#on the plus side i *did* get to have a lovely time up until that point

[cinnxmxngxrl]

Ok, Harry clearly has a lot of money from working for the Harrigans. So can I make a request for reader as his sugar baby? Like she's his side chick, he tries to be stoic and cold about it (it's a transaction after all, right?) but she really has a hold on him to the point that she ends up controlling him in a way? Both materially and sexually (yes, I'm kinda asking for a bit of femdom tbh lol)

“Sugary Sweet”

Harry Da Souza x f!Reader

Harry’s Masterlist Join the tag list

Summary: Being a sugar baby is all perks when you get to fuck a hot man and have him giving you all the expensive gifts you want.

WC: 3.8k

Warnings/Tags: smut, minors DNI, undisclosed age gap, sugar daddy dynamics, oral (m!receiving), grinding, unprotected piv, creampie, cheating, bit of orgasm denial, finger licking, sub!Harry like he’s straight up BEGGING and I’m living for it.

“I need a new phone.”

Those were the first words out of your mouth the moment Harry stepped into your apartment—the one he paid for, obviously.

He looked wrecked. You saw it instantly, in the dark circles shadowing his eyes, in the heaviness dragging at his steps as he crossed the room and sank down beside you on the couch. He carried the kind of fatigue that didn’t just come from work, but from life itself, the kind that made him seem older than he was. But even then, he was still the most ridiculously attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. And honestly, you’d still have fucked Harry if he didn’t have a single cent to his name, but the fact that he was well off? That just made everything more convenient.

You remembered the first time you told your friends about Harry. Showed them that picture you’d taken of him fast asleep on your chest, bragged about how good the sex was, how big he was, how he fucked like he was trying to ruin you for anyone else. They were jealous already, because scoring a man that good-looking plus him being good in bed? That was good enough. But the moment they saw you slide into a car worth more than they made in a year? Yep, that’s when they really started to hate you.

“Good evening to you too,” he replied flatly, scrubbing his hands over his tired face.

“Good evening, Harry,” you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, just a quick and sweet distraction. “I need a new phone.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, that sigh of his laced with exhaustion more than irritation. “What happened to the last one I got you?”

You gave a sheepish little smile, biting your lip. “Went out clubbing last night. Lost it. Pretty sure someone snatched it from my back pocket.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, not quite surprised. “Well, it’s not very smart to keep your phone in your back pocket when you’re packed in a club.”

“God, stop. You sound like my dad,” you teased, nudging your knee against his. “Come on, H.”

His eyes narrowed just slightly, not angry, but tired and unconvinced. “And what’s wrong with your old phone, it had what, eight months of use?”

Harry loved this… relationship? If that was even the right word for it, it didn’t quite fit, maybe “relationship” was too sentimental for what the two of you had, but it sure as hell felt like something. He loved the ease of it. You’d joked once, calling him your “sugar daddy.”

“You get me cute stuff and I fuck you, but you’re like… hotter than a creepy old man, so it’s better,” you’d said with a wink, sprawled across his lap in nothing but your underwear. And fuck, did he love it. Harry was used to being in control in every other aspect of his life, he needed to be. Needed to have every move calculated, all the cards up his sleeve, but with you… it was different. He hadn’t known, not really, how much a part of him craved giving that control away until he met you.

So yeah. Maybe he was your sugar daddy. Maybe you were his sugar baby, just a side chick he kept tucked away in a penthouse apartment he paid for, hidden, just for him. Not part of his public life, but a secret he indulged in every night. Harry didn’t know how he ended up like this, he’d never had a thing for younger women, hell, he’d never even thought about having an affair. But you… from the moment he laid eyes on you, it was like gravity shifted, you pulled him in effortlessly, like a magnet, and now he was hooked and completely addicted, and no matter how wrong it was, he didn’t want to let you go.

“My old phone is soooo… old,” you pouted dramatically, draping yourself against him like a cat. “It’s slow, and the camera sucks. It’s basically a fossil.”

“Your old phone is the same phone as the one that just came out. You just let them brainwash you—” he started, shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Oh Harry, please,” you cooed, drawing out the words in that voice he was weak for. “Just get me a new one. I can’t keep using this old thing.”

“You have such a hard life,” he replied dryly, though his mouth quirked slightly at the corner, teetering between mockery and fondness. His arm curled around your waist, fingertips resting just above the curve of your ass like a lazy claim.

You gasped, feigning offense. “Harry! Don’t downplay my struggle.”

“Oh, forgive me, love,” he said, eyes still closed, voice low with exhaustion and amusement. “Must be hard living in an apartment you don’t pay for, wearing clothes you didn’t buy, fucking a man who even pays for your Uber Eats.”

You grinned. “Exactly. So the least that man could do is get me the new iPhone. In pink. C’mon, H. You want me to keep sending you pics, don’t you? You like seeing your girl looking pretty.”

“That what I am now?” he asked, his voice low. “Your sponsor?”

You bit your lip, leaning in until your mouth was a breath away from his. Your voice dropped, all sweet seduction. “Oh please, H. How am I supposed to send you those cute little videos you like so much with a shitty camera?”

Harry’s breath hitched, just the slightest pause, but you caught it. You always caught it. That flicker in his eyes, the sharp exhale from his nose. You had him, and you both knew it. This was his favorite game, you’d ask for something expensive and shiny. He’d sigh, playing hard to get, muttering about how much you ask for, how spoiled and bratty you are. But it wasn’t about the money, it wasn’t because he couldn’t give it to you—he could, easily—but because he liked watching you beg, and then he’d give you everything you wanted.

Your hand slipped down, between his legs, fingers tracing over the hard line straining against his jeans. He was already hard for you.

“You know,” you whispered, lips brushing his jaw as your fingers teased his cock through the denim,“those little videos where I moan your name while I pretend my fingers are your cock?”

His head tipped back against the couch, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. You smiled. Got him. “Maybe I should stop sending them until I have a better camera.”

“Fucking hell,” he growled, his voice was lower than usual. Your filthy words, your hand palming his cock through his jeans, the way your thumb circled the thick outline at the tip… it wasn’t helping. “Talking about your little videos… maybe you shouldn’t send them when I’m out working. Makes it near impossible to get through the day.”

It wasn’t just once or twice, there had been plenty of times Harry had to excuse himself, rush to his car, and jerk himself off like some desperate teenager, watching some filthy little video of you riding a toy with his name on your lips, or a picture of your soaked panties with a teasing caption. How the fuck was he supposed to sit next to Conrad Harrigan with a hard-on the size of a fucking bat?

“Oh, please. You love them.” You gave his cock a sharp squeeze, and felt the way he bucked into your palm. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he hissed through them. “Are you gonna get me a new phone or what?”

“Fuck— I don’t know, babe,” he exhaled hard. His hips twitched again with need. “You’re getting too greedy, don’t you think?”

The begging, that was always Harry’s weakness. His favorite part. You’d whimper, pout, make him think he was the one in control, when in truth, you had him wrapped around your little finger, you knew exactly how to play him, how to manipulate him, how to drag a “yes” out of his mouth with nothing but a pout and a roll of your hips.

Harry had realized just how much he loved this whole sugar daddy arrangement the first time he bought you that lingerie set, the kind of luxury brand you couldn’t have afforded on your own. He hadn’t even planned much that day, just saw it in a store window and thought of you, how it’d look against your skin, how it’d feel bunched around your waist when he fucked you from behind. But nothing prepared him for you that night, you’d tied his wrists to the headboard and climbed on top of him like you owned him. You’d used him for hours, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of him until he was shaking, overstimulated and screaming your name. And from that moment, he’d been completely gone for you. There was something about earning the right to fuck you by spoiling you, by buying whatever you wanted him to get you, that made his cock hard like a rock. He knew he could have you anyway, but knowking he worked hard to win that blowjob, to win the privilege of burying himself in your cunt... that was priceless

You climbed into his lap slowly, straddling his thick thighs and sinking down just enough to feel the heavy press of his cock straining under his jeans, nestled perfectly against your pussy.

“Pretty please, H…” you purred, voice syrupy sweet as you rocked against him. “You don’t want me running off to find another sugar daddy, do you? That’d be such a shame. Especially when you’ve got the best cock I’ve ever seen.” You emphasized the praise with a filthy grind, dragging your clothed pussy hard over his length.

“Don’t you even fucking dare,” Harry growled, his hands snapping to your ass, gripping it like he owned it, forcing you to keep grinding, pulling you tighter, deeper against him. “You know you’re only mine.”

He knew you were just teasing him and poking at that possessive part of him you’d come to know so well, knew that you had no intention of fucking anyone else or replace him, what you had with him was too good for either of you to throw away. But still, the idea of another man laying his hands on you, seeing what was his, hearing those pretty little moans you saved just for him? It didn’t just disgust him, it infuriated him, stirred a type of jealousy he’d never known before.

"Am I?" You teased him, and a little moan escaped your lips when your clit caught really good agaisnt his bulge. "Cause if you want me to keep being yours you can't neglect me like this."

"Me neglecting you? Who's gonna fuck you like this, babe? Who else is gonna get you everything you want?" He said. "Keep you purring like a kitten every fucking night?"

"You gonna get me a new phone, then?" You said, humping faster over him, enough to keep him on the edge, grunting and moaning, without giving him enough to tip him over.

"Fuck- yes babe. Tell-Tell me which one you want." He whispered agaisnt your mouth. "Get my card and go get it, whichever you want. You deserve it."

You moaned softly, part from the grind of your soaked pussy dragging over the thick bulge in his jeans, part from the sweet sound of his surrender. “You’re so good to me, Harry,” you purred.

With a quick shift, you slid down his body, never once breaking eye contact, until you were kneeling between his legs like a reward he’d earned. “You just bought yourself a really good fuck.”

You reached up, unzipping his pants with a teasing slowness, and his cock sprang free, hard, throbbing, and already heavily leaking pre-cum for you, the sight alone making your mouth water. You wrapped a hand around his shaft and leaned in, lips parting as you sucked his swollen tip into your mouth. The taste of the salty pre-cum hit your tongue, and Harry let out a ragged moan above you, his fingers immediately tangling in your hair, gripping tight like he was barely holding on.

Your lips slid further down his cock, inch by inch, until your nose brushed the soft curls at the base. You moaned around him, feeling your throat flexing and stretching around his length as you swallowed him deep.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped, hips bucking up into your mouth before he could stop himself. “Jesus, babe, where the fuck did you learn to suck cock like this?”

You popped off with a filthy wet sound, spit trailing from your lips to his shaft as you caught your breath, smirking like you had him right where you wanted him.

“I was thinking…” you licked another bead of pre-cum from his tip, “…I saw this necklace I liked. Gold, real dainty. Wouldn’t it look so pretty around my neck and over your forehead while I’m riding you.”

Harry let out a growl. “F-fuck. Fine. Get it. Just—Jesus, just put your mouth back on me, babe. Please.”

You smiled wickedly, tasting the victory, then swallowed him again without warning, making him grunt like he’d just been punched in the gut. You bobbed your head, taking him in deep, your tongue was working him just right, just the way you knew he liked, until his thighs tensed under your palms.

And then again, when you sensed he was getting close… you pulled away.

“I might need some new shoes too now that summer’s close.”

“Fuckin’—yes. Yes. Get whatever you want,” he groaned. “Just don’t stop. Please. Babe, come on… keep sucking.”

You chuckled, letting your tongue drag lazily up his shaft. “You’re so sweet to me, Harry. Makes me wanna be even sweeter to you…”

You spit on his cock, stroked it with your hand, then took him back in deeper than before, choking a little, eyes watering, gagging on it, but never once pulling back. He looked down at you like he was watching a miracle, his breath ragged and his chest heaving. You looked up back at him from between his thighs, your lips shiny with spit and pre-cum, and watched the way his chest rose and fell like he’d just run a marathon.

You licked your lips. “You gonna behave, H?”

He groaned like the answer hurt. “Yeah, babe. Whatever you say.”

“Good,” you purred, climbing up slowly onto his lap, straddling him again. You dragged the soaked crotch of your panties across his length, teasing him with how wet you already were. “Then let me ride you. Since you earned it.”

You lifted your skirt, dragged your soaked underwear to the side and grabbed his cock at the base, guiding him right to your entrance. “You gonna say thank you first?”

His head lolled back, chest rising like he couldn’t breathe. “Thank you, fuck, thank you babe—Thanks for allowing me to fuck you.”

You sank down on him slow, inch by inch, stretching yourself open on his cock, making him watch every second of it. He gasped, a strangled sound from the back of his throat, and you moaned loud and long, grinding your hips down once he was buried fully inside.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “You’re so fucking big, H. Always forget how good you stretch me.”

His hands were everywhere, on your ass, your hips, your waist, trying to ground himself while you pulsed around him, clenching just to make him twitch. You gave him no time to adjust before you started moving, hips rolling and grinding down like you wanted to milk him dry.

“There we go,” you whispered against his mouth. “Now tell me how good it feels.”

Harry’s voice was hoarse and so ruined even though you were barely starting. “Fucking—Jesus. You feel too good. So hot, so tight, babe, fuck!”

You rocked your hips with purpose, clenching around him on every drag up, letting him feel every pulse, every slick ripple of your cunt. “Better than your wife?”

“Yes,” he grunted shamelessly. “Fucking yes, babe. Nothing like this. Nothing like you.”

You smirked, keeping a steady pace that drove him insane. “Yeah? Feels good to fuck your side piece, doesn’t it?”

“Shit.”

You didn’t even care that he was a married man. Maybe that made you a terrible person in some people’s eyes, but you weren’t hurting anyone. Not really. His wife lived blissfully unaware, and you and Harry enjoyed yourselves in all the ways that mattered. You didn’t want anything more from him, you weren’t the kind of girl who dreamed about weddings, marriage and kids. That wasn’t you… you were good with a hard fuck, a new pair of earrings, maybe a designer bag that matched your heels. And Harry? He knew how to provide that for you. You liked him, sure, but what you had right now? It was perfect just like this.

“Bet Jan never fucks you like this.” You leaned in close, your voice filthy against his ear. “Bet you’ve gotta be all sweet and careful with her. Missionary. Lights off. Little kisses on the forehead while you have to play the good husband.”

You smiled, a little wicked and a little triumphant. You picked up your pace, bouncing slowly on his cock, your tits swaying in front of his face. His hands flew to your ass, trying to help, gripping it so tight it almost hurt.

“But with me?” you whispered, dragging your soaked pussy up his shaft before dropping back down with a slap, making him gasp. “You get to be rough. You get to fuck me like your dirty little whore. I get the real you, don’t I?”

“Fuck, yes, yes babe” he rasped, hips twitching up to meet you. “You let me be filthy, you let me say shit I could never—”

“That’s right,” you growled, grabbing him by the throat, not hard, just enough to make him struggle a little for air. “I’m the one you use. I’m the one you ruin.”

“Yes,” he breathed out, trembling. “Fuck yes. You are. You’re my filthy little whore… Jesus Christ, babe.”

“You like this cunt that much?” you teased, bouncing harder now, each slap of your ass on his thighs echoing through the room. “Wanna keep buying me phones and jewelry and pretty little outfits just so I’ll keep letting you use me?”

His mouth dropped open. “Yes—yes, fuck, please. I’ll get you whatever you want, babe. Just don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.”

“God, you’re so pathetic when I ride you like this,” you laughed softly, even as you moaned. “You’re so obsessed with me you can’t even think straight. Probably go home to her with my scent all over your cock.”

You rolled your hips in a deep, slow circle, and he let out a broken sound, like he might cry from how good it felt.

“You think about me when you’re in bed with her?” you whispered in his ear, your tongue flicking out to taste the sweat on his neck. “Having that boring vanilla sex?“

“Yes—fuck! I do, babe, I can’t help it—”

You bounced harder now, hands on his chest, fucking him like you wanted to milk him dry. He was a wreck, red-faced, eyes glassy, moaning like a sinner begging for forgiveness.

Ever since you’d started seeing Harry, you’d indulged in all kinds of things together, things he’d never even heard of or imagined himself doing before you came along. You were young, and so fucking horny, and that was a deadly combination.

You introduced him to toys he’d never seen before, made him use them on you, on himself, until it felt like his world had a new meaning. You let him be as rough as he wanted, encouraged it even, because you loved how he’d grow when you moaned his name into the pillow as he took you from behind. You tried positions only someone with your flexibility could pull off, grinning wickedly every time you bent in ways that had his eyes rolling back. You even let him fuck your ass when he was extra good, something he used to think he’d never get to do with someone like you. You’d forbid him from cumming some nights, riding him for hours until he was desperate, clenching around him and whispering filth in his ear while his balls ached and begged for mercy, and you’d deny him over and over again. And then there were the other nights, the opposite, when you wouldn’t stop until he was shaking, so wrung out and overstimulated he could barely form words, you’d ride orgasm after orgasm out of him, with your mouth or hand or cunt, until he was sobbing from how good it felt, how too much it was. Your sex life with Harry was anything but boring. It was intense and so addictive.

“She probably flinches when you grab her hair, huh?” You smirked and leaned down to whisper in his ear again. “Does she even let you fuck her face? Huh? Gets wet like I do if you smack her ass till it’s red? Cause I let you spit in my mouth and cum on my face and I thank you for it, H.”

“Fuck, babe,” he growled. “You’re the best. Please, please don’t stop”

“Beg for it then.” You smirked, slowing down, holding yourself still on his cock.

