usually made him cringe, that usually made him irritated, suddenly felt…warm. safe. like something sacred.  

because it came from you.  

you weren’t teasing him. you weren’t babying him. you just said it, all soft and dreamy, like it was the most natural thing in the world. like it belonged to him, to you—to both of you.  

joe blinked, his lips parting slightly, his body no longer tense against you but loose, relaxed in a way he didn’t even know he could be. his fingers twitched against his lap, itching to reach for you, to pull you close, to hear you say it again.  

“yeah?” he murmured, voice quieter now, hesitant almost.  

you finally peeled your eyes away from the screen, meeting his gaze, and that’s when it really hit him. the warmth in your expression, the way your lips curled ever so slightly, the way you looked at him like he was your favorite person in the entire world.  

god.  

and from then on, he only wanted to be your joey.  not joe. not burrow. not anything else. just your joey.  

and he made it painfully obvious.  

the first time you called him just joe after that, it was like you stole the sun right out of his sky. his face fell so fast it was almost humorous—eyebrows knitted together, lips pressed into the softest little pout as he stared at you like you’d just broken his heart.  

“what?” you blinked, confused at his odd expression.  

he huffed, shifting closer to you on the couch, arms crossing over his chest in the most dramatic sulk you’d ever seen. “nothing,” he mumbled, but it was so very much something.  

you tilted your head, studying him, before realization hit you.”oh my god,” you gasped, a slow grin creeping onto your face. “are you pouting because i called you joe?”.

he stayed silent. just pouted harder.  

you laughed, reaching over to cup his face, thumbs brushing over his warm, slightly flushed cheeks. “baby, do you wanna be my little joey again?”.

his lashes fluttered, shoulders dropping as he leaned into your touch like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth. and then, so quiet, so needy, it almost made your heart burst—  

“say it, please.” 

your breath hitched.  

oh.  

his voice was barely above a whisper, but you could feel it—the weight of his words, the way he needed to hear it from you, how it felt different when it came from your lips. he didn’t just want the name. he wanted you saying it, holding it close like it was something precious. like he was something precious.  

you softened, pulling him impossibly closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then his temple, then the corner of his mouth. “okay, joey,” you whispered against his lips, the name dripping in warmth, in love, in everything he ever wanted to hear from you.  

he melted instantly, arms wrapping tight around your waist, his face nuzzling into your neck like he never wanted to leave. and god, he didn’t. he wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in you, basking in the way you said his name like it belonged to you and you alone.  

because it did.  

no one else could say it like you. no one else could make his chest ache in the best way, could make his heart stutter and swell all at once. no one else could make him love the name he once hated.  

only you.  

his girl. his love. his everything.  

your joey.  

only yours. always.

–the end–

[greengoblinswifey]

Off Limits

pairing— stepdad!in-ho x stepdaughter!reader

summary— since in-ho has married your mother, you’ve had him wrapped around your finger and your pussy wrapped around his cock—but lately, he’d been neglecting you in favor of her. you get his attention in the only way you know how, making him jealous.

warnings— minors DNI. age gap(19, early 50s) jealousy, spanking, face fucking, daddy kink, katoptronophilia, choking, hair pulling, cock worship, orgasm denial, begging, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— i feel like after this you guys can tell i have daddy issues but enjoy! requests for stepdad!in-ho are open.

You had spent the last few weeks feeling almost restless. Ever since In-ho started spending less time at home, and more with your mother at the request of wanting to hang out with her husband more, your usual interactions had been reduced to fleeting glances at dinner and quickies when he finally managed to slip away. He was distant and when he wasn’t with your mother—he was occupied with his mysterious occupation and you hated how much you noticed. How much you missed him. But you weren’t the type to sit around sulking. If he was going to ignore you, you’d make sure he regretted it.

Sure, you had no right to be jealous. He was your mother’s husband. No one told you to go fuck your stepfather, of course he’d start spending time with his own wife instead.

So when a popular frat boy from your university asked you out, again—you finally said yes. Not because you liked him, but because you knew it would get a reaction from In-ho.

Getting ready, you chose the skimpiest two piece outfit you owned. The fabric clung to your body in all the right places, the skirt riding just high enough to show your ass cheeks and your thong strings were on your hips. You knew exactly what you were doing when you stepped out of your room.

He was there, standing in the hallway, watching you with an unreadable expression. His gaze dragged over your figure, slowly, before settling on your face.