“Babe,” he gasped. “Please ride me. Please, fuck—I’ll do anything. I’ll get you the phone, the necklace, a fucking new car. Just move.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, slowly starting again, letting your pussy squeeze around him. “That’s more like it, Harry.”

“Oh yes—Oh fuck, please, babe, I’m so close… Gonna blow.”

“You better not cum until I say so,” you snapped, grabbing his chin to make him look at you. “You’re mine to fuck. And I tell you when you cum.”

Harry nodded fast. “Yes, yes, yours, all yours.”

Your pace got rougher, the sound of skin on skin loud and obscene in the room, your thighs slapping against his. Your clit was dragging just right against the base of him, every grind pushing you closer, his cock twitching inside you like he was dying to let go.

You leaned down, letting your lips brush his. “I think I want a weekend away somewhere expensive. Somewhere you don’t take her because you’re too ‘busy with work’.”

“God, yes, we’ll go anywhere you want. Please, just keep riding me.”

You moaned loud, letting your orgasm start to build, letting him feel how close you were by the way you clenched around him, the way your moans turned higher, sweeter, meaner. His hands were fisting at his sides, and you could tell he was so close, just one squeeze away from falling apart.

“Say it,” you breathed. “Say I’m your perfect little whore.”

“You are,” he groaned. “You’re my perfect little whore, fuck, please let me cum, please.”

“Uh-uh.” You tapped his cheek lightly, “beg a little more.” You lifted yourself off his cock, his slick length slipped free with a wet sound, and he let out a strangled, almost pained little whine. “You don’t get to cum that easy.”

“Are you serious?” he growled. “I’ve been good, fuck—said I’d get you the damn phone, didn’t I?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed sweetly while stroking his slick cock with featherlight touches. You let a string of spit drip down onto his shaft, rubbing it in with the palm of your hand, giving him just enough friction to keep him aching for more.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Please, put it inside again. I’ll do whatever you want, just… fuck, keep going. I need to cum so bad it fucking hurts.”

You climbed back into his lap and eased him back inside you slowly, watching the way his face crumpled in relief, like he could barely believe it. His hands grabbed your ass hard, guiding your rhythm, thrusting his hips up to meet every bounce, driving himself deeper into you with brutal force.

Harry sucked his fingers into his mouth with a pop, he dragged them down to your chest, closed them around your nipple, pinching it soft at first, testing their sensitivity today, then rougher when he heard the moan you couldn’t hold back. The his other hand drifted lower, grazing your stomach, brushing your navel, until it found your clit, so swollen and needy, and his fingers traced fast circles, smearing your wetness around the puffy nub.

His slick-covered fingers then traveled to your face, he didn’t ask you to open your mouth, didn’t ask for permission, he just shoved two fingers inside, knuckles deep. You whimpered but received the invasion with eagerness, your tongue exploring, licking the length of them slowly like a desperate little thing, your mouth sucking them as if it was his cock. You looked at him in the eye while still sucking, offering him your biggest innocent face, as if you weren’t riding his cock and sucking his fingers right now at the same time, and Harry growled like a wounded animal, he looked furious with lust.

You moaned around his fingers, letting yourself gag a little on them, covering them in your own spit. Strings of saliva clung between your lips and his fingers when he finally took them out, dragging along your tongue.

You let out a long, low moan, arching your back in pleasure, and then you finally said the words he was dying to hear. “Cum for me, H. Fill me up, now.”

Harry came with a shout, and you followed him right away, his cock was throbbing violently inside you, and you felt the hot spurts of cum coating your insides, his body trembling beneath yours as you kept grinding, slow and deep, milking every last drop from him.

You collapsed against him, laughing a little breathlessly as he clung to you like a man who’d just barely survived. You stayed seated on his lap, pussy still wrapped around his spent cock, feeling him twitch every time your walls fluttered around him, feeling how his cum slowly slid out of you, thick and still watm, edging down around his softening cock, dripping over the curve of his shaft, slicking his balls, soaking your thighs. Your hands ran up his chest, in slow and soothing movements, drawing little circles over his tattoos as you admired the absolute state of him.

“You should get one with my name,” you murmured, lazily tracing the ink on his chest with your finger.

Harry let out a breathless chuckle. “Yeah, right.”

“What?” you teased. “I just gave you the best orgasm of your life. I think that earns me something permanent.”

He hummed. “Hmm… you deserve a lot of things.”

Your finger trailed lower, over his abs. “Speaking of which… didn’t you say something about getting me a new car?”

He let out a strangled little groan, giving you a weak glare. “You’re relentless.”

You grinned and kissed him again, slow and sweet this time, your lips brushing his lazily. “Be a good boy and spoil your girl.”

And god, with the way he nodded, weak and obedient, and so completely gone for you? You almost wanted to ride him again just to see how much more of him you could take.

Join the tag list here

A/N: I’m still not taking requests, but funnily enough, I had something with a sugar daddy dynamic sitting in my drafts from way back before I even got this request. And I just happened to feel like writing for Harry, so I went ahead and finished it.

Now hear me out, I didn’t plan for this to be more than one part, but I was watching this one episode of Ginny & Georgia and thought: WHAT IF, in a second part, reader made Harry believe she’s pregnant with his baby just for giggles??

I hope you enjoy this one, thank you so much for your constant support, your likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated🩷🩷

tags: @ducksareswagy @conrzd @xmrsbutlerx @potter-solomons @bhyunrosies @freyadronning @laufeysons @moonbeamott @mani-pedro @ohthisisanna @moonlightbored345 @faithhhhhsblog @sweetnspicychicken @marisolpusheen @youngadult9016 @alexxavicry @tr199yc0841n @serenity-1221 @feveredvisions @Ghostlover19 @frenchaurora

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

[midnight1nk]

So, the Guns N' Puzzles movie....

[spoilers below cut]

hello, dear fellows, and welcome to the finale of this arc! This has been incredibly exciting not only to see more of this great discussion about choice, but of course to be a part of it. And yall know me, as always, I got:

closet-cosplay of WPNZ, had to dress up for the premiere

a bowl of cereal as this event's treat of choice

and ofc I got my bingo card, speaking of which I made my own version (Ink Certified) and anytime I find something, it'll be highlighted pink in this review :)

I will say, if my camera watcher theory is ever mentioned in the movie, I would scream. If not, I'd still scream if they do in the future.

Thoughts before the movie: well uh, I honestly don't know what to expect, bc let's be real, this could go in any direction. So, concerned but hyped!! I do trust the Team to stick the landing, I know they can. BRING IT ON. Probably wouldn't teary eye like I did in SOTC but who knows. OMG the final countdown is starting!

3...2...1...!! happy new year oh wait, whoops LET'S GOOOO

(the following is my live reaction:)

it's still crazy that the Team decided to shadow-drop the movie just like that, no teaser or trailer. it definitely got us talking

oh boy, here we go AAAA

SOTC FLASHBACK 🫵

OUGH the deal, we're already getting into this already? I'm telling you, the terms might change (and WPNZ might not get his memories erased)

hold up, (end of) PUZZLEVISION MENTION

OFC PUZZLES WOULD HAVE THAT AS A STAND-IN FOR 4 *wheeze*

"Wonderful, perfect Beggy" AAA sorry, getting jumpscared by that word. But fr it's how Puzzles viewed his friendship with Leggy in general, perfect until the Crew "took it away" from him and therefore blaming them with the biggest grudge

the toaster as WPNZ? *looks at them side-by-side* huh.

AH, so this was what the ultimate plan was. I really hope he doesn't go through with it, but considering he has a grudge on them (mostly on 4), it's a low chance

...eye of *gets ran over by bus* I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO SAY IT but that's very 5Star!Puzzles right there

one last call? It's Meggy, isn't it

"CRT screen" ah, that's interesting [Theory Notes updated in the Court Record] That would explain the bulkiness of his head, plus an idea of his timeline

Conflicted, eh Puzzles? Well, the description did say he had to make a choice so, this might be it

IT'S SHOWTIME!!!

we are using (some) of the stolen items for the breakout, cool cool. I got the list right here. okay, so we can cross out Bob's drill and Mario's mushroom

just. WPNZ being a dad :)

SOTC FLASHBACK x2 🫵 (can't really blame WPNZ for remembering bc timeline-wise, it didn't happen too long ago either)

this is found family if I ever seen one

can we just appreciate this map real quick?

"don't slip" aw puzzles does care deep down 🥹💙

Toomp is their son confirmed /hj

grand finale? but the movie just started, Puzzles smh

and i oop—

WAIT. ARE THEY ACTUALLY GONNA DANCE OMG

WE'RE GETTING A MUSICAL DUET??!?!?

ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!??!

if you happen to hear screaming from the other side of the world, that's me

don't mind me, I'm just going to clip this scene for the rest of my life

oh, and there's Toomp using 3's super bomb

👏👏👏 BRAVO BRAVO ¡QUÉ MARAVILLOSO!

same hal same

somehow all the great gunshow moments happen to have bisexual lighting, it does make you wonder

oh, so that's what the Miku figurine was for, I did guess that it was gonna be used as a distraction of some time. but fr what are they gonna do with 4's PC? was it just out of pettiness?

(also, I gotta do the thing: HATSUNE MIKU, IS THAT YOU?!?!?)

hi Meggy! wait, you're cooking 😅 oh.

SMG4: "I cannot believe you're seriously letting HIM into my castle" OH shit, so she did tell them. okay, so that changes things.

fr thanks meggy for making it clear for the people in the back (some people just don't get it)

doing good vs doing the right thing and etc. -> I love these kinda discussions bc there is a difference and I find it fascinating yet unsurprising that 4 doesn't consider himself "a hero"

ooh Meggy's definitely putting the pieces together but she's still holding onto that hope that Puzzles would change

so apparently back to the found family completing the breakout

the fact that WPNZ is hesitating speaks volumes fr, but it is sweet that he would like to go commit more crimes together

Trust the ✨Vision✨

considering that WPNZ has done jobs this risky before, fair enougn for him to be questioning it

fuck man, i REALLY hope they don't go through with it :( even Toomp's suspecting that something's wrong

and they ran out of time, THEY GOTTA GO

🫵 OLD

"Toomp has had enough of your bullshit" "You couldn't have done that sooner?" *WHEEZE* well, chat: new reaction image just dropped

OUGH WPNZ SAID "that's my halfpint" TO TOOMP, THE SAME NICKNAME FOR HIS KIDS 😭 ueueue

paid leave? oh HELL YEAH

NOT SINCE.... (oh so we really are going with the found family route, that was mainly just a hc ngl)

ah ofc. the government.

....tf is that? the Death Cube? looks like it from the silhouette

I'm just going to go ahead and malfunction now. like. the vibes here.

can't believe this show invented gay people

we're not beating the "WPNZ adopted Toomp" allegations, I see

not that we have a canon age for Toomp, he is slime/goo, but if it turned out that he's in his 30s or smth, it's both funny and sweet. the beauty of found family, finding people that care for you

Teletubbies -> PV mention, I see you

my child eats paper /silly (also lowkey, what was Toomp reading there?)

Man, it's moments like these where I need to shake someone by the shoulders /silly

We already got this interesting dynamic between these two (dare I say a "two sides, same coin" situation) so there are things they can connect with, understand one another. But it's also that fact that WPNZ can keep Puzzles grounded from her own spiraling thoughts. And then on top of it. wanting to enjoy the moment while it lasts

and I mean "while it lasts" bc there's the Death Cube rn

DEATH FRIDGE ADHL;GJK no yeah, that was a good one

also the trio laughing brings me joy

....hell nah, we're outta here

i did spot giant BeegSMG4 in the background there

NO THE RALSEI PLUSHIE

oh hey, cube! didn't expect you to be in this movie

anyone got a powerscale tierlist? bc we're gonna need to update that after this movie

SOTC FLASHBACK x3 🫵

I'm telling yall, found family wins every time

Toomp truly be the MVP here

*turns chair around* Team, you can't getting away with it /j

(I did say they can cheat around it with a "princess carry" moment >:D)

WPNZ: "Someone oughta put us in a movie" haha, get it? also bc that's Puzzles whole shtick

THAT SOFT LOOK, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? this movie is for the gunshow shippers frfr

FERRIS WHEEL MENTION 🫵 (sorry sorry, I had to)

*table literally on fire* this looks delightful

7:30?! damn it got dark real fast

Meggy's really hoping, huh.

🥹 THAT'S OUR BOY RIGHT THERE. Maybe he can't fully understand why Meggy's doing this, but whatever happens, he'll always be there for support, for his friends. Even if it means putting his own grudge on Puzzles aside for the timebeing

Peak SMG4 character moment

and the trio apparently found a van, who would've thought

Puzzles: "ABSOLUTE CINEMA" SHE SAID THE THING!!!

...is this the ultimate decision Puzzles has, the border or the Showgrounds?

why is this nerve-wracking for me? fuck man

...omg, that scene was beautifully well-done. Probably haven't talked about it but WPNZ having a character development throughout all this, wow!! Didn't expect that and you can say that I'm proud?? of him for that, good for him. Do be changing the terms of that deal, huh.

WPNZ: "But you should think about letting go. Like I did." *head in hands* Puzzles can't let go, that's the thing. Even if being in this trio, she can't.

here we go, time to make the choice

*Showgrounds sign reveal* I knew it, goddammit

well, Toomp, you tried

LAYWER MEGGY LET'S GOOOOO <- I'm very normal about this, I promise

btw while we're at it, I'm counting the grudge 4 and Puzzles have on the other as a parallel

I mean, they were expecting you to arrive, Puzzles

well, shit it's the police

waitwaitwait, ace attorney ost guessing time! ok, this track is "Telling the Truth" (2001) which is quite fitting haha

oop you slipped up, Puzzles. Meggy's a lawyer for a reason

another AA track!! looks like "Suspense" (2001) came back for the movie :)

The truth is gonna come out, whether you want it to or not

...oh fuck. (please don't go through with it, please don't)

NOOOOOOOOOOOO GOD FUCKIN DAMMIT

like I had a feeling it was gonna happen but. *head in hands* whyyyyy <- and I know why

(welp, that fact that Puzzles' head can become a taperecorder, that's got (angst) potential)

shiiiiiiiiiiiiit

ok, first off: this whole movie was the Team giving a kiss to the brick before hurdling it at us, which OW

second: I can't even describe to you how my heart sank THROUGH THE GROUND for WPNZ in that moment. Gotta do an obligatory "you can actually pinpoint the second when his heart rips in half"

but also, third:

did the Team just pulled a parallel from 4 and 3 from IGBP (unintentionally most likely)? hm, well played.

no yeah, WPNZ crashing out is totally valid here. I'm devastated for him

oh the Crew would have questions about this

I'm sorry, huh?

they just went to the TV Dimension omg <- is both concerned and excited

WPNZ PLUSHIE??!?!?

WPNZ: "You don't deserve real friends. Not anymore." we speedran to divorce, huh

this fight is really cool to see, props to the Team, but this is also so heartbreaking,,

yep, WPNZ is right. Puzzles used them, they were all tricked. And Meggy, particularly Leggy, saw the truth too

I've got been clutching my plushies this whole time btw. I. I'm just speechless.

oh Meggy :( you tried

"you can actually pinpoint the second when his heart rips in half" x2

uh ok, so I might actually cry in this movie. omg.

And it's the thing, I don't blame Meggy here, and never have. She really tried to help out, hoping that there would be change. But ultimately, Puzzles made his choice and this was a result. Broken the one condition Meggy had, no tricks or games. This only proven what 4 has been telling them all. (I'll definitely talk about this more, are you kidding me /lh)

*wpnz breaking out of static mode* oh my god.... *death fridge cube barging into the Castle* AH CRAP

waitwaitwait, hold up. did you guys see this?

"Real name?" does WPNZ actually have a name? No, better question: why would the government have record of it? 🤔 I mean, I always thought that "Mr WPNZ" was a codename Hitman Inc gave him/a name he gave to himself from his unknown past, but to have this? huh.

phew, at least WPNZ got himself and Toomp out of there. And that's the thing, he is more than just "going into the fight guns blazing"; he's an experience fighter. While he evaluated himself being able to stand a chance against the Death Cube, he knows that the better choice is to retreat. This isn't just taking care of himself anymore, it's worrying for someone else, that being Toomp. Probably hasn't done that since Karen.

please don't scan the crew please don't scan the crew please don't scan the crew

okok, the Cube's gone (certainly don't need another heartattack rn)

that moment right there is everything. It was incredibly written and exactly what 4 needed to tell Meggy. I couldn't say it better myself. also the fact that I see them as found siblings, that hug meant a lot to me specifically (can I lowkey get a hug too)

did you guys see 3 there? he looked pretty pissed ngl. was it bc of the coupon or ???

so, WPNZ and Toomp are on the run, huh. I really do hope they're safe, away from the Death Fridge. At least they got each other :'(

yea ok why don't you go ahead and rip my heart out, Team,, I don't need another reminder of the divorce

*head in hands* Puzzles still has the bullet......

"I trusted you!" HE DID, WPNZ REALLY DID

oh you got to be kidding me, NOT THE FLASHBACKS STAWP

Team, I'm need to grab yall by the shoulders istg, yall are insane for this /aff

not only did you bring it all back with a parallel to WPNZ at the end of SOTC, but you also brought the teaser back for the second time in this arc

Puzzles was right: WPNZ truly was a star in this movie, and just as these two have paralleled each other many times before, they're left broken, alone rain. But what's truly painful, it's that they lost their family. People who have they trusted.

And, here is Puzzles with a single bullet, now a reminder of great regret. Really mirrors how Karen was given the grenade ring from WPNZ and how she regrets being associated with him at all.

...alright Team, you got me 😭 is that what you wanted?? /silly

Puzzles: "I'm going to fix this..." uh what did you mean by that? Team, what did she mean by that?

WHAT NONONO THIS CAN'T BE IT? I WANT MOREEEE

luke, I'm having an emotional moment here /ref. that's right, there better be more i swear *head in hands*

i do like the WPNZ plushie, yes. and that puzzles keychain is so gooby /aff

i desperately need that WPNZ and Toomp keychain, I would like to carry around my found family plz

...so that's it, huh. what am i supposed to do with my life after that?

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

So, you're probably wondering how I feel after watching the premiere, and I can only describe it as this:

naurrrr my $30 mascara.... /ref

alright, let's get real this time. Wow, just wow. This was an amazing movie, it might even surpass SOTC!! I've told yall from time to time that if you managed to get me emotional, you deserve appreciation and praise bc ay caray.... And even more if I end up speechless afterward. Now, that's a feat.

Can we talk about the story? We gotta talk about the story!!

Throughout this whole arc, it brought some topics into discussion. Redemption. The complex feelings one can have for another due to their wrongdoing. The law itself (heh, who would've thought that would happen). But most of all, the message that's emphasized not only in this arc, it's one of the biggest messages in the entire show:

The choice and the truth.

The truth, it's absolute. It's the only thing that exists in a black and white view. What people choose to do with it and how they perceive it, now that's within its shades of gray. I'll give you an example, with this arc as a matter of fact:

The truth? Puzzles tricked everyone for his plans to go exactly how he wanted them to be.

It doesn't seem that black and white tho, right? Stubborn and afraid of being alone again, Puzzles wanted to have Leggy, or Meggy by extension, to be his friend again. In his eyes, "performing" was the only way people would like him, that he was any worth. He'd hoped his first ever friendship wasn't completely over, and was indeed conflicted about his feelings toward WPNZ and Toomp. But in the end, he made the choices he made, despite getting so many chances to redeem himself, and he was left alone in the rain, only a reminder of what he did to prevent that truth from coming out.

The truth didn't change.

Then there was Meggy, who believed in his redemption. It's within her character, it's a part of her that can see the good in people. After the people closest to her never got a chance to live the way they wished to, ofc she would want to prevent that if she could. Yes, she was hurt for what Puzzles had done to her previously but she was also the one who saw his true side in the mindscape. She can't exactly forgive him and he has to hold accountability for his actions, but there was a chance for Puzzles to grow. Even if the people around her think otherwise. But in the end, she saw the truth due to Puzzles and initially took the blame for not seeing it when she was close to figuring it out.

The truth didn't change.

All stories, no matter how outlandish it seems, are grounded in reality. And that's what I like about this. If given the truth, what do you do? Bad people can act for good while having bad intentions. Good people can act for bad while having good intentions. And yet, the truth is absolute.

Just some pretty interesting stuff I wanted to share, my two cents haha. Aside from that, I do wanna highlight a bit on WPNZ's character development. Ofc he'll still be proud of his kids but he realized that it was time to let his bitterness go and start anew. Well then, what's gonna be the future for the show?

For starters, WOTFI time is coming up and it'll be curious what it would be this time for the challenges since the PV website dead now (RIP 🕊️). I heard from the community that some people want the Puzzles' story to continue there, some don't. I think it would be interesting to have a change, give both Meggy and Puzzles a break. Let the Team cook for next year! It would be cool to see Toomp or 3 get the spotlight. Tari or Melony perhaps?

We know that WPNZ and Toomp are currently on the run rn, we could have some adventures with them from time to time. Maybe random encounters with Karen and/or Hitman Inc. But what we don't know is Puzzles.

When Puzzles said the last line about "fixing it", some people assumed that he's gonna make up the relationship he had with WPNZ and Toomp and earn their trust, which fair enough. But what exactly did he mean by "fixing it"? Over this whole arc, there have been multiple definitions in fixing. The first time was in the deal he made, where Puzzles could "fix" WPNZ by erasing the memories of his family. The second time was literally fixing WPNZ up and putting his limbs back together. But every time he emphasizes how he hasn't given up and that he could still fix things, we can be sure it's how Puzzles is like as a character (need to "perform", stubborn, perfectionist, etc). So naturally, he's not gonna give up on this new plan.

Can it really just be "fixing" his friendships? Sure, it could.

But there could be something else too. It's the thing they made it clear in the movie, that Puzzles isn't the type to let things go so easily. It took the truth from Meggy to hit him like a pile of bricks to realize his mistakes. And it's not just that. The amusement park, the one he dreamed about as a kid? It got taken down. The TV show he wanted for his audience? He has no creative vision. His found family? He lost them. His first ever friend? Gone.

Well, if he can't see what he did, then who else could take most of the blame? Why, his narrative foil ofc: SMG4. Meggy said it herself, she believed in Puzzles but what he did only proved what 4 has been telling her, that Puzzles can never change. I have talked about it before how 4 is what Puzzles wishes to be but doesn't realize they're one of the same, two sides same coin situation. It's what he said before, "I'm nothing like him" bc in his eyes it's true. Plus, he already had a grudge against 4 wat before he met Leggy, so who's to say this didn't add another thing to blame on the "it's 4's fault" list. Not likely but we do have to consider the possibilities here.

Moving on, can we give props to the SMG4 Team for this movie (and arc in general)? 👏🎉 Everyone on the SMG4 Team has done such an incredible job!! The writing, the animation, the voice acting, the storyboards. Shout-out to Clubbins, Shadow, Wiz, Starteas, Star, Anaidon, Braden, Rae, Aaron, Ben, and everyone who worked on this. And ofc Luke and Kevin for having this show in the first place.

Thank you!!

Some of them have been posting some of their behind-the-scenes work (yes, here on Tumblr!!) like Starteas, Clubbins, and Wiz so please go show some love and appreciation!! As always, remember to be kind and respectful 💙

Why don't we look over that bingo, huh?

AY I GOT DOUBLE BINGO 🎉

I do wanna take the time to say thank you to the SMG4 Tumblr for participating in giving suggestions or for playing! This has been a wonderful tradition we had since WOTFI 2024. I do hope that we not only continue this in the future but also enjoy the hype we had for his arc. As a theorist and a reporter, this means a lot to me ^^

But also it's crazy that I added a bullet illustration just for the funsies, went "haha it looks like Puzzles is about to get shot", and then to see a bullet break Puzzles emotionally. what have I done? /silly

Once again, this was amazing spectacular showstopping beautiful, all around. Team, thank you so much for taking the time and work into this, we can't wait to see more. Also, WOTFI 2025, ooh very exciting!! This is why I love this show, my named Saturday Morning Cartoon (TM). That's going to be all from me. I'll see yall next time, and remember: numbers always go first!

....so anyway this was the best and worst day for the gunshow shippers. for me specifically tf

[asexualbookbird]

I FINISHED MY SEWING PROJECT WOOOOOO! And then read almost nothing for a couple of weeks about it. Went to a few craft days at the library, and then a chocolate and tea event at the library, reached out as a volunteer and will likely be helping with end of summer reading programs as well. Given the state of the world, I'm trying to reach out to the parts of my community I care about. It's scary, but I'm doing it scared.

I've also been tasked with doing a couple samples for the yarn shop! Can't share it because turns out the colors chosen are perfect for a friend and yarn shop says I can send it off when it's done being displayed. Someone remind me to take progress pictures for later posting.

Despite fewer sewing hours for audiobooks, I still managed to get through more of my yearly list! I now have two more books on my Illumicrate list before I've completed that section, and I think I may actually do that.

The Storm Crow by Kayln Josephson ⭐️⭐️⭐️ – Too much romantic pining, not enough crows. Once the crow hatched I started having more fun, but I think you should have more on your mind while your kingdom is in peril than the cute baker with strong arms. I do like the cute baker with string arms though, I will say that. Probably the least offensive YA love triangle.

Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace ⭐️⭐️⭐️ – Fine and interesting, but something felt missing. Even having read Firebreak and Flight & Anchor, I found things to be a little confusing. The ending was the best as everything came together, but getting there was slow going. Also not sure why this is included on ace lists. I mean I know the characters are ace, but there's no inclination from the text. At least let him kill the woman who implied he only cared about his partner because they were romantically involved (they were not). Still not a bad read, just. Not as good as it could be.

The Art of Destiny by Wesley Chu ⭐️⭐️ – The fact I read fourteen (plus an immediate reread) books in the time it took to finish this says it all, to be honest. It was very slow with no payoff and I always found something better to do. Will try book three, but I won't force myself to finish it like I did this one.

Julia Child’s Kitchen by Paula Johnson ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ – Who wants to go on a trip with me to The Smithsonian? I MUST see this kitchen. I know our beloved Julia Child has been gone for twenty years, but when we got to that part, I still felt like I was losing a friend! And The whole point of the book was cataloging the dismantling and reassembling of her kitchen for the museum, and still! When they dismantled it, I felt like I was losing a friend! She really did change so much about cooking education I love her.

The Girl From the Other Side: Deluxe Editions I and II by Nagabe ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ – I don’t usually rate manga until I’ve finished the series, but this was SO good. My friend got me these for my birthday and now I’m trying to source the rest because I need this series to ruin me emotionally. Also pleased to be reminded of Elias from Magus’ Bride only to come to tumblr and discovered him and Teacher are Shipped. Keep up the good work, tumblr.

Black Flame by Gretchen Felker-Martin ⭐️ – I will admit, when I realized this was the same author who wrote Manhunt, I was skeptical. Manhunt is on my Do Not Read list because I just don’t think I will vibe with it. This confirms that fact. Probably wouldn’t have read this if it wasn’t free. I’m way too asexual for it, but also? The writing just wasn’t that good? Reminded me of Hell Followed With Us in some ways. That’s not a compliment.

A Dark and Drowning Tide by Allison Saft ⭐ – My biggest hang up is on the Fantasy Judaism that isn't all that Fantasy. Just because you call it Yevanish doesn't mean you can take things about Jewish history and slap it onto your character that 1) pulls away from her family and religion and 2) joins the German guy who is perpetuating antisemitism because he promised to colonize fantasy Europe and give it to your people. Adelaide was right and no one wants to admit it. The romance wasn't even good, they spent 70% of the time arguing until they decided to fuck about it.

Opening Fire (Old Guard vol. 1) by Greg Rucka ⭐️⭐️⭐️ – Ah. I'm sorry, but I prefer the movie. If only because I think the art is Hideous.

I also started Hammajang Luck, but since I finished it well into August 2nd, it'll be on next months wrap up. August brings a round of doctors appointments for EDS evaluation in my hands, and if all goes well I should have splints by the end of the month and I am SO excited about it. I still have to find someone to Officially Diagnose me so I can find out how to handle neck and hip pain, but it's a start!

Being so close to finihsing my Illumicrate goals has be eager to just jump right in to my last couple of books. I'm not saying that's an August Goal, but it might be an August Goal. I also have to read Dune for book club. I do not want to read Dune. How can I make reading Dune fun.

I haven't been doing much art lately, as I've been working on yarn shop projects, but my commissions are still open if anyone is interested in helping pay for my teeth in September. My phone bill for that month is paid thanks to the kindness of the internet, so anything moving forward will go directly to teeth! I appreciate the kindness of the internet, cannot express that enough <3

[ourceliumnetwork]

c-PTSD can go fuck itself. now i gotta figure out if i can calm tf back down from a trigger or if i'm gonna have to miss out on Lovely Times With Friends for Love and Community purposes.

[kiyoomiee]

part one. part two. part three. part four.

boxer!sukuna who’s a menace in and out of the ring. Even with a bit of blood on his face, he didn’t hesitate to wink and point a finger at you when they finally announced that he’s the champion for match.

He didn’t even bother to wait for his heavyweight championship belt, he got out of the ring and went straight to where you were.

boxer!sukuna who forgets that all eyes were on him as he lifted you up and hugged you. The Sukuna, letting everyone see this side of him all because of you.

“I’m so proud of you ‘kuna.” You buried your face on his neck. You were avoiding the blinding lights of camera flashes, getting all red and shy under Sukuna’s hold.

“Sukuna! How do you feel now that you’ve won the championship again?”

“How did you prepare yourself for this season?”

“Are you in a relationship?”

“Sukuna! Tell us something about her!”

The reporters threw questions left and right. But Sukuna only smiled, his eyes still locked on you.

“She’s the girl I’ve been obsessed with for so long, and I plan to make her mine.”

boxer!sukuna who can’t get his hands off of you during his celebratory dinner party. His large palm alternated between touching your thigh and your waist, grinning as he saw you blush.

“Stop it Ryo.” You whispered against his ear when his fingers crept up higher on your thigh.

“Ryo? That’s a new one baby.” Fuck, he loves it when you give him nicknames.

“You’re drunk aren’t you? You’re gonna forget about this in the morning.”

“Not drunk, ‘m just so in love with you.” You saw how his pupils dilated as he stared at your lips.

Weirdly enough, he hasn’t initiated anything more and always stuck with touching you even during your date with him.

You can’t get that day out of your head. Sukuna spared no expense just to make everything perfect. He even reserved an entire restaurant just so he could have you all to himself that night.

“Sukuna, why haven’t you tried to kiss me yet?” You asked as your eyes went from his eyes down to his lips.

Noticing your little act, he licked his lower lip before he answered-

“Because it won’t end with just kissing. Plus, I’m trying to be respectful until you get comfortable with me.” His ears turned red as he looked away.

You did it. You had the Ryōmen Sukuna shy and flustered under your gaze.

“So you don’t want to kiss me?” He looked back at you with a scowl.

“Fuck baby, are you kidding? I wanted to kiss you since the day we met.”

“Hmm, should I let you kiss me though?” You drew circles on his thigh using your nails to tease him.

His hand touched your chin while his other arm captures your waist to pull you closer against him. Then he does something you’d never expect, he begs.

“Please let me kiss you, baby. Been wanting it for so long.”

With your nod of approval, he wasted no time and went straight in. Finally, feeling your lips against his made him groan. You gasped when you felt his hand on your thigh, trying to find the outline of your panties as a payback for teasing him. He used that chance to dive his tongue in your mouth.

Your body felt hot all over. Giving into his touch, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. How you managed to fight back your desire for him for so long, you’d never know.

It was clear that Sukuna savored the feeling of your lips against his so much, that you had to push against his chest just so you could breath.

“Damn you Sukuna, let me breathe.” You panted against him.

Not listening to your words, he gives you a peck one more time and finishes with a chaste kiss against the pulse point under your ear.

“We need to leave.” The urgency in his tone left you confused.

“What? Why?”

“It’s your fault baby. I tried to warn you that it won’t end with a kiss.”

“But it’s your party, we can’t just leave!”

“Trust me, we have to leave or I’ll fucking come in my pants. Plus, the paparazzi already has enough pictures of us kissing.” You were sure the two of you will be in front of the headlines once again.

“But I like kissing you.” You pouted.

“Then let’s go home right now baby. You’ll love me after you spend the night in my bed.”

[seellove]

dad!Sukuna x reader

Sukuna recently gets out of jail and immediately knocks you up. He is determined to step up and provide for you both.

WC: 1k. TW: unplanned pregnancy

Sukuna always said he’d have kids with you. He just didn’t mean within a few months of getting out of jail.

That honeymoon phase lead to you both being reckless. It’s not like you’d been sleeping with anyone while he was away, so there was no need for birth control in your life. Then he surprised you by getting out on parole and well…you quite literally couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

Out of condoms in the middle of the night? No problem, he’d pull out. Plus what are the odds that you’d actually get pregnant, women are only fertile for such a short window anyways this one time wouldn’t hurt…

Fast forward to the present day and Sukuna is kissing you good night. He rarely goes to sleep with you, trying to expedite getting his degree by studying at night after working a full day shift.

He may have been incarcerated the last 3 years, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from being the best father and partner that he could be.

The night he saw you crying on the bathroom floor changed him. Three positive tests leered at you from the counter and in that moment he knew he had to man up. Hearing you say things like “I can’t believe my baby daddy barely has a job and just got out of jail” internally upset him, but deep down he knew you were right.

The honeymoon period was over, no more inconsistent hours at the garage, no more sleeping in until noon, and no more constantly coming onto you causing neither of you to get out of the bed for hours.

Sukuna swore he would provide for you and the baby. He’d finish that degree he started long ago so he could own his own garage, be his own boss.

He’d be there for you every step of the way unlike when he was in jail and you were doing life alone. He was serious about you and this baby, in fact, he’d always been ride or die for you, he just didn’t have a great way of showing it, defaulting to his playful and goofy side.

Sukuna didn’t plan, didn’t look five steps ahead, just lived in the moment and did what felt good at the time. And quite frankly you were the same way, enjoying life to the fullest after the love of your life was finally released.

The ultrasound made it more real. Sukuna seeing his tiny baby on that grainy screen made him shed a tear. So small and helpless, his baby needed him to get his shit together because the rest of the pregnancy was going to go fast.

That little blob on the screen got bigger and bigger. Even though Sukuna worked seven days a week, picking up extra shifts while also doing his college work at night, he still never missed an appointment with you.