“Where are you going?” His voice was calm, but there was something sharp underneath it.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a date,” you smirked, tilting your head.

His jaw tensed. “Go back inside and change that sorry excuse of an outfit. You aren’t going anywhere.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, not happening.”

He exhaled through his nose, something dark flickering in his gaze, but he didn’t say another word. You walked past him without looking back.

The date was fine. The guy was charming, a little full of himself, but he paid for dinner and made you laugh a couple of times. Still, your mind was elsewhere. And when he dropped you back home, you made sure to lean in and kiss him on the cheek before stepping out of the car.

As you turned to walk inside, you threw one last glance over your shoulder. “You know, you’re free to touch if you’d like,” you said playfully, knowing full well a certain someone would be watching.

The guy grinned, slapping your ass and biting his lip before driving off. He hadn’t gotten any pussy but he definitely scored that night.

You didn’t need to turn around to know In-ho was there, standing just inside the house, waiting. The door clicked shut behind you, locking you in with the storm brewing in his gaze.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest. Maybe you had pushed too far.

“What the hell was that?” His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the irritation beneath it.

You rolled your eyes and moved to push past him. “Isn’t my mother waiting for you?” you said, asked.

Before you could take another step, his hand wrapped around your wrist, firm but not painful. “It’s just us right now,” he said, his voice heavier.

You tried to yank your arm away, glaring up at him. “Let me go.”

His jaw tightened. “You’ve been a brat all night,” he muttered. His gaze dropped briefly, taking in your outfit again, and his grip tensed just slightly. “And you really walked out of here wearing this? For him?”

You scoffed, looking anywhere but at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He let out a low, humorless chuckle. “You think I didn’t see you? Letting that kid put his hands on your ass like that?”

You lifted your chin, crossing your arms. “And?”

That muscle in his jaw twitched. He let go of your wrist only to grab you again, firmer this time, pulling you toward the bedroom.

“Hey—” you started, trying to dig your heels into the floor, but he was stronger.

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, kicking the door shut behind you. “You’ve been running your mouth all night.”

You shoved at his arm, cursing under your breath. “This is ridiculous.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you forward over his lap. You gasped, trying to push up, but his hand pressed against the small of your back.

“In-ho—”

“You went out with that little boy wearing nothing but a thong?” he asked, lifting the hem of your skirt, scoffing. “Figures.”

You squirmed. “Let me go.”

“You know the drill.” His voice was calm, almost amused. “Count.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sharp sting that followed had you sucking in a breath instead.

“One.”

Another.

“T-two.”

His hand came down again, this time a bit harder. “I’m sorry,” you whined.

He scoffed, smoothing his hand over your burning ass. “Sorry who?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

It clearly wasn’t enough for him as his hand came down once more.

By the time he reached fifteen, your breath was shaky, and your ass tingled with heat.

He exhaled, running a hand over your ass before finally letting you go. You sat up quickly, glaring at him through glassy eyes.

He smirked, leaning back slightly. “That little stunt of yours was cute.”

You huffed, wiping your eyes. “S-shut up.”

Still, the way he was looking at you made it clear—he knew you weren’t going to pull something like that again.

You pouted, the look on your face making his resolve falter. “Can you hold me? Please daddy.”

He wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms and tell you all was well but you needed to learn. He tilted your chin, meeting your watery, pouty gaze. “When you’ve learned to be a good girl but you’re not there yet.”

He undid his belt, his hard cock springing free and you immediately knew what you had to do.

“Get on your knees, worship this cock and show me exactly how sorry you are.”

You nodded, getting on his knees to place a soft kiss on his tip, murmuring, “I love how perfect you are.” Your lips traced a slow path on his shaft, and you could feel his gaze on you. “So big daddy,” you whispered, your words a mix of praise and awe. You knew he liked hearing it, the way his jaw tightened and his fingers threaded through your curls told you so.

“Shut up,” he said, his tone more commanding now. “I don't need you to tell me, you're going to show me.”

Your lips parted, and you took him in your mouth, your gaze flicking up to meet his. His hand tightened in your curls, guiding you to remind you who was in control. “That's it, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Keep going, just like that.”

You continued, your focus entirely on him, feeling his quiet approval in the way his cock throbbed, though his hand remained firmly in your hair. He let out a soft moan, “You're doing so good for me,” he murmured, his words making your pussy throb. “Sometimes you can be a good girl.”