Even though he made so much progress on his degree, he still had a few more months to go before he could finish when the baby came.

You both agreed to put it on hold the first few weeks. Trying to figure out how to keep this little pink haired boy alive was terrifying and being there for each other was paramount.

After about a month you told Sukuna to get back to his schooling, in the long term it was important, you’d take care of the baby at night.

Except he refused, demanding you sleep through the night and he’d tend to the baby while studying. As long as there was enough formula and you supplemented with pumping, he could feed the baby through the night.

Therein started his nightly routine. He’d lay with you in the bed while you breastfed, talking about anything and everything. Once you were done, he’d go lay the baby down to come back and hold you until you fell asleep.

Slowly he’d slip away, leaving one more parting kiss on your cheek. Sukuna would go down the hall to the nursery and set his computer up. Sometimes he’d watch lectures, write papers, do homework, whatever was needed that night. At this point he was used to being up after working on this degree the past year.

When the baby would stir, Sukuna would gather him up in his strong arms, cradling him against his chest while warming up a bottle. Finally, he’d sit back down, feeding the baby while clicking through lecture slides.

It became your favorite sight. Waking up in the middle of the night to pee, you’d sometimes go poke your head in, just to be met with an adorable sight.

Your man, pink hair in disarray donning pajama pants and no shirt, cradling the baby in one arm while clicking with the other. The baby was fast asleep with Sukuna rocking him every now and then, stopping to take a break and just stare down at the perfect combination of you and him.

Eventually Sukuna would shut everything down, feeding the baby one more time in the early morning hours, and then slip into your shared bad to join you for a few hours.

A lesser man may have been resentful at the end of the night. Never Sukuna though. He loved you more than anything, and now he loved this little baby. Sukuna would do anything for the two of you so he could provide a better life.

He’d always treasure those nights spent with the baby after he got older…his little study buddy as he called him. Nuzzling against your skin, he held you close and drifted off to sleep with you, the love of his life, the mother of his child and the woman who made him a dad.

This is one of the few times he could genuinely say he loved his life and knowing the future he could provide was within reach made every hard day and night worth it all.

This little scene has been living in my mind and I just had to write it down ❤️

[0scarp1astr1]

Spoiled Much? (P2)

જ⁀➴ Desc: || Pranking them but telling them you let another man pay for you. ||

P3

ᯓ★ Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Yuki Tsunoda, Franco Colapinto, Kimi Antonelli, Ollie Bearman, George Russell

ᯓ★ 1x Genre: Humor

ᯓ★ Warning: None

ᯓ★ Requested? Yes

Author Note: Part 2 of Spoiled much, I hope you all enjoy it, these are fun to make, and I am squeezing in as much content as possible for drivers.

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Oscar Piastri

You and Oscar had decided to spend a few quiet days with his family, away from media buzz and cameras. It was peaceful, relaxing — and just what you needed. Plus, it meant bonding time with his mom and sisters… and, well, the perfect opportunity to mess with your tall, calm, sweet-faced boyfriend.

Oscar always told you not to worry about money. “Just tell me what you want, I’ll get it,” he’d say like it was nothing — and while he looked calm on the outside, you knew exactly how to poke the bear. A fake “another guy paid for it” prank? That would definitely stir something.

After a full day of shopping with his mom and sisters, you returned to the house, bags in hand, smile innocent, kiss on his cheek, and his credit card handed back like a dutiful wife.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, pulling you into his side as he kissed your temple.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Didn’t even have to use much of your money.”

Oscar blinked, glancing at the ten shopping bags in your hand. “That’s... hard to believe,” he muttered.

Right on cue, Hattie chimed in. “Oh come on, Osc! The guy was sooo nice, you should’ve seen him. Just strolled up, all confident, and was like, ‘Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll take care of it.’”

Edie nodded. “He even told her to pick the next store and said he’d pay again!”

You bit back your laugh, playing your part perfectly. “Some people are just sweet like that,” you said with a shrug.

Oscar stood still for a moment. Processing. And then—

“Okay hold on, WHAT?” he said, completely blindsided. “He paid for you? Why?! No. Nope. That’s not sweet — that’s sketchy. That’s 'I’m trying to take your girl to dinner and dessert' energy.”

He turned to his mom and sisters like a courtroom defense lawyer. “You let him pay? You encouraged this? I’m her boyfriend. Me. Oscar Piastri. I make millions! I can pay for her to buy a store if she wants!”

That was it — you and the girls lost it, bursting out laughing. Oscar blinked around the room like he was the only one not in on the joke… until he spotted your phone angled toward him from the side table.

His shoulders dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You leaned up and kissed him, still giggling. “You’re so dramatic when you think another man’s trying to buy my affection.”

“Because he was!” Oscar said, exasperated as he turned to walk upstairs.

You followed, juggling your bags. “Come on! You have to admit that was hilarious.”

“I don’t think I trust you on TikTok anymore,” he muttered, disappearing into your shared vacation room.

“I love pranking you!” you called after him.

“I noticed. Especially after the flour incident. And when you made me think someone broke into our Monaco flat,” he said with a shake of his head.

You smirked. “Lando was in on that one. You nearly whacked him with the bat.”

Oscar chuckled under his breath. “Shouldn’t prank me about break-ins — I’m trying to keep you safe, not turn Monaco into a crime scene.”

You flopped onto the bed, bags landing beside you. “So I take it this means war?”

Oscar shrugged, kicking off his shoes. “Just know… I’m not always as chill as I look. One day, I’ll get you back.”

You raised a brow. “Since when do you get in on the prank wars?”

He grinned slightly, slipping under the covers.

“One day, you’ll find out.”

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Yuki Tsunoda

It was a sunny afternoon in Tokyo, where you and Yuki had gone to visit his family and enjoy a break from the F1 madness. Between temple visits, catching up with his childhood friends, and eating your weight in street food, you were having the time of your life. Yuki was extra cuddly on this trip too—maybe it was the home vibes, or maybe he just loved showing you off. Either way, it was perfect.

But perfect wasn’t complete without chaos. And that chaos? A prank.

So when he offered to wait in the car while you ran into the local store for some drinks and snacks, you accepted with a sweet smile and his card in hand. You already knew what you were going to do.

When you returned with a bag of goodies and that signature innocent grin, you handed the card back to him casually. “Didn’t need it after all,” you said, getting into the car.

Yuki blinked. “Why? Did they not take cards?”

You shook your head. “No, actually… this guy behind me in line paid. Said something about a beautiful girl like me not needing to pay for her own stuff.” You said it so calmly, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Yuki sat there. Processing.

Then he blinked again. “Wait. Who?!”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, some guy. He was nice. Complimented my outfit. Said I had a pretty smile.”

Yuki’s jaw dropped like you just told him AlphaTauri was being renamed “Team Random Guy.” “HE SAID WHAT?!”

You looked out the window like it was no big deal. “I mean, it was sweet, really. People can be really generous.”

Yuki turned to you fully. “That’s not generosity! That’s flirting! That’s trying to steal my girlfriend in 4K!”

You bit your lip, barely holding back laughter as he kept going.

“And you just let him?! What was I supposed to do, huh? Sit here like a chump while you got sugar-daddied by Mr. Free Snacks?! I could’ve been in there karate-chopping someone!”

You covered your mouth to hide the giggle.

Yuki pointed a dramatic finger at you. “You are not allowed to be this pretty in public. New rule. Hoodie, sunglasses, ninja mode.”

“I was wearing sweatpants and your hoodie,” you said.

“EVEN WORSE,” he shouted. “He knew it wasn’t even yours! That man paid while you wore MY CLOTHES?!”

You finally broke, bursting into laughter and pointing to your phone in the dashboard mount. “Yuki… it was a prank.”

He followed your finger, saw the red light, and slumped into the seat. “Oh my god… I thought I was gonna have to fight someone. Like, actual punches.”

You leaned over and kissed his cheek. “But you were so cute and protective.”

He narrowed his eyes. “No. No compliments. I’m not falling for your sweet talk.”

“Come onnn,” you teased.

“I hope that guy steps on a Lego.”

“He doesn’t exist, Yuki.”

“I still hope he steps on a Lego. Just in case.”

You giggled as he started the car again, muttering something under his breath in Japanese.

“Love you,” you said sweetly.

He sighed, grabbing your hand.

“Yeah yeah. Love you too. But next time I get to prank you, and I’m going full chaos.”

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Franco Colapinto

You and Franco had a nice dinner out planned—a little place tucked away on a quiet street, somewhere he promised had “the best pasta in the city, I swear on my helmet.” The two of you were tucked into a cozy corner, laughing over shared appetizers, when he suddenly leaned in and whispered, “Mi amor, I need to use the bathroom. If the bill comes, just use my card, okay?”

You nodded sweetly, already sliding his card from his wallet like the loyal girlfriend you were. The moment he disappeared down the hallway, though, the phone was set up—tucked sneakily between the salt shaker and wine bottle, camera rolling. You pulled out your own card and paid with a knowing grin.

A few minutes later, Franco returned, hair slightly tousled, sleeves pushed up like he had just gotten into a brawl with the hand dryer. “Did the bill come?”

“Yeah,” you said casually, handing back his card. “But I didn’t need it. A gentleman saw me sitting alone and paid for it. Said no beautiful woman should have to pay for her own dinner.”

Franco blinked. Twice. Then very slowly sat down in the chair across from you.

“…A gentleman?” he repeated.

“Mmhm.” You sipped your drink nonchalantly. “He insisted. Said something about it being tragic for a gorgeous girl to be left alone for even a minute.”

Franco leaned forward, brows knitting. “Wait wait wait. So a man… paid for my girlfriend's dinner? While she was sitting here looking pretty, so he sat… in my seat?”

You nodded, pretending not to notice his rising stress.

“And you let him?! Did you tell him you’re with me?”

You tapped your chin. “I think I said I was seeing someone… briefly. Might’ve been hard to hear with the music.”

“Dios mío,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “Was he older? Did he look rich?”

“Definitely older. Possibly owned a yacht.”

Franco sat back, blinking at the ceiling like he was trying not to cry. “So now I have competition with a yacht guy? At a pasta place I brought you to?!”

You bit your lip, struggling not to laugh as he threw his arms up.

“He just… paid for you? What was I doing?! Washing my hands like an idiot while some James Bond wannabe was out here stealing my girl with his wallet?”

You pointed silently to the phone recording between the bottles of olive oil. He followed your finger, then froze.

“Oh no…”

You burst out laughing as Franco buried his face in his hands. “You’re evil,” he groaned. “You actually had me questioning if I should challenge this guy to a duel.”

You giggled, reaching for his hand. “But it was so funny, baby!”

He peeked through his fingers. “You know what’s funny? How much flour is going to be in your hair next time I bake something.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t bake.”

“I’ll learn. For revenge.”

You leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Love you, Franco.”

He grinned.

“Love you too, mi amor… but your days are numbered.”

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Kimi Antonelli

You and Kimi were deep into a study date at a quiet café—books spread out across the table, highlighters scattered like confetti, and Kimi hunched over his notes like he was preparing for a championship instead of a history exam. His focus was intense, brows furrowed, jaw set, the occasional frustrated sigh escaping when something didn’t make sense.

“I’m starving,” you whispered, nudging his arm gently.

Without even looking up, he slid some cash across the table toward you. “Get us something. Surprise me. Just… not tuna.”

You grinned, taking the money. “Got it, no tuna. Maybe anchovies?”

His only response was a quick side-eye and a very clear don’t test me expression. You stood with a soft laugh, heading to the counter. But, of course, instead of paying with the cash he gave you, you slid it into your hoodie pocket and paid with your own card, mentally thanking your brain for remembering to set up your phone camera before you left the table.

When you came back, two drinks in hand and a little plate of snacks, Kimi was still buried in his book, scribbling notes at lightning speed.

“You got it?” he asked absently, finally glancing up.

“Mhm.” You placed the drinks and snacks on the table. “Funny thing though… some guy at the counter offered to pay for me. Said no pretty girl should have to pay for her own coffee.”

Kimi blinked slowly.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” you said casually, sipping your drink. “He was really sweet about it, said I looked too stressed to worry about paying. Even offered to pay for your drink too. Said he hopes my boyfriend is as nice as he is.”

Kimi set his pen down, his full attention now on you. “I—Sorry, what? A guy paid for you? At a café? While you were on a date with me?”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“And you accepted it?!”

You shrugged innocently. “Didn’t seem polite to decline.”

Kimi leaned back in his seat, running a hand down his face. “So now there’s some mystery guy out there thinking he’s your knight in shining armor? Great. I’m competing with a man who buys snacks at cafés.”

You tilted your head. “Are you…jealous?”

“No.” He paused. “Maybe. Yes. A little. I’m studying Napoleon and losing you to an oat milk cappuccino and charm.”

At that, you couldn’t help it—you laughed, pointing at the phone angled between your notebooks. “It was a prank.”

Kimi followed your finger, narrowed his eyes at the phone, and let out a slow sigh. “You’ve been spending way too much time on TikTok again.”

“You love it,” you grinned, nudging him with your knee.

He shook his head but couldn’t hold back the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered.

“Lucky? I’m gorgeous.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” he mumbled, grabbing his pen again. “That and the fact that now I have to find a way to prank you back in the middle of midterms.”

You leaned in with a smirk. “Bring it on, Antonelli.”

He looked up, smirk matching yours.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, bella.”

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Ollie Bearman

It had been a chill day at the paddock—at least, as chill as things could get during a race weekend. Ollie had been doing his usual: juggling meetings, debriefs, and pretending he wasn’t texting you between every other lap review. You’d been wandering around, catching up with people, grabbing snacks, and planning—most importantly—your next prank.

Which is where Esteban Ocon came in.

You cornered him earlier with a grin and said, “Want to help me mess with Ollie?”

“Always,” he replied without hesitation.

So now, you were strolling casually back to the paddock beside Esteban, snack bag in hand, your phone tucked in a subtle angle to record the chaos that was about to unfold. Ollie stood a little down the way, chatting with one of the engineers until he spotted you both. His face lit up—until he noticed the smug expression on Esteban’s face.

“What did I miss?” Ollie asked, brow already raised as you approached.

“Oh nothing,” Esteban said casually. “Just had to save your girlfriend from being hit on by a guy at the snack tent.”

You blinked up innocently. “He was sweet, though. Said no girl that pretty should pay for her own snacks.”

Ollie froze mid-step. “Wait—what?”

Esteban kept the bit going flawlessly. “Yeah, proper gentleman. Paid for her food and everything. Honestly, I felt a bit awkward just standing there.”

You nodded, biting your lip like you were holding back a laugh. “He even asked if I was single.”

Ollie looked between the two of you, his jaw slowly dropping. “Hang on—you let some random guy pay for you? And Esteban just stood there and let it happen?!”

Esteban raised his hands defensively. “I didn’t want to start a fight over chips, mate.”

You added, “He said I had really nice eyes. And a radiant energy.”

“Okay, what is this—The Bachelor: Paddock Edition?!” Ollie blinked, looking incredibly betrayed. “I’ve been doing tire analysis for thirty minutes and you were out there getting free snacks and compliments like it’s a rom-com?”

Esteban couldn’t hold it anymore. He started laughing first, and you quickly followed, pointing to the phone that was still subtly recording.

Ollie looked over, eyes narrowing. “Oh my god. I knew this was suspicious. You two are evil.”

“I prefer creative,” you giggled, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He sighed dramatically. “I can’t believe you teamed up with Esteban for this.”

Esteban slapped him on the back. “She promised me a free coffee. Worth it.”

Ollie pointed between you both. “This means war. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but you better sleep with one eye open.”

You smiled sweetly. “You still love me though.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, pulling you into a quick hug. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Esteban winked at Ollie. “Next time, I’ll tell the guy she’s married to some old guy in Formula One.”

Ollie groaned.

“That makes it sound so much worse.”

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George Russell

Race weekend meant chaos, caffeine, and press obligations. You’d been hanging around the paddock, chatting with familiar faces, and were supposed to grab a snack while George was finishing up a quick engineering meeting. Nothing fancy—just a little bite to hold you over.

Toto had spotted you on the way to catering and, being the gentleman he always was, insisted on paying for you. You initially said no, but Toto waved it off like it was nothing. "George doesn’t mind. It all comes out of Mercedes’ budget somehow."

But you were struck with a spark of inspiration. A prank. A perfectly subtle, paddock-appropriate prank.

Toto was more than game.

So, when George came striding out of the garage looking far too confident and far too clean for someone in motorsport, he found you waiting with a snack and a smirk—and Toto standing nearby with the look of a man who was absolutely about to commit to the bit.

"Hey, love," George smiled, brushing a kiss to your temple. "Get everything sorted?"

Toto gave a casual shrug. "Well, yes. Though I’m not sure how I feel about some random man flirting with your girlfriend while paying for her lunch."

George blinked. "Wait—what?"

You nodded, biting into your snack, cool as ever. "Yeah, he was sweet. Told me I shouldn’t have to pay for myself. Said a pretty face like mine deserved better."

George’s entire posture changed. "I—hold on—what guy? Where was I? I was literally gone for ten minutes!"

Toto, somehow keeping the most impressive poker face ever, added: "Tall guy. Nice watch. Little too confident if you ask me. He even winked."

George looked between you both, trying to compute. "And you just—let him pay?! Toto, you're the boss! You didn’t say anything?!"

"I didn’t want to embarrass him," Toto said seriously. "Maybe George should be more present next time."

Your face was turning red from holding in your laughter, especially when George turned to you in complete disbelief. "You let some random man just... fund your lunch like it was a date?!"

You shrugged. "Free food is free food."

George looked like he was mentally filing divorce papers you hadn’t even signed yet. "Absolutely not. You’re banned from snack stands without supervision."

At that point, Toto lost it—chuckling deep in his chest as he clapped George on the back.

"She’s joking, George. It was me."

George paused. Blinked. "...Wait, you paid?"

"Yes."

"And the flirting?"

You pointed to Toto. "All him."

George’s face dropped into his hands as you finally burst out laughing. "You two are unbelievable."

"You’re just upset someone else got to call me pretty first today," you teased.

He peered at you through his fingers. "That’s not true. I called you pretty this morning. Before breakfast."

Toto smirked. "Guess you’ll have to step it up."

George pointed at you. "You are never teaming up with him again."

You grinned, slipping your arm around his. "No promises, Mr. Russell."

George shook his head as the three of you walked off.

"I’m switching snack duty to Kimi next time. He wouldn’t emotionally sabotage me like this."

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[dksfml]

LOVE 119 [PART II]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. masterlist.

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!

You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”

It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.

A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.

“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”

“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”

She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”

Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”

“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”

Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”

The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.

The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.

The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.

But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.

Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.

It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.

Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.

His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.

Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.

Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.

Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”

Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."

You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"

Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.

Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”

The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."

You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."

Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.

Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."

The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.

But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”

The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."

Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."

Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.

You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"

"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.

With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:

“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”

It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.

The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.

You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.

You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”

He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."

You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.

Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”

A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.

You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.

“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.

This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.

“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.

Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.

He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.

You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”

Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”

You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.

“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”

He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.

“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.

He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.

“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”

Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”

“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.

He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.

“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”

“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.

As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”

Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”

He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.

When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.

In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.

In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.

“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”

His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.

With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.

As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.

You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.

Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.

“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.

“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”

With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.

masterlist.

[landoughnut]

Bad Idea Right? - LN4

masterlist - request

pairing: lando norris x piastri!fem!reader

summary: lando hadn't expected to fall in love with his teammates sister, and they can only keep it from him for so long

w/c & a/n: 3.8k | it's friday again, then saturday, sunday what?

Being Oscar Piastri’s sister was definitely an experience. 

It was amazing travelling with him around the world and seeing so many different cultures. 

Oscar had always been protective over you, since you were little kids. Though you were both quiet and shy, he wouldn’t stand for someone mistreating you, or making you feel like you were any less than him. 

You had never actually met your brother's teammate, Lando. You tried your best to avoid the paddock. Large crowds of people made you nervous and you preferred to watch it from a more secluded area. 

You had heard a lot about him, that he was a partier and very energetic, but just from that you were sure you too wouldn’t make good friends. 

Up until now, you hadn’t planned on meeting him, but now you see a message from Oscar telling you to come to the garage with Lily tomorrow to officially meet the team.

You felt your stomach squeeze, what would they think of you? You didn’t fit into their chaos, and what if you made a fool of yourself, or if something went wrong? 

You didn’t get much time to stress about it, because a second message from your brother appeared. It reads, “Stop worrying, everything will be great, they’ll love you. Lily will be there with you too.” Of course, he follows that up with a thumbs up emoji.  You roll your eyes, classic Oscar. 

Though his message did help relax your nerves slightly, Lily was your best friend. Seeing as how you were more of a homebody, you never really got out enough to make friends, and with Lily dating your brother, and she was similar to you, it was like your friendship just fell into place. 

You respond to Oscar saying that you’ll be there and afterwards you quickly message Lily asking if she would come to your hotel room to get ready together, to which she answered with an “Of course!”

The rest of the day flew by with you exploring around the area of your hotel. Tomorrow was the Hungarian Grand Prix, and you were excited to watch the race with the team tomorrow. 

Tomorrow arrives and you wake up and get your morning checklist done with things such as brushing your teeth, showering, and doing some skin care. 

You throw on your robe and slippers just in time to hear a knock at your door. You peek through the peephole and see Lily’s eye up close to the hole on the other side of the door, making you yelp and jump back. 

You open the door to her laughing. “I got you good,” she pokes your cheek and steps in the room, pulling you into a hug. 

“That was not funny, Lily, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” You huff and lock your door. 

She rolls her eyes at your dramatics, “Yeah, yeah. Now, time to get you ready! I’m already dressed but we can do our makeup and hair together,” she grins. 

You sit on your bed, “I don’t think I have anything good to wear,” you sigh. Lily thinks for a moment before going to your suitcase. 

She rummages through it for another minute before jumping up and holds a dress out to you. “This is perfect!” 

You look at her like she’s crazy, “That dress is way too tight! I can’t wear that!”

She tilts her head at you, “Why not?”

“Well, I… It’s not… formal?” You try to think of reasons but she shakes her head. 

“Don’t be silly! You’ll look like a supermodel! Plus, you’re going to meet Lando! Maybe you’ll get along, if you know what I mean,” she winks at you. 

You gasp, cheeks flushing, “Lily! Absolutely not,” you scold. 

“Oh come on! You’ve told me that you found him handsome, and you are more than beautiful, so I don’t see a problem,” she shrugs like it’s obvious. 

“You don’t see a problem? From what I’ve seen, Lando doesn’t really do relationships, and Oscar would kill him,” you cross your arms and look away from her. 

“Well, don’t trust everything you see in the media until you see for yourself, maybe he has a reason. And Oscar would probably be upset at first, but he’d come around.”

You think for a moment before nodding, “Alright, well, enough talking about a made up scenario, let’s get ready before Oscar starts complaining.”

Lily agrees, “Here,” she puts the dress in your hands, “Go put it on.” You look at her for a moment before going over to the bathroom to change. Once it’s on you look at yourself in the mirror, it’s safe to say that you were rather happy with what you saw, maybe Lily was right.

You step out and she gasps, clapping her hands. “I knew it! You already look heaven-sent, and we haven't even done hair or makeup,” she beams at you. 

You blush, “Thank’s Lily.” She then tells you to follow her as you two go to the vanity. “We can do you first, but I want to do it.”

“Go ahead,” she smiles and sets up your speaker to play the playlist you made together. You first blow dry her hair and straighten it like how she requested. Then you clip it back and begin doing her makeup, she usually didn’t put on much, so it didn’t take long to finish up. 

“Voilà!” You spin her chair around, “Gorgeous.”

She nods in approval, “It looks great! Your turn!” She jumps out of the chair excitedly. She starts by drying your hair, and then puts some of the oils you use to make your hair smooth, shiny, and soft. She then goes in with a hair curler and does it just enough so that they are very loose and just add some volume. 

Next Lily spins your chair to face her as she does your makeup, somehow doing a very detailed process that you didn’t even know how to do. “When did you become a makeup professional?”

She smiles, “Since I had such a stunning client.” 

“You flatter me too much,” you giggle. She finishes soon after and spins you. 

You blink for a moment, “Wow, Lily, you outdid yourself!” You look at some different angles of yourself in the mirror, “Thank you!” 

“Before we head out, do you want to put on your jewelry while I find you some shoes?”

“Yes, please.” You go to and put on your gold necklaces, rings, earrings, and bracelets. You loved having a lot of jewelry on, you felt an outfit was never complete without it. You quickly spray on your perfume and head back towards Lily, who was holding out a pair of short heels that perfectly complemented the dress. 

You take them and thank her while putting them on. 

She checks her phone, “Time to go! Oscar is waiting in the lobby,” she shows you his text. You shut off the lights and step out of the room, making sure it's locked before heading down where your brother was waiting. 

“Hi, Osc,” you smile and pull him into a tight hug, “are you excited for today? I have a good feeling about it.” 

He brightens, “I am, and I’m excited for you to meet the team!” You let go of him and he hugs Lily next, kissing her head before telling you both to follow him. 

About twenty minutes pass before you arrive at the paddock, your nerves come back seeing all the people, but Lily just puts a comforting hand on your arm. 

Some people take pictures of the three of you on your way to the McLaren garage, but you pay no mind to them and instead focus on your brother who gives you comforting smiles. 

You arrive after a few more minutes and Zak greets Oscar with a pat on the back. “Oscar! Who’s our special guest today,” the man says looking at you. 

“This is my sister, she’s been to the races just too shy to come here,” he chuckles. 

“Oscar,” you drag his name out in a now shy mumble, looking down at the ground, your face now turning pink.

Zak senses your discomfort, “No worries! We’re happy to have you, really,” he smiles at you holding out his hand to shake. 

You look up and feel yourself untense at his kindness, you shake his hand and he pats it before telling you he has to go and that it was nice to meet you. 

Oscar happily introduces you to some of the engineers and mechanics, who you had some longer conversations with. Many compliment you and seem genuinely interested, which makes you feel a lot more comfortable. 

Now you were walking with Oscar and Lily towards the lounge area, where you would be staying to watch the race. 

However you see a blur of papaya and your eyes widen a little as you realize it’s Lando rushing past you all. Though he doesn’t get very far before Oscar calls out to him, “Lando! Come meet my sister!”

Lando turns around and his eyes get wide as he looks at you. Oscar beckons him over with a hand wave and Lando starts to make his way to you all - his eyes never leaving yours - when he trips. 

Luckily he saved himself but now as he stood in front of you, cheeks and ears bright red, he seemed to forget how to speak.

“Lando?” Oscar tries. Lando seemed to have not heard him and you looked around trying to avoid the Brits eyes. “Hellooo, mate,” Oscar snaps his fingers in front of his face, narrowing his eyes at the way Lando was looking at you. 

That seems to grab his attention because now Lando turned to look at him. “Oh! H-hey, uh- the floor’s a little, uh, wobbly, you know, uhm, tripped me there,” he laughs nervously, looking embarrassed. 

He could slap himself. 

First he trips and humiliates himself in front of the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and now he’s said the floor is wobbly. 

What an idiot. 

Lily smiles and looks at you, who’s flustered from his gaze, and then she looks at him blushing while glancing at you, “The floor is wobbly?” she asks. 

Lando looks down at his hand, “Uh, y-yeah, they should probably fix that. So.. you’re Oscar's sister?”

You nod, “Yeah. It’s nice to meet you,” you look at the boy in front of you, now seeing him up close you realize he’s hotter than the cameras capture.  

Oscar looks back and forth between you two, “Yeah… I don’t like this. We’re going to the lounge now. Bye, Lando.”

Lily smacks his arm but he starts walking away. You sigh and give Lando a small smile before following him. Lando’s eye’s followed your back, maybe a little lower, as you walked away. 

Lily stayed just long enough that she caught his gaze and heard a quiet “Wow,” while leaving. 

Oscar won the race. 

You swore your throat was going to be sore from your excited screams, and your makeup must have been smudged from how much you were crying, but none of that mattered right now. 

Once Oscar makes it back to where you are you jump into his arms and squeeze him, crying on his shoulder. “I’m so so proud of you!” you somehow manage to say in between sobs. 

He hugs you back tightly, “Thank you,” he whispers. 

The next race was Belgium and you were back in the garage before the race. You were sitting with Lily when Lando came over and sat in front of you. “Hello. I promise I won’t embarrass myself this time,” he smiles at you.

“Hi, Lando. What are you doing here?” you ask him and Lily nods her head at him in greeting. 

“I’m here to, uh…” he pauses for a moment, his confidence leaving him, “get your number?”

You laugh, “Is that a question?” Lily excuses herself and you glare at her. 

“Um, yes? Or no- wait, no, you don’t have to, I just-” Lando stumbles over his words. You found it cute, he wasn’t like what you had expected of him. You thought he would be rather cocky and stuck up, but you were pleasantly surprised. 

You cut him off by handing him your phone, the contacts app pulled up for him to put in his number, “Here.” 

He looks surprised but takes the phone and puts his number in, making his contact name “Lando :)”. You smile as he hands your phone back, “I like it.”

You found yourself texting him more often, even facetime some nights. You’d become good friends, but you hadn’t told your brother about getting closer to Lando, you know he’d start assuming things. 

Though you did keep Lily up to date with everything, and she promised not to say anything to your brother.

A few weeks later at the Singapore Grand Prix, you were walking in the paddock to meet Lily in the garage when Lando came up from behind you. He takes the sunglasses off of the top of your head and places them on. “Lando!” you laugh as he does some silly poses with them on. 

He grins, “I think they look better on me, no?” You shake your head and reach out to take them off of his face. As you do you notice his eyes were fixed on your lips, making you blush as you put them on yourself. 

He reaches out and fixes a piece of your hair that the wind blew to the other side, “There you go,” his smile softens, “I have to go now, but I’ll see you soon.”

“Sounds good.”

Lando won today's race, and you were overjoyed for him. He’d met you when he was done showering after the celebration. You were currently on your hotel balcony. “Why aren’t you out celebrating with everyone? You did win the race after all,” you ask him looking out at the night sky.

“I don’t want to celebrate with anyone else,” he shrugs. Looking over at you. 

“I’m flattered, that’s really sweet, I didn’t take you as the sappy type,” you smile. Turning your head, you realize just how close you are. 

Lando looks at your eyes for a moment, before his eyes drop. He leans towards you, eyes fluttering, but at the last moment you turn your head to the side. 

He backs up, embarrassed, “I-I’m sorry, did I read this wrong? I though-”

You quickly shake your head, “No! No, Lando. It’s fine, really, you read right, it's just that I don’t know if this is a good idea… Oscar might-”

“I think Oscar is his own person,” Lando says. He takes a strand of your hair and twirls it around his finger, “You, however, are also your own person. I really like you, and I’m pretty sure you like me. If you don’t want-”

You cut him off by pulling his shirt collar down and kissing him. He lets out a surprised sound but quickly reciprocates and kisses you back. You slide your hands up his neck and into his curls, as his hands go around your waist pulling you closer. 

He lets out a pleasant sound when you tug on his hair. 

He feels like he’s dreaming, the taste of you, the scent of your perfume, your hands in his hair, your mouth on his, he thinks he might pass out. He’d never admit it but he had scenarios in his head of how your first kiss would go, but this is better than all of them 

You break apart, breathing heavy and swollen lips. Lando chases your mouth, kissing you once more, “Oscar’s going to kill me,” he whispers against your lips. 

“Maybe. But this is worth it,” you whisper back, kissing him again. 

That night was a turning point for you both. Lando had been almost stuck to your side in the paddock and at events you went to. 

You tried not to display anything that wouldn’t look platonic, but Oscar had suspicions. Especially after he’s seen the love sike look on Lando’s face when he looks at you, or when he would guide you around the garage with a hand on your back.

One time he even entered the lounge where you were sitting with Lando and could have sworn he saw him quickly take his hand off of your thigh.

Lando tried to take every opportunity there was to give you kisses during race weekends. Whether you’d be hiding behind tires or the back of a building. You felt the line between liking him and loving him blur.

He’d also sometimes send you a message if he couldn’t be with you because you were with Oscar. It was usually something like, “Baby, you look way too beautiful, I might crash the car,” and every time it made you blush without fail, which he seemed to take too much pride in.

After another time period passes, people start to question whether you and Lando were friends or dating. Oscar had sent you some articles about it and you tried your best to cover up the stories, which surprisingly worked. 

“I think I want to tell him soon,” you mumble to Lando. You were in your hotel bed, laying on top of him, on the brink of sleep. Your head rested on his chest with one of his hands tracing shapes on your back and the other playing with your hair. 

He pauses for a moment, “Are you sure? I don’t want your relationship with him to get ruined because of me.”

You nod your head, “It won’t, he’ll understand I think. I love you,” you whisper. 

You felt him tense under you, “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know why I-”

He cuts you off, tilting your head towards him to place a soft kiss to your mouth, “I love you, too.”

When you said you wanted to tell your brother, you didn’t plan for it to be like this. You were in a hospital bed after passing out from the heat when you and Lando were going on a walk.

Lando had panicked but was thankful you two had only gotten about a minute's walk away from the car. You hadn’t woken up yet, so he picked up his speed even more on his way to the hospital. 

After some time and medication you woke up to see Lando’s worried expression while he was on the phone with your brother. He was pacing in and out of the room, “Oh! Oscar, I have to go, she just woke up. Yeah. Mhm. Okay. Bye,” he hung up and sat down on the bed. 

“Bloody hell, never do that again baby, you scared me terribly,” he kissed your forehead. “Do you need anything? Water, food, more pillows? Is it too cold in here? I can-”

You put your hand over his mouth, giggling, “I’m alright, thank you, if I need anything I’ll let you know.” Lando seemed pleased with your answer so he nodded. “What did my brother say?”

“Well, he was too worried to ask about why I was with you so he just said he’ll be here soon,” he replies, kissing you gently, in fear of hurting you.

You must be cursed with bad luck today because Oscar came rushing into the room just before Lando could back away. 

Lando feels his stomach drop and Oscar’s mouth opens and he looks between the two of you. 

You watch as your brother’s face goes through about ten different emotions, “You- he- him?! He was just… kissing you.. and… I don’t feel so good…” Lando hops off the bed and catches your brother before he hits the ground. 

Lando places him on the bed, and you would be laughing about the situation but you wanted to wait for your brother to wake up first, which he does after a few more moments. 

“Oscar! Welcome back mate,” Lando pats his head. 

“Get your hand off of me. Why were you kissing my sister,” Oscar glares at the boy. 