You glided your tongue along his length, your voice barely above a whisper as you said, “I love making you feel good, daddy.” Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his balls, adding to the warmth of your affection.

You took him deep into your throat, gagging as you did but it only turned him on. His grip on your curls remained, pushing your head down then thrusting when you got too comfortable. You swirled your tongue around his shaft, saliva and pre cum dripping down your chin, and you made sure your eyes looked up at him, full of admiration as he fucked your face.

“Such a beautiful fucking slut for your daddy,” he moaned. He began thrusting faster, ready to shoot his load down your throat. “Get ready, and you're going to swallow every drop.” You hummed in response, the vibration sending him over the edge and he pushed your head all the way down until your nose touched his pelvis. His cum shot down your throat and you swallowed every drop like the good girl you aimed to be.

He pulled you off him by your hair, his breath shaky, cock twitching.

“I’d eat your pussy but you don’t deserve that right now.” You pouted at his words. “Get on the bed. Face down, ass up. Move.”

You obeyed, biting your lip as you crawled onto the bed, positioning yourself as he instructed. Your heart raced as you glanced at the mirror in front of the bed, where you could see the reflection of the both of you. In-ho stood behind you, his intense gaze fixed on you as he pulled off his shirt, revealing the muscles of his torso.

He tore your skirt and your thong off, then your skimpy top followed. His smirk was almost cruel, his hands brushing along the curve of your now bare ass as he positioned himself behind you.

“You're going to behave now, aren't you, sweetie?” he murmured. “Or do I need to remind you who's in charge?”

You rolled your eyes and he slapped your ass in response, making you yelp. He didn't hesitate, gripping your waist tightly before plunging into you with a force that left you screaming. Your face buried into the pillow instinctively, but his low, commanding voice brought you back.

“No,” he growled, his fingers tightening around your hips. “Look at yourself. Look at what happens when you act out. Watch me punish you."”

You turned your head toward the mirror, catching sight of him in all his glory. His dark eyes met yours in the reflection, a look of dominance swirling in them.

“That's fucking right,” he said, slamming into you harder, making your entire body jolt. “Don't you dare look away.”

Your breath hitched as his pace quickened, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “Daddy, I'm sorry,” you cried, your voice trembling.

“Too bad.” he said sharply, his lips curving into a smirk. “You've been a brat and a damn whore all night. You don't get to apologize now.”

His rhythm didn't relent, his grip firm as he hit that spot inside you that made you tremble uncontrollably. “You're enjoying this way too much," he murmured, his tone almost teasing as he noticed the way your pussy soaked his cock.

He could feel the way you clenched around him and he grabbed your throat, pulling you back to his chest.

“You wanna cum for daddy? Yeah?” he asked.

“Yes, daddy,” you sobbed. “P-please let me cum. I promise I’ll be good.”

He chuckled darkly, shoving you back down into the mattress, your face pressed into it. “Beg me, scream for me. Tell me how sorry you are.”

The overwhelming urge to cum was so much, you couldn’t hold back the words that tumbled from your lips even if you tried.

“Please daddy! Please, let me cum. I- I’m so sorry! I won’t be a brat anymore, I swear. Please, wanna cum s-so bad,” you cried, your voice breaking into a pathetic sob.

You could feel the way his cock throbbed inside you at your words. He pulled you back by your neck, your gaze locked on him in the mirror.

“You’ve earned it, baby. Cum for daddy, soak my cock.”

His words were all you needed, your body shook in his arms, and your orgasm took ahold of you. Babbling incoherent words, you squirted, the sensation so intense that his cum spurted deep inside your pussy. He pressed your face into the bed, moaning loudly as he fucked his cum into you and rode out his high. When he was satisfied, he collapsed onto the bed, laying kisses all over your face as he tried to ground you.

In-ho exhaled as he stood up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a warm cloth. He crouched down beside you, his touch surprisingly gentle as he wiped your face, brushing away the dampness on your cheeks then cleaned between your legs. His fingers lingered for a moment, thumb grazing your cheek.

“What’s really wrong, sweetie?” His voice had softened now, no longer edged with frustration.

You pouted, crossing your arms. “You’ve been spending so much time with mom,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze. “I feel alone.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he sat beside you. “You don’t have to be jealous or seek attention from some little boy to get a reaction out of me,” he said, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him. “You’re the one I want. You know that.”