“Whatttt?” Lando chuckles nervously, “I think that faint really had you seeing-”

Oscar cuts him off, sitting up, “I know what I saw, and it was disgusting. Now answer my question.”

You sigh, “We’re dating.” Oscar looks away tense, but then he relaxes a little and looks at you with a face as if asking for how long. “For a couple of months now…” you trail off. 

Oscar’s mouth drops, “Months?! Why haven’t either of you told me?”

Lando chews his bottom lip nervously, “We were going to, I swear. But then you were stressed about the constructors championship, and it seemed like each time we planned to something happened, and I-”

Oscar cuts him off, “I don’t like this. She’s my sister and you’re… you.” Lando makes an offended face at that, making you chuckle. “This will take time for me to get used to, and I’m upset that you guys didn’t tell me, but if you’re both really happy I have no right to not support you.”

You go towards your brother and pull him into a tight hug, “Thank you! I love you.”

Oscar rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, “Yeah yeah, I love you too.” He looks over your shoulder, narrowing his eyes, “I’m watching you,” he mouths at Lando, making the boy gulp. “You treat her right, understand? Or I’m running you off the track.”

Lando nods, “Of course, I wouldn't dream of otherwise.” 

Though Oscar had accepted you two, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t a little salty. For the next week he would glare at Lando like a child who’s gotten his toy taken away. He can’t be mad for long though, not when he notices how happy you are with him. 

That brings you to now, the final race of the season, Abu Dhabi. There was only one lap left and you were standing outside with the team as you watched Lando finally cross the finish line, winning the constructors championship and his fourth race. 

When Lando finally puts the car in the first place spot, he jumps out and takes his helmet off as he runs towards you. You barely have time to question anything before he’s picking you up over the barrier, and smashing his lips to yours. 

The team hollers around you, wolf whistling and cheering. Cameras flash as well but it’s all a blur to you. You hold Lando just as tightly and kiss him back. Your kiss is unfortunately interrupted by a gagging sound from behind you. 

Oscar looks at you two, “I know I said I supported you but please, I don’t need to see this, I might puke.” 

Lily comes up next to him, “Leave them alone, they’re adorable!” You gratefully smile at her and Oscar lets out a dramatic sigh. 

You laugh and go to hug him, “Sorry. Good race, Oscar, I’m proud of you.” 

He thanks you and walks to Lando, patting him on the back, “Congratulations, mate, you were great.” 

Lando brightens, “Thanks! And we’ll keep the PDA to the minimum.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, “Really?”

You and Lando glance at each other, shaking your heads and speaking in sync, “Nah.”

[kannady]

ever, ever after

pairing: sylus x non-mc reader

summary: sylus didn't love you. how could he when she was around? but would he come look for you if you willingly step into EVER's boundaries?

word count: 1.9k

a/n: lets just ignore how this chapter took me so awfully long😫😫😫 i really needed time to sort out my thoughts plus this new update had me clawing at the screen. literally used up ALL mydiamonds and still didnt get caleb😭😭 anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter. lemme know your thoughts!

read rest of the chapters here!

IV

You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter to the floor, and dropped your purse onto the table with a hollow thud. The apartment was quiet, the hum of the city outside was nothing more than white noise. You sank into the couch, the cushions swallowing you whole, as if even the furniture could sense the weight pressing down on your chest.

The thought flickered again, what if he had loved you back?

It should have set you ablaze. It should have sent your pulse racing, your hands trembling, your breath hitching in your throat like some lovesick fool. But instead, it just sat there, a dull ember in the pit of your stomach.

You let out a slow breath, tilting your head back against the couch.

If he had loved you, why couldn’t he say it?

The answer was simple. Because he hadn’t. Because he couldn’t. Because there had always been her, her laughter ringing through the halls, her presence like sunlight in a house that had only ever been shadows. You were the alternative. The backup plan. The one who stood just close enough to pretend, but never close enough to matter.

A dry chuckle escaped you.

God, you were pathetic. Getting worked up over this? Over him? This was Sylus. The man who had built an empire out of blood and secrets, who had never once in his life needed saving. If he was in trouble, if, then he would get himself out. He always did. Luke and Kieran would come bursting through the doors, guns blazing, or he’d slip his restraints like they were nothing, leaving EVER’s scientists gaping at an empty chair.

You weren’t even a variable in this equation.

If anything, you were just getting in his way. Taking this too seriously. Making it about you, when it had never been about you at all.

You dragged a hand down your face.

Two years. Two years of rebuilding yourself, of waking up in an apartment that was yours, of walking into a lab where people greeted you by name, where your ideas were listened to, where no one watched you with cold, calculating eyes, waiting for you to slip up.

You were happy here.

And wasn’t that the cruelest joke of all? That the moment you walked away from him, the moment you stopped being his shadow, you finally found something that felt like living?

So why now were you even considering throwing it all away?

And that too for him?

The answer should have been easy. It was easy.

You stood abruptly, the sudden motion sending a sharp pain through your temples. The serum was tomorrow. The stronger serum. The one that would kill him.

Your fingers twitched at your sides.

No. No, you weren’t doing this. You weren’t going back. You weren’t risking everything, your job, your safety, your life, for a man who had never once risked anything for you.

You trudged up to your bedroom, the plush carpet muffling your steps. The closet door creaked as you yanked it open, fingers sifting through the familiar fabrics until you found what you were looking for. Soft, worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt that smelled faintly of lavender detergent. You peeled off your work clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket with more force than necessary, as if you could discard the weight of the day just as easily.

The shower hissed to life, steam curling into the air as you stepped under the scalding spray. The water burned, just shy of painful, but you welcomed it. Maybe if it stung enough, it would drown out the thoughts gnawing at the edges of your mind.

Him.

Of course this was all part of his plan. Sylus didn’t get captured. Sylus allowed it. He’d walked into EVER with his eyes wide open, knowing exactly what would happen, knowing you would be the one to see him strapped to that chair. It was a game. It had always been a game.

You scrubbed at your skin until it turned pink, as if you could wash away the memory of his crimson gaze through the observation glass.

He doesn’t get to do this.

The thought was sharp, furious. He didn’t get to waltz back into your life after two years and upend everything. Not after the way he’d let you walk away. Not after the way he’d never once, not once, told you what you’d so desperately needed to hear.

You knew him. Better than most. Five years at his side had taught you that Sylus was a man who took what he wanted. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t second-guess. If he had wanted you, he would have said it. He would have shown it.

But he hadn’t. And that was answer enough.

The water turned cold, snapping you back to the present. You shut it off with a rough twist of the knob, stepping out onto the bathmat, your skin prickling in the chill. The mirror was fogged over, but you didn’t need to see your reflection to know what you’d find there, the same tired eyes, the same clenched jaw, the same woman who had spent two years convincing herself she was over this.

Over him.

You dragged a towel through your hair, your movements jerky.

This was your life. Your choices. You were the one who got to decide what to do, who got to say no, who got to walk away and never look back.

So why was it that the moment you’d seen him again, every carefully constructed wall had crumbled down?

You knew why.

You’d always known.

Somewhere, buried deep beneath the anger and the hurt, there was still a part of you that remembered the way his voice sometimes softened when he said your name. The way his fingers had lingered on the back of your chair, just close enough to feel the warmth of him. The way he’d looked at you, really looked at you, when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

Maybe that was the worst part.

Not the betrayal. Not the silence.

But the hope.

The stupid, traitorous hope that maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t imagined it all.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your palms against your eyes until stars burst behind your lids.

No. You weren’t doing this. You weren’t falling back into that same spiral.

You tugged on your clothes, the fabric soft against your skin, and padded back into the bedroom. The bed was unmade, the sheets still tangled from this morning’s restless sleep. You didn’t bother fixing them.

Instead, you sank onto the edge of the mattress, your fingers curling into the sheets.

You don’t owe him anything.

Tomorrow, you’d walk back into that lab.

And when they brought out the serum, when they strapped him down and prepared to tear his Evol from his veins, you’d make a choice. One way or another.

***

The alarm blared at 5:00 AM sharp. Your hand slapped it silent before the second ring could pierce the quiet. No hesitation. No groggy fumbling. Just cold, mechanical precision, like every other morning.

You rolled out of bed, your bare feet meeting the cool hardwood floor. The apartment was still dark, the city outside still hushed in that eerie pre-dawn stillness. You didn’t bother with the lights. You didn’t need them. Every step, every movement was muscle memory by now.

The kitchen light flickered on as you entered. Coffee first. The machine gurgled to life, the rich, bitter scent filling the air. While it brewed, you cracked two eggs into a pan, the sizzle loud in the silence. Toast popped up. Butter melted. You ate standing at the counter, barely tasting any of it.

Today’s the day.

The thought slithered through your mind, unwelcome but persistent. Today, they’d administer the stronger serum. Today, Sylus would either escape or die.

Your fingers tightened around the coffee mug.

He won’t die. You knew that. Of course you did. Sylus didn’t die. Sylus didn’t lose.

But the sinking feeling in your stomach refused to fade.

You showered. Dressed. Tied your hair back. Every motion was methodical, practiced, like you were a machine going through its programmed routines. The face in the mirror looked back at you, steady, composed, betraying nothing.

Good.

The walk to the transit station was quiet. The streets were still mostly empty, the occasional early riser passing by with bleary eyes. You didn’t look at them. Your mind was elsewhere, turning over possibilities, scenarios, every damn what-if that had kept you awake all night.

What’s his plan?

That was the question, wasn’t it? Sylus always had a plan. Always. So what was it this time? A distraction? A bomb? Were Luke and Kieran already inside, lurking in the vents like shadows?

The train arrived with a hiss. You stepped on, finding your usual seat by the window. The glass was cool against your temple as you leaned, watching the city blur past.

He wouldn’t let them take his Evol.

That much was certain. Energy manipulation was his lifeblood. Without it, he was just a man. And Sylus had never been just anything.

The facility loomed ahead, its sleek, glass-and-steel exterior gleaming under the morning sun. You swiped your keycard at the entrance, the doors sliding open with a soft whoosh.

Everything was normal.

Your eyes flicked to the security cameras, still operational. The elevators, functioning. The researchers milling about, alive, unharmed, chatting about weekend plans like today was just another day.

No explosions. No alarms. No masked figures storming the halls.

Nothing.

A frown tugged at your lips as you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for Sublevel 7. The descent was smooth, silent. Your reflection stared back at you from the polished metal doors, calm, collected.

The doors slid open. The hallway stretched ahead, sterile and bright. Your footsteps echoed as you walked, the sound too loud in your ears.

Lab 7’s doors hissed at your approach. You punched in the code without thinking.

“Dr. (Y/N), authorization code Rose-9-White.”

The locks disengaged. Your eyes went straight to the observation window.

Empty. Again.

You exhaled, though you weren’t sure if it was relief or frustration.

Shaking your head, you crossed to your workstation, pulling on your lab glasses and gloves with practiced ease. The logs for the day blinked up at you from the holoscreen, routine checks, data analysis, prep for Phase Two.

Your stomach twisted.

You forced your hands to move, pulling up the files, scanning the data. Numbers. Charts. Cold, clinical facts that didn’t mention the man strapped to a chair somewhere in this building, the man whose blood they’d be siphoning today.

Where is he?

You shouldn’t care. You didn’t care.

But your gaze kept drifting to the empty observation chamber, to the dangling restraints, to the faint smudge of blood still on the floor from yesterday.

What are you planning, Sylus?

The question burned in your skull, unanswered.

You turned back to your work.

And waited for hell to break loose.

The lab doors hissed open, and you glanced over your shoulder out of habit, only to freeze for half a second when you saw Dr. Voss stride in.

Weird. He was never late. In fact, he’d once fired an intern for being two minutes behind schedule. You’d assumed he slept in his office just to avoid the indignity of traffic.

Shaking your head, you turned back to your workstation, fingers flying over the holoscreen as you logged the latest batch of data. 

But then you heard a sharp gasp. Then another. Your head snapped up.

Dr. Voss stood near the observation window, his back rigid, his usually immaculate suit rumpled. He was speaking in hushed, urgent tones to a cluster of senior researchers, their faces paling by the second. One of them, Dr. Cho, actually took a step back, as if physically recoiling from whatever Voss had just said.

Mara sidled up beside you, her elbow nudging yours. "Wonder what’s going on?"

You didn’t take your eyes off them. "If it were anything minor, he’d be screaming by now," you muttered. "He’s never late. If he could, he’d kill anyone who is."

Mara snorted, but her amusement faded as Voss turned toward the rest of the lab.

And that’s when you saw it. The sweat.

A thin sheen glistening across his forehead, droplets rolling down his temples despite the lab’s controlled climate. His hands, usually so steady, trembled faintly at his sides. His throat worked as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing like he was forcing down bile.

Then, without warning, he cleared his throat. The sound was like a gunshot in the sudden silence. Every head in the lab turned. Every breath held.

Voss opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"I–" His voice cracked. He tried again. "I advise you all to start putting away everything and get ready to evacuate. You’ll be getting the notice soon."

For a heartbeat, there was nothing.

Then, chaos.

Gasps. Panicked shouts. The clatter of equipment being dropped, stools scraping back, voices overlapping in a cacophony of panic. The lab had never been this loud. Not even during the fire drill last month.

Mara stepped forward, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "What’s going on? You can’t just come in like that, tell us to drop everything and leave!"

Voss’s gaze locked onto hers. For a long, terrifying moment, he didn’t speak. It was like watching a man hesitate before jumping off a cliff.

Then, finally, he exhaled.

"The subject," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "Our subject… he’s–he’s not in the cell."

Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence.

Then Mara, ever the pragmatist, frowned. "So? He escaped. Call security. Lock it down."

Voss didn’t blink. "He didn’t escape."

Your heartbeat was hammering in your ears. 

"The cell’s still locked."

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

tags: @nm4565natty, @dysphxriaii, @animegamerfox, @floofycookie, @food4me-always, @dummiebunny, @starllight613, @natashahbarry, @hao-ming-8, @eve-rockin-blog, @sylusgirlie7, @babygirl-panda19, @chaoticfivesworld, @wakeupr41, @poptrim, @brailsthesmolgurl, @seung185, @mimiu3usoft, @theplaid-wearingmoose, @moonchildjae00, @pinksaiyans, @vintag3u, @peachystea, @69-gojos-wife-69, @harusansthings, @dyeinsomniadontwake, @perqbeth, @dramaticalsachan, @dana-nite, @blusterry-bomb, @miffysoo, @his-ocean-emissary, @totallytaurus4, @sleepykittyenergy, @terriblesoup, @mcdepressed290, @ikesimpleton, @meyline, @decaf-nosebleed, @ili6a, @moonlight-inthe-sea, @adeptustemptations, @sylussweetkitten, @roschea-arts, @blipblopblopblip, @eolivy, @coeurdeveea, @sylussplushie, @thestarsaboveme, @cordidy, @bxtchopolis, @sabage101, @stxrrielle, @lighting-and-shadow, @peachhiz, @z3vl, @inara-lumina, @thirstblogforaparchedgirl, @bubbleteakittyy, @sillyfreakfanparty, @inzanekillian, @54fangirl, @lluvia1415, @obeythebutler, @beaconsxd, @raethewargeneral, @vyntheria, @claireeredfield, @velvtcherie, @it-is-tea-time, @babylavinawr, @jaebumspetitegf, @xsammijoanneex, @sikrettt, @lostpsycho13, @junlight, @aboobie, @jaams-backpack, @sh4do3, @nnasv, @lov3vivian, @rosiesareblu, @lemon-seeds81, @sakuraneko-sakupanda-chan, @moth-quasar, @mononlogue, @sofszz, @seungkwansflower, @probably-hyperfixating, @leiaglamela, @idkmanimjusthorny, @anonymousarely, @treeteaofversailles, @lucifer-says-hii, @alwaysawkwardvalery, @king-dynamight, @milkyasteroids

[cheftsunoda]

i just wanna say that i love your writing sooo much!

would you be willing to write a SMAU where the reader is nolan siegels twin sister and is the social media admin for the mclaren indycar team? i’m thinking she’d be best friends with kimi and/or gabi (they met when they were little through karting) and through them she meets ollie and he’s the love interest?

thank you so much!!

chronically online — ob87

smau + blurbs

ollie bearman x !siegel twin reader

being nolan’s twin sister means you know indycar like the back of your hand. you grew up racing side by side with nolan and your childhood best friend kimi antonelli, carving up karting circuits and collecting trophies like candy. but while the boys chased pro racing dreams, you pivoted, trading a helmet for a camera—and now you run the social media for arrow mclaren with ruthless efficiency and even better meme timing. you’re loud, chaotic, and just professional enough to keep your job.

everything is going great—until kimi introduces you to ollie bearman. too pretty. too flustered around you. and suddenly, your perfectly controlled feed is being hijacked by a british boy with a crush and no idea what he’s in for. this wasn’t part of your content plan.

fc : darianka

(a/n) : WHDHSHSUJS this idea. I LOVE YOU. nolan is my little baby angel— ive met him and can confirm he is an angel irl. i had to jump on this right away. hope you love it!

also this inspired me to write more indycar so if you have any requestssss send my way pls. also the spacing is fucked up bc i couldn't shut up and stop writing so beware.

—

arrowmclaren

liked by nolansiegel, yn_siegel, patriciooward & 25,090 others.

arrowmclaren : here is a dump of my camera roll while i force the boys to make 97 more tik toks 🫶🏻🧡🏁

— admin💋

—

view 1705 other comments.

username000 : admin!! who is your fave?

liked by arrowmclaren

↳ arrowmclaren : pato

liked by patriciooward

↳ nolansiegel : yn we literally shared a womb

↳ arrowmclaren : yeah and you hogged all the room. plus pato brought me tamales last night

liked by patriciooward

↳ username01 : i can’t with them bro

username005 : i’m begging arrow mclaren to give her a raise and a reality show

liked by arrowmclaren

↳ arrowmclaren : y’all hear this??? pay my brother less and pay me MORE

↳ username007 : ynnnn💀

username11 : wait admin is nolans sister??

↳ username77 : twin sister yes

↳ arrowmclaren : im a lot cooler and im rather beautiful

liked by patriciooward

username115 : does anyone know why kimi is in the likes?

↳ username17 : kimi, yn and nolan all used to kart together growing up. they still hang out im pretty sure

patriciooward : she threatened me with a knife to get up and film a tik tok with her…she’s so scary but in a cute way 😇

liked by arrowmclaren

↳ arrowmclaren : i do what i need to do to get my job done 🙂‍↔️💘

nolansiegel : i was mid nap and she smacked me for content

↳ nolansiegel : pls someone save me

↳ arrowmclaren : you did not need to be sleeping on the job, nolan.

liked by patriciooward

lundgaardofficial : i just do what she tells me to do. makes life a lot easier

liked by arrowmclaren

↳ arrowmclaren : see i like this attitude.

username005 : yn i spent all my money on merch (my rent is due next week) are you proud of me?

liked by arrowmclaren

↳ arrowmclaren : very proud, in fact, im going to force the three of them to sign something and ill send it to you! 🧡

liked by username005 and patriciooward

—

yn_siegel

liked by patriciooward, nolansiegel, kimi.antonelli and 75,023 others.

yn_siegel : the little orange minions can’t even escape my feed on the main

tagged : nolansiegel and patriciooward

—

view 2035 other comments.

username00 : did nolan draw that??

↳ yn_siegel : i fear he is not that talented.

↳ yn_siegel : a little mini fan gave it to me and it is still in my phone case

liked by username00

patriciooward : my own personal photographer

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : my own personal…pato <3

liked by patriciooward

nolansiegel : never forget who grilled you that hot dog…this minion.

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : my own personal chef!!

liked by patriciooward

kimi.antonelli : miss you mia sorella🫶🏻

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : our big f1 star 🫶🏻 miss you more

liked by kimi.antonelli

↳ username007 : this is so cute im gagged

username15 : yn do you need a sister in law?

↳ yn_siegel : preferably one that will go shopping with me and make fun of my brother as much as I do

elbaoward : the prettiest girl on the planet 💋

liked by yn_siegel

↳ elbaoward : my elbsss that’s all you 🤧💘

liked by patriciooward and elbaoward

—

You’re halfway through filming yet another TikTok for the Arrow McLaren account, balancing the camera on a water bottle, coaching Pato through the choreography for the fourth time. Christian’s already given up, off to the side eating chips like he’s just here for moral support, and Nolan’s doing the robot for absolutely no reason.

“Pato,” you say, trying not to laugh. “You have to hit the beat, not look like you’re having a seizure.”

“I am hitting it!” he insists, mid flail. “This is rhythm!”

“Okay, Bruno Mars,” Nolan deadpans, walking behind him with two thumbs up and his most sarcastic face. “Real smooth.”

You groan and press stop on the recording, checking the footage on your phone. “We have like fifteen drafts and not one usable take. I swear to God, you guys are the worst unpaid talent.”

Christian plucks a chip from his bag. “Yeah, but we’re pretty.”

You open your mouth to fire back when your phone buzzes. It's a FaceTime from Kimi.

You answer it immediately, turning the screen toward the guys so he can see them too. “Look who it is. The Italian menace himself.”

Kimi appears on-screen, face slightly sweaty and wild-haired, clearly between sessions. “Why are Nolan and Pato dancing like they’ve been electrocuted?”

“They’re filming for the socials,” you say, biting back a grin. “Badly.”

“Tell your minions to sit down,” Kimi says, rolling his eyes, “because I have important news.”

“I don’t like that phrasing,” Nolan mutters, even as he sits.

“What’s up?” you ask, curiosity piqued.

Kimi adjusts his headset, leans closer to the screen, and smiles—that mischievous smile he’s had since you were twelve and he dared you to eat track gravel for five bucks.

“Come to Miami,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I’m serious,” he says. “You’ve been buried in TikToks and schedules and… whatever else you do all day.”

“Excuse me—” you start, but he keeps going.

“—and I miss you,” Kimi says, softer now. “It’s Miami GP weekend. The whole grid’s here. You need a break. And I need my best friend back. Even if it’s just for a few days.”

Your chest does a weird fluttery thing. It’s rare that Kimi asks for anything, especially like this. You haven’t seen him in months. You haven’t been to an F1 paddock since last summer. And the way he says I miss you like it physically hurts? Yeah, you’re already opening your calendar.

“Plus,” he adds quickly, “I may or may not have someone here who’s been asking to meet you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Kimi…”

He shrugs, far too innocent. “Tall. British. Drives fast. Gets all red in the face when I mention your name.”

“Oh my god,” Nolan groans from the side. “Please tell me he’s not trying to set you up with Ollie Bearman.”

“Hey!” Pato perks up. “I like that kid. He said I was the funniest person he’s ever met.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s because you taught him how to say ‘I have rizz’ in Spanish.”

Kimi looks too pleased with himself. “So? What do you say?”

You glance at your chaotic crew— Christian eating chips, Nolan face-down on the floor groaning in protest, and Pato spinning in a circle like he’s celebrating something even though you have no idea what.

And then you look back at your best friend, the boy who grew up racing you through go-kart corners and sending you dumb memes at 2 a.m. because “this reminded me of you.”

You smile.

“Get me a pass, Antonelli. I’ll be in Miami.”

—

You’ve barely had time to throw clothes into a suitcase before you’re being herded into Nolan’s car like a toddler on a field trip.

Pato’s in the front seat, singing along to some old reggaetón song at full volume, and Christian’s squeezed beside you in the back, holding your carry-on. Nolan’s driving like he’s being timed, eyes narrowed behind the wheel.

“You sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Nolan asks for the fifth time. “We could just—get coffee near the airport. Wait at the gate. Sit outside the terminal and stare menacingly at every British boy who walks past.”

You snort. “You guys are acting like I’m going to war. I’m going to Miami. To see Kimi. And maybe flirt with someone slightly out of my league.”

“Slightly?!” Pato turns around in his seat. “Girl, that boy is practically in love with you already. I give him one day before he crumbles.”

Christian leans into your shoulder, stage-whispers, “He’s gonna cry. I just know it.”

“Can we not talk about my love life like it’s a Netflix special?” you say, elbowing him.

Nolan glances at you in the rearview mirror. “Just remember, if he breaks your heart—”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.”

“I was gonna say ‘I’ll cry about it for a week and then make Pato fight him,’ but your version works too.”

—

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing at the drop off curb, suitcase in hand, sunglasses on, and the Arrow McLaren boys looking like they’re about to send you off to boarding school instead of a weekend in Miami.

“Text us when you land,” Christian says, pulling you into a hug.

“Text us when you see him,” Pato adds, “and if he does that awkward smile thing, record it.”

Nolan doesn’t hug you at first—just crosses his arms and looks at you for a second like he’s weighing how many decisions led to this moment.

“You know I trust you,” he says. “It’s him I don’t trust.”

You smile and wrap your arms around him anyway. “You’re such a good fake big brother.”

“I am older than you.”

“By like two minutes.”

He groans. “Godspeed, you little menace.”

As you wheel your suitcase toward the entrance, you glance back just once—just in time to see Pato blow you a kiss, Christian making a heart with his hands, and Nolan mouthing something very dramatic that’s probably either “Call me” or “Don’t die.”

And as the sliding doors close behind you, your phone buzzes with a text from Kimi.

gate c. ollie’s already asking what you’re wearing. i told him probably something that’ll kill him.

You grin. Miami, here you come.

—

You step off the plane with sunglasses on, AirPods in, and just enough confidence to fake like you aren’t internally freaking out. Your phone buzzes with a message from Kimi as you head toward baggage claim.

kimi: we’re here. british boy is already pacing. 10/10 entertainment.

You stifle a laugh, texting back as you walk.

pls film

kimi: he is not a performing monkey

kimi: *sent a video*

[attachment: ollie pacing with his hands in his pockets, kicking the floor like a schoolboy waiting to ask someone to prom]

You roll your eyes, heart racing in a way you’re not prepared to unpack right now. You’ve never actually met Ollie—just a few chaotic TikTok tags, some suspiciously flirty DMs, and a rather…interesting comment. So yeah, no pressure.

As you round the corner into the arrivals area, you spot him instantly.

He’s standing next to Kimi, hands still in his pockets, a bit too fidgety for someone as composed as he usually pretends to be. His hair’s a little messy, and he’s wearing a Haas shirt that looks slightly too big, which—rude—shouldn’t look that good.

When he spots you, it’s like the world glitches.

His mouth actually falls open for half a second before he snaps it shut again like he’s just remembered how to function. You fight a smile as you slow your pace, dragging your suitcase behind you like a runway model trying not to trip on anxiety.

Kimi smirks. “Told you she was real.”

Ollie blinks, then steps forward, visibly trying to pull himself together. “Hi. Um. Hi.”

“You already said that,” you tease, tilting your head.

“I—right. Sorry.” He gives a breathless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—wow. You look… wow.”

“Is that your way of saying I look better in real life than on TikTok?”

“No,” he says quickly. “I mean, yes? But also no? You look great on TikTok. You just—this is worse. You’re worse.”

Kimi sighs. “We’re gonna workshop your flirting later.”

You reach out, gently tapping his arm. “It’s okay. I think it’s cute when boys forget how to speak around me.”

“I’m usually much cooler than this,” Ollie mumbles.

“No, he’s not,” Kimi says. “He once spilled a protein shake all over his passport because the flight attendant asked if he needed anything.”

You blink. “Wait, seriously?”

Ollie groans. “Kimi—”

“Ollie Bearman, soaking wet, holding a smoothie-covered document.”

You burst out laughing, warmth blooming in your chest. You forgot how easy it is to be around Kimi, how quickly you slide into this comfortable, chaotic rhythm—and Ollie fits into it like he’s always been part of it.

“Come on,” Kimi says, grabbing your suitcase before you can protest. “We’ve got a Miami GP to conquer and a British boy to emotionally wreck.”

“Mission already accomplished,” Ollie mutters as he falls into step beside you, cheeks still pink.

And maybe it’s the heat, or the exhaustion, or the adrenaline of it all—but as your shoulders brush on the way out of the terminal, his hand accidentally brushes yours. You don’t pull away. Neither does he.

—

yn_siegel

liked by olliebearman, nolansiegel, patriciooward and 125,007 others.

yn_siegel : lights out in the 305

tagged : olliebearman, georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and mercedesamgf1

—

view 35,007 other comments.

elbaoward : body ody ody 😻

liked by yn_siegel

↳ elbaoward : text me all the details rn

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : got you bb

kimi.antonelli : we were laughing at that video of ollie embarrassing himself in front of you

liked by yn_siegel, olliebearman and georgerussell63

↳ kimi.antonelli: also i helped him pick out those flowers

liked by yn_siegel

patriciooward : i demand a formal explanation. preferably in meme form.

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : do they have to be memes of you or just in general

liked by patriciooward

↳ patriciooward : i am not picky. im just nosey

liked by yn_siegel

lungaardofficial : admin on vacation arc unlocked

liked by yn_siegel

↳ patriciooward : and left us all by ourselves in illinois 🙄

liked by yn_siegel, nolansiegel and lungaardofficial

nolansiegel : mom said no boys until you’re 50

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : mom did not say that. you did

↳ nolansiegel : okay but im older so i make the rules

↳ yn_siegel : i will get you fired hush

↳ nolansiegel : 🤨

olliebearman : almost dropped to my knees and started barking on that beach

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : wore it specifically for you

liked by olliebearman

↳ nolansiegel : delete this. now.

↳ patriciooward : yn please put your little british man on a leash before nolan explodes

liked by yn_siegel

—

The Miami paddock is buzzing, hot, and loud—but Kimi Antonelli walks through it like he owns the place. You’re barely five minutes into his “VIP Mercedes Tour” and he’s already managed to get stopped twice—once by Toto for a quick word, and once by a teenage fan who nervously asked if you were his girlfriend.

Kimi nearly choked. “God, no.”

You patted the kid’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’re just siblings in chaos.”

Now you’re weaving between engineers and shimmering black carbon fiber, trying not to accidentally knock over something worth more than your college tuition. Kimi gestures broadly to the cars like a game show host.

“And here, my dear best friend, we have my pride and joy. Fast. Angry. Expensive. Like you when you haven’t had coffee.”

You snort. “She looks like she could run me over and I’d thank her.”

He nods solemnly. “She has.”

You follow him deeper into the garage, passing a few Mercedes mechanics who nod at you politely. 

“Do I get to meet George?” you ask.

Kimi smirks. “He said he’s emotionally preparing for that.”

You’re about to ask what that means when a familiar British voice cuts through the air behind you, breathless and just a little panicked. 

“Hi—uh, excuse me? Sorry— Kimi?”

You and Kimi both turn. And there he is. Ollie Bearman. Slightly sweaty, curls a little messy under the Florida sun, wearing a black Haas team polo and looking like he just ran here straight from a mental breakdown.

He glances at you, then back at Kimi. “Can I, uh… borrow her?”

Kimi raises a brow. “You mean—my guest?”

“Yes. Please. I’ll bring her back in one piece.”

You cross your arms, half amused. “What exactly are you planning, Bearman?”

He blushes. “A tour. Of the Haas garage. For science.”

Kimi rolls his eyes. “Fine. But if she comes back with heatstroke or love in her eyes, I’m telling Nolan.” 

You smile, bump Kimi with your hip, and follow Ollie out of the pristine silver garage and toward the more chaotic, scrappy energy of Haas.

The moment you step inside, Ollie starts nervously narrating everything like he’s reading off Wikipedia.

“So, um—this is our control wall. That’s where my engineer pretends to listen to me. And, uh, over here is where I usually sit and cry after quali.”

You laugh. “Wow. What a dream team.”

He glances at you, a shy grin tugging at his lips. “I didn’t think you’d actually come this weekend.”

“Kimi basically dragged me. And then told me how nervous you were, so I had to come.”

Ollie turns bright red. “That was—I was joking! Mostly.”

You smirk. “Sure you were. For the record, it worked.”

He stops walking, heart clearly beating out of his chest, and rubs the back of his neck. “You look amazing today. I mean—you always do, but—today especially. It’s distracting.”

“Distracting?” you tease.

“Like, I almost missed my sim session thinking about this outfit.”

You try to keep it together, but your grin is too wide. “You’re lucky I find you adorable.”

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath since you arrived. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A pause. Tension. Sunshine pouring in through the open garage. You’re standing way too close now.

“Come on,” he says, softly, taking your hand. “I haven’t even shown you where we keep the fireproof suits. It’s the most romantic part.”

You follow him willingly, completely smitten.

Back at Mercedes, Kimi checks his watch.

“Three minutes late returning her,” he mutters. “I will be charging interest.”

—

The paddock is quiet now. The chaos is gone—the engine roars replaced with soft wind and distant voices, the sun melting into the Miami skyline like gold poured over the edges of the grandstands.

You and Ollie are sitting side by side on the edge of the pit wall, legs swinging over the track, helmets and press obligations long forgotten. His fire suit is half unzipped, rolled down to his waist, and your legs are tucked beneath you in a way that makes you feel like you’re sixteen again, sneaking onto the track after dark.

You don’t say anything for a while. You just sit there, watching the streaks of orange and purple stretch across the asphalt, breathing in the warmth, the calm, the faint leftover smell of burnt rubber.

Ollie’s shoulder bumps yours gently. “You ever just… wish you could freeze a moment?”

You glance at him. “You want to freeze this?”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I mean… it was a good race. I didn’t crash. You were there. The sun’s doing that thing where it makes everything look like a movie.”

You smile. “You are a movie boy, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying to have a romantic moment and you’re bullying me.”

You laugh, but it’s quiet. Warm. “I’m not bullying you. I think it’s cute. It’s just… you’re so serious all of a sudden.”

He shrugs, eyes still on the track. “I don’t know. It’s just… surreal, I guess. Like, I’ve watched you through a screen for so long. Seen your videos, your cursed memes, your beach dumps. And now you’re here. Sitting next to me. After my race. Like this.”

“Like this?”

He turns to look at you then, fully. “Like… I’m allowed to want more.”

Your breath catches a little. He’s always been sweet, charming, flirty in the way boys get when they don’t know what to do with their feelings. But this is different. This is real.

You reach over and gently lace your fingers through his. “You’re allowed.”

Ollie exhales slowly, like he’d been holding that in all weekend.

You both watch the sun dip lower, casting shadows across the pit lane. The floodlights haven’t turned on yet, and there’s a magic to the quiet—like the world forgot you were here, and you’re happy to be forgotten just a little longer.

After a minute, Ollie leans his head against your shoulder. “Don’t tell Nolan, but I think I’m kind of falling for you.”

You smile, your heart pulling in every soft direction. “Too late. I think Nolan already knows. He called you ‘the threat’ in our group chat.”