Your defenses crumbled at his words, and without thinking, you buried your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close, stroking your hair and your back.

“Good girl,” he murmured, running his hand down your back in soothing strokes. “You know I’m yours regardless.” His lips brushed the top of your head. “And you’re mine. My princess, my baby girl.”

You exhaled, finally relaxing against him as he held you, warm and a bit—fatherly, exactly where you wanted to be.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Tags: @chrisgetsmewetter @namsgyu @pillowtalk6 @namelesslosers @verouys @megangovier @torasgfreal @badasoneandonly @nicholaschavezslut69 @cathers-world @hisokasimp1 @matcham1lk @blushlaced

[425599167]

So, you've been getting orders from this "Council of Humanity", huh? I don't know, I'm just trying to put everything together. If they're so invested in destroying those machine life-forms, why don't they let you use your Bunker's weapons? It's just very confusing. Those regular correspondences you get, they all sound very similar, almost like you could be sent any of them whenever. I guess they're just trying to save a little time, not much new to say. Oh, one more thing, I found this data file saying that YoRHa created the Council, but that can't be right, isn't that backwards? Ah, I'm sure it's just a labeling mistake. Miss 2E, you look awful nervous. You're working yourself too hard bashing all these machines, you should come with me, I know a great fishing spot nearby. 2B, I mean, I'm so sorry, ah I'm just terrible with names. My wife is always telling me it's impolite, she never forgets anybody's name. I hear executioner models have very analytical personalities, and you know, that job would fit you perfect. Wouldn't she be perfect for that, Nines?

[psin314]

Angst you say? What types of angst were you planning for them??? Like what type of angst could these lovebirds have?! Will they break up??? Have an argument then one of them leaves for a contract and DIES??? LIKE WHAT ANGST!? DETAILS!!! ARE NEEDED!!!

okay. as you wish, anon!!!

full pic and explanation under the cut. tw very sad blood death very sad again

idk if it's canon or not…………….. i'll keep drawing them happy anyway.

the text is very messy sorry my english is ba*gunshot*

murat, 50, lucanis, 45. still crows, lucanis is the first talon, murat is his right-hand man.

at 49, murat was stabbed on a seemingly simple contract, he even hobbled home with a wound and almost gave lucanis a heart attack because murat acted as if nothing terrible had happened, but he could barely stand on his feet. he was stabbed close to the liver, close but not fatal. the fade prison did something to lucanis and after that he became more nervous, anxious or something, idk. overprotective, maybe. after that, lucanis said that's it, we will retire and move to the outskirts of antiva, away from all this. murat thought lucanis was joking and then realized he wasn’t joking at all. after a little fight, murat promised one year more okay, we'll solve this thefirsttalon problem and finally run away from here. oh and we'll get a dog, a cat, and a goat, whoever you want, my love. lucanis agreed.

10 months passed. they were either on a contract or on some kind of crow mission, but it turned out to be an ambush. they were ready for this, because there are attempts on their lives, like, all the time. but this time these guys were very well prepared and there were several times more of them. (maybe even spite couldn't do spite things and lucanis had to rely only on his skills. some kind of magical artifact.) after a short fight, lucanis' head was slammed against the wall and he was knocked out but was still conscious. murat killed this guy and the last one remained. and at the same time murat cut their throat, they stabbed murat in the chest with all their might with a terrible crunch. falling to the ground, they also pulled the knife out of murat. murat only had the strength to slide down the wall.

spite tried to lift lucanis but he couldn't, he kept repeating that murat was hurt. eventually lucanis regained consciousness and crawled to murat. he was holding his chest and looked really fucking bad. lucanis opened murat's collar and there was a deep wound with blood oozing out. the same blood was also pouring out of his mouth. lucanis said that he will come up with something right now, he will find help, murat just needs to hold on a little. he was panicking, not knowing what to do, he tried to cover the wound with both hands, but the blood was oozing right through his fingers. murat, with the last of his strength, said that he loves him very much and he is so sorry that he couldn't keep his promise. he covered lucanis' hands with his own. lucanis said that he doesn't give a shit about the promise, just live, please. but after these words, murat wilted and his hand slowly slid down to lucanis's wrist, and then hung.

lucanis had a very short stage of denial, because he had seen death many times and this was exactly it. at first he tried to lift him up, to carry him somewhere, but for some reason murat's body was now incredibly heavy, and it was as if lucanis had no strength at all. he tried to talk to him but he no longer answered. well… so he sat down next to him. he sat there for i don’t know how long. spite didn’t understand at all why the fuck lucanis was just sitting there and doing nothing. why didn’t he help him. probably spite is still somewhat confused about death, he doesn't fully understand the death of mortals.

i don't know what will happen to lucanis next, everything is so bad, it's horrible if you think about it. rook was his first, in many things. murat was his best friend, assistant, support. he was afraid that murat could be killed, but he wasn't afraid when murat was next to him, because together they can handle anything. and then this happens… plus spite harbored a grudge against him. he blamed lucanis for not saving rook. lucanis tried to explain to him that murat had already died and it was no longer possible to bring him back. but spite is spite, he stood his ground. and soon lucanis also began to blame himself. what he will do next, i can't even imagine.

the end!!

[yanderenightmare]

Ryusei Shido

♡ TW: nsfw, idk, fluffy, sappy

♡ GN reader

You could never date him, but you love the way he fucks you.

He’s not even thinking about your pleasure. But you think, maybe, that’s precisely what makes it so good.

Most guys will let you do some of the work, but Ryusei doesn’t think of sex as a team effort. No, it’s just him and his goal, and he plays you just like he does the soccer field, leaving you feeling trampled in the best possible way.

He’s got you on your back, but only barely. His hands keep you lifted off the mattress, curled into the fat of your ass. It’s a common position, but Ryusei makes it anything but normal—propped on his toes and knees, wearing you like a belt, while hunched over you like a beast with his tongue on your chest.

The pace is fast, and he never lets up, not even when you scream and cum for the third time—he just fucks you through it like a dog chasing a bone, and when he finally catches it, he only settles for burying it as deep as you go. And no, of course, he doesn’t wear a condom. He could fuck a blowup doll if he wanted to wrap his dick in plastic.

He’s crazy. Asking if you’d mind if he invited his buddy Sae to join—as if that’s just something you ask. He can’t see you as much more than a football the way he wants to pass you around.

Honestly, he’s the worst, and so, no matter how good he fucks you, you never stay the night. Both on principle and survival instinct. Getting familiar with a wild animal will only get you hurt in the end, after all.

And so, you pick your underwear up from the floor.

“What’s the rush?” he asks groggily. Hair down, messy and heavy with sweat, naked still, and glistening in the afterglow.

You pull your bottoms on and then proceed to gather your things. Answering unsympathetically, “I got work in the morning.”

“Boo.” He rolls over until he’s lying across the bed, his head falling over the edge, looking at you upside down where you walk around trying to undo his handiwork. “Just quit and become my sex slave.”

You crack a small laugh, “Psh, what’re the benefits?”

He rolls over onto his stomach, propping his head up under a hand. “Health care, housing, meals, endless shopping trips, oh, and fucking me, of course.” He smiles with a bite to his lip.

You try your best to deadpan when looking at him, but can’t help your lips curling into a smile. 

“You’re silly,” is still all you say, continuing to collect your things. When he undressed you earlier, he somehow managed to throw things into every corner of the room. Maniac.

“Come on,” he drawls, once again rolling over—not about to tell you that he made sure to fling your pants under the bed. “Stay for round two, and I’ll fuck yah so hard you won’t even be able to leave.”

You just sigh, “I told you, I got work.”

“I’ll drive you in the morning,” he insists.

And so do you with another excuse, “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Then quit,” he repeats—voice a little curt this time.

You look up from your search and see his upset pout—looking like a kid who’s been told no. 

“You said that already,” you say softly, coming over to ruffle his unkempt hair.

“And I meant it,” he persists, taking your hand and pulling you down into the bed again, making sure to trap you by maneuvering himself on top before you had any chance of escaping. 

He kisses your neck, burying his face there with a groan. “Fucking you before practice makes me feel invincible. Sex with you is like my good luck charm. When I don’t get it, it’s like I forget how to kick the ball—”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you laugh and roll your eyes.

“I’m being serious. I mean…” His voice turns soft then, and he nuzzles his face deeper into your neck, making his words come out muffled, “We don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to. But at least spend the night… for once.”

The tips of his ears are bright red. You’re not entirely sure what to make of it, but you’d have to have nerves of steel to say no a third time.

Wrapping his head in your hands, you pet his hair and kiss his crown.

“Okay, you win, Ryu. I’ll stay.”

♡ MISCELLANEOUS masterlist