He groans. “Fantastic.”

“You’re handling it very well.”

“I’m trying to be brave,” he mutters, clearly not brave at all.

You kiss the top of his curls and feel him melt just a little. The moment sits, delicate and golden. Until—

“Am I interrupting your indie rom-com or can we go eat now?”

You both jump slightly and turn to see Kimi standing a few feet away, arms crossed, wearing sunglasses despite the sun literally setting.

Ollie sighs. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to feel lonely,” Kimi deadpans.

You roll your eyes. “We’ll be right there.”

Kimi throws up his hands. “I’m getting fries without you!”

And then he disappears down the paddock, muttering something in Italian that you’re 90% sure translates to “God, they’re unbearable.”

You look at Ollie again. He’s smiling.

“Still want to freeze this?” you ask.

He nods. “Even with the third-wheel feature.”

You squeeze his hand and lean your head on his shoulder. The sun finally sinks below the horizon. And yeah—you kind of wish it would stay like this forever.

—

You’re not sure how it happened exactly—one second you were scrolling through beach restaurants near the hotel, and the next, Ollie had already packed a cooler, “borrowed” a beach umbrella, and dragged you outside with sunscreen in one hand and your hand in the other.

“I’m English,” he says dramatically as you walk toward the sand, “so if I spontaneously combust from sun exposure, you’re legally required to carry me home.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d carry you,” you shoot back. “You’d melt into a puddle before I even got to the towel.”

He stops and turns to you with a mock-serious expression. “Then at least scatter my ashes somewhere pretty.”

You snort. “Done.”

It’s hot, humid, and perfect. The beach is scattered with locals and sunburnt tourists, but Ollie finds a quieter spot by the dunes and insists on setting everything up while you sit down and reapply your sunscreen. He’s a little clumsy unfolding the umbrella—there’s a brief moment where you think he’s going to launch it into orbit—but eventually he gets it up with a proud grin.

“I am officially the most competent British man you’ve ever had,” he declares.

“You’re also the only British man I’ve ever had,” you tease.

He grins. “So I’m in the lead. Excellent.”

You spend the next hour lounging, dipping your toes in the water, and watching Ollie try to build a sandcastle that keeps collapsing.

“It’s about the architecture,” he insists, as another tower crumbles.

“It’s about the moisture content,” you reply, grabbing a bottle of water and helping him out. “I was literally raised around engineers. You think I don’t know sand science?”

He raises a brow. “Okay, nerd.”

You splash him.

Ollie yelps and tackles you into the shallow surf with a laugh, both of you soaked in seconds. You scream and flail and accidentally knock his hat into the water, which he dives for with Olympic-level commitment.

By the time you’re back on the towel, laughing and breathless, the sun is already starting to dip lower in the sky, turning the water gold.

Ollie lies beside you, one arm folded behind his head, the other resting near yours—so close, it only takes the slightest movement to close the gap.

You don’t speak for a moment. You just listen to the waves, to the quiet, to the world softening around the edges.

Then Ollie speaks.

“I’ve never felt this normal,” he says quietly.

You glance over. “What do you mean?”

He hesitates. “Just… I’m always either being watched or judged or hyped up for something that hasn’t even happened yet. But this? You and me. Sand in my socks. Getting dunked in the ocean. No cameras. No pressure. It feels real.”

You swallow, feeling that fluttery warmth bloom in your chest again—the one that always shows up around him, steady and undeniable.

“I get it,” you say softly. “You make things feel real for me too.”

Ollie turns his head and meets your gaze.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And before either of you can overthink it, you lean in. It’s not dramatic. It’s not a movie moment. Just sun-warmed lips, sunscreen-scented cheeks, and his fingers brushing yours as he kisses you like he’s known your mouth forever.

When you pull back, he looks dazed in the cutest possible way.

“I think I’m in trouble,” he says.

You grin. “You’ve been in trouble.”

—

The trouble starts before you even make it into the store. Kimi’s already suspiciously eyeing a mannequin in the display window, and Ollie is two steps behind him, nervously mumbling something about how “the last time he touched a hat rack in Zara it collapsed.”

You sigh, grabbing each of them by the sleeve. “You two are the reason I have to mentally prepare before doing anything in public. Promise me you’ll be normal in here.”

Kimi raises a brow. “Define normal.”

“Don’t get us kicked out. Don’t break anything. Don’t steal anything.”

Ollie gasps, clutching his chest. “Are you accusing me of petty theft?”

“I know you,” you say flatly. “I know you both.”

“It was an accident!” Ollie cries.

“It was most definitely on purpose,” Kimi deadpans.

You grin. “So just—keep your hands to yourselves and let’s buy a new shirt for Kimi before he shows up to dinner tonight looking like a depressed librarian. Can we handle that Mr. and Mrs. Credit Card Fraud?”

Once inside, it’s chaos in its purest form.

Kimi grabs the first five button-downs he sees and disappears into a changing room without looking at the sizes. You and Ollie wander through racks, touching random fabrics and rating them on a scale from “could survive a paddock day” to “makes me look like I do crypto.”

“This one’s kind of cool,” Ollie says, holding up a striped shirt. “Do I look like someone who orders oat milk and listens to sad girl music?”

You tilt your head. “You are someone who listens to sad girl music.”

“That’s true,” he says, proudly.

A few minutes later, Kimi emerges from the fitting room in a pastel pink linen shirt that’s at least two sizes too small. You almost choke.

“Kimi,” you say, voice tight with laughter, “you look like a Love Island contestant who lost the villa vote.”

Ollie snorts so hard he has to turn away.

Kimi shrugs, deadpan. “I look amazing. This is fashion.”

“No,” you say. “This is embarrassing.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

Ollie’s still dying in the background when a store employee walks by and gives you all a look. You offer an apologetic smile. Kimi immediately salutes her. Ollie panics and says “Sorry we’re European,” which somehow makes it worse.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We are on a timer now.”

Twenty minutes, two questionable sunglasses purchases, and one accidental detour into the women's section later, you're walking out of the store with Kimi in a new shirt (miraculously purchased, not stolen), Ollie in a hat he definitely didn't need, and your arms full of impulse buys.

“I think we handled that well,” Ollie says cheerfully.

“You tripped over a display table and knocked over three mannequins,” you reply.

“Only two!”

“And Kimi tried to flirt his way out of paying for socks.”

“She asked if I wanted the receipt,” Kimi says. “I thought it was a trick question.”

You laugh, stepping between them as you walk. Kimi throws an arm over your shoulder like he’s claimed you for the rest of the day, but Ollie bumps him aside to loop his pinky through yours.

“Mine,” he mutters, under his breath.

Kimi rolls his eyes. “You two are exhausting.”

You grin, leaning into both of them.

“Don’t worry,” you say. “You’re lucky I keep you around.”

—

Ollie’s hands have been gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than usual for the entire ride. You glance over at him as the airport sign comes into view—his curls are still a little messy from the early morning Miami humidity, his jaw clenched just barely, like he’s thinking too hard about something he doesn’t know how to say. You decide not to push. Yet. The car slows at the drop-off zone. He slides into park, eyes flicking to you, then back to the windshield.

“This is the part where you dramatically beg me not to leave and I pretend to hesitate but still get on the plane,” you tease, breaking the silence.

He laughs—soft, a little breathless. “I was gonna go with something a bit more subtle.”

You smile, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “We both know subtlety isn’t your strength.”

Before you can reach for the door handle, he stops you—fingers gently wrapping around your wrist. You pause, turning to look at him, and— Ollie’s looking at you like you hung the moon and then handed him the stars for fun.

“I, um…” He clears his throat, shifts in his seat like it’ll help him think. “This weekend was… kind of perfect.”

You tilt your head. “Even with Kimi yelling at you every five minutes?”

He grins. “Especially with Kimi yelling at me every five minutes.”

You wait, patient, heart already fluttering like it knows where this is going.

“I just…” He exhales, suddenly shy, and you realize—this boy, who throws a car around at 200 miles an hour, who barks in Instagram comments and flirts like it’s a second language—is scared. And somehow that makes it even sweeter.

“I really like you,” he says finally. “Not just in the ‘we had a fun weekend and you look insane in a sparkly outfit’ kind of way. Like… the ‘I wanna text you every morning’ kind of way. The ‘I want you in every paddock’ kind of way.”

Your heart squeezes. He’s looking down now, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve never… properly asked anyone before. I’m usually terrible at this. But—would you maybe want to be mine?”

You don’t answer right away. Not with words. Instead, you lean across the console, wrap your arms around his neck, and kiss him. It’s soft, slow, and full of every unspoken “yes” that’s been building since he first smiled at you across the paddock.

When you pull back, he’s pink-cheeked and breathless.

“So…” he whispers.

You grin. “Yes, Oliver. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

He visibly relaxes, grinning like a boy who just won the whole damn championship.

“Okay, cool,” he says, voice cracking slightly. “No pressure but I’ve been mentally rehearsing that since yesterday.”

You giggle, opening the car door.

“Now go win some races,” you tell him, stepping out.

“And text me when you land?” he calls after you.

“I’ll text you from the gate.”

You blow him a kiss through the window before heading inside, heart racing for all the right reasons. He waits until you’re out of view, then lets out a breath and bangs his head lightly against the steering wheel, grinning like an idiot. She said yes.

—

You spot him before he spots you. Pato’s leaning against a rental car in full sunglasses and baseball cap disguise, sipping a cold brew like he’s hiding from TMZ. You drag your suitcase toward him, rolling your eyes fondly.

“You look like a washed up boyband member trying not to get recognized at LAX,” you say.

He lifts his sunglasses with dramatic flair. “Excuse me, some of us are international superstars.”

You hug him anyway. He hugs you back, ruffling your hair and muttering “you smell like airport sadness.”

He throws your suitcase into the trunk like it weighs nothing and then immediately opens the passenger door for you with a little bow. “Come on, princesa. Tell me everything.”

You raise a brow. “About what?”

“You know what,” he grins as you get in. “Did he cry when you left? Did you cry when he left? Did he do the forehead kiss? The forehead kiss is the killer move.”

“I am not discussing forehead kisses with you,” you mutter, blushing instantly.

“Oh my God he did the forehead kiss.” He smacks the steering wheel. “You’re in deep.”

You sink into the seat. “I hate you.”

“No, you love me. Because I’m the cooler older brother. Not the scary one. The fun one. The one who lets you get away with crimes and bad decisions.”

You snort. “Which is why I’m not telling you everything.”

He gasps. “I drove thirty minutes in traffic to pick you up and you won’t even let me live through your love life???”

“You’ll survive,” you say sweetly, kicking your feet up on the dash.

Thirty minutes later, Pato pulls up at the team hotel in the next race city—sleek, bright, busy with media teams already swarming the lobby. He grabs your suitcase and gives you a final, overly dramatic spin-hug before you go.

“Tell lover boy to bring me flowers next time.”

“Tell Nolan to chill,” you mutter under your breath.

But when you swipe your keycard and open the door to your hotel room—he’s already there.

Nolan’s sitting on the arm of the couch, arms crossed, eyes narrowed like a concerned mom waiting for her daughter to sneak in after curfew.

“…Hi?”

“Where have you been?” he asks immediately, narrowing his eyes.

You drag your suitcase into the room and kick the door closed behind you. “Landing. Existing. Being cooler than you.”

“Liar,” he says casually, standing up and folding his arms. “You’re glowing. And your hair’s all perfect. And you’re humming. You never hum.”

“I always hum,” you argue, dropping onto the bed. “You just never notice because you’re always complaining about something.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

You grab a pillow and chuck it at him. “There is no subject.”

“There’s a vibe,” he says darkly. “A vibe I don’t like. You’ve being weird. So—what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you sing, flopping back onto the bed.

“Is it a guy?” Nolan asks, voice sharpening.

You blink up at the ceiling. “You’re very paranoid for someone who’s been eating plain chicken and rice for five days straight.”

“I knew it,” he mutters, pacing now. “It is a guy.”

You sit up, laughing. “Why are you acting like I’ve been radicalized?”

He points at you dramatically. “You’re not denying it.”

You raise your brows. “I’m also not confirming it.”

His jaw drops. “So you admit there’s someone.”

“I admit nothing,” you say sweetly. “Except that you’re insane.”

He grabs a throw pillow, holds it like a whiteboard, and starts fake-scribbling. “Okay, so timeline: Miami GP. Beach photos. One blurry bouquet photo. And now you’re all soft and glowy like you’ve been in love or kissed or something disgusting. I swear to God if it’s someone on the grid—”

“Are you done, Sherlock?” you cut in.

“Not even close,” he says, throwing himself onto the other bed dramatically. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this. And if any British boy tries to get cute with you, I will call someone and have him benched for emotional distress.”

You laugh so hard your stomach actually hurts.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m your twin,” he says proudly. “It’s in the contract.”

You flop back on the bed, still smiling. “Good luck finding proof.”

Nolan narrows his eyes. “Oh, I don’t need proof. I have instincts. And they’re buzzing.”

You close your eyes, already planning your next move. Let him be suspicious. You’ll confess when you’re ready. But for now? Ollie’s your soft secret—and Nolan’s wild theories are just background noise to the fluttering in your chest that hasn’t stopped since that last kiss.

—

arrowmclaren

liked by patriciooward, olliebearman, nolansiegel and 35,007 others.

arrowmclaren : admin is back!! everyone say YAYYYYYYYY

—

view 1853 other comments.

username00 : never leave us again or we riot

liked by arrowmclaren

↳ arrowmclaren : never again queen

username55 : YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY (we r only here for you)

liked by arrowmclaren

↳ arrowmclaren : my soul feels all warm and fuzzy

nolansiegel : yay. 🙄

↳ nolansiegel : admin is back and so r my trust issues

↳ arrowmclaren : take this negativity elsewhere before i bring up "team bonding exercises" to HR

liked by patriciooward

patriciooward : i missed you pls never leave again we’re stupid without you

liked by arrowmclaren

↳ arrowmclaren : you guys r stupid even when im here.. but i missed you dearly my patito

liked by patriciooward

—

a month later...

yn_siegel

liked by patriciooward, nolansiegel, kimi.antonelli and 155,090 others.

yn_siegel : lets play where is yn now...(ft pato and norbi my uber drivers who so graciously took me to the airport.)

—

view 10,009 other comments.

username00 : queen remember when you said you'd never leave us again

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : yes but technically i am still working!

↳ username00 : id leave for ollie too so i get it girl

liked by yn_siegel

patriciooward : we didn’t even get 5 stars on the ride. rude.

liked by yn_siegel

↳ yn_siegel : norbi got head kisses and you got all the tea so i call it even

liked by patriciooward

↳ patriciooward : fair fair

kimi.antonelli : i know exactly where you are, who you are with and i’m not telling the internet

liked by yn_siegel

↳ nolansiegel : PLEASE KIMI

↳ kimi.antonelli : suddenly i know nothing

liked by yn_siegel

nolansiegel : pato i am going to end you for enabling this

liked by yn_siegel and patriciooward

—

Ollie squeezes your hand for the tenth time as you pull into the drive.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, trying to hide his grin.

“I’m not shaking,” you lie, smoothing your hair with your free hand. “I’m vibrating with nerves. It’s different.”

He laughs, leaning across the car to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “They’re going to love you. I promise.”

“I’m literally the American social media girl from the IndyCar paddock,” you mutter. “This could go so badly.”

“You could show up in a McLaren shirt and they’d still love you,” he says. “Well—Mum might raise an eyebrow. But Thomas would immediately ask to take it off and burn it.”

That makes you laugh. He gets out and jogs around to your side of the car before you can even touch the door handle. Of course he opens it for you. Gentleman since day one. You step out, take one deep breath, and follow him to the front door of the Bearman house.

Before you can even knock, the front door swings open.

Thomas Bearman stands there in mismatched socks, Adidas slides, and a hoodie. He gives you a once-over like he’s scanning for threats. Then looks at Ollie.

“This her?”

Ollie sighs. “Yes, this is YN.”

Thomas crosses his arms. “She looks too normal. I thought you said she was, like, intense.”

“Wow,” you say flatly. “Thank you for the warm welcome.”

His mouth twitches like he might smile. “Just checking your vibe. You pass.”

“Do I get a sticker?”

“No, but you’re allowed inside,” he deadpans, stepping back so you can enter.

“Charming,” you mutter.

Ollie whispers, “He likes you. That’s him being sweet.”

Inside, the house smells like lemon cake and roast potatoes. You barely have time to take it in before you hear a dramatic gasp.

“Oh my god, is this her?!”

Amalie bursts in from the hallway like she’s making her red carpet debut—small, opinionated, and already squinting at you like she’s solving a mystery.

“You’re prettier than Instagram made you look.”

“…Thank you?”

She spins on Ollie. “How did you pull her?”

“Okay,” Ollie groans, rubbing his eyes. “We’re not doing this.”

Amalie tugs on your sleeve and whispers, way too loudly, “Don’t tell him, but I always thought he’d end up alone with a racing sim and no friends.”

“I CAN HEAR YOU,” Ollie shouts from the kitchen.

You’re full-on giggling now. A soft voice interrupts from the hallway—“Everyone behave, please.”

His mum appears, warm smile and tired eyes, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“You must be YN. It’s so lovely to meet you, darling.”

She gives you a real hug. None of the awkward, too-polite handshake stuff.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she adds. “Ollie said you’re used to eating in hospitality tents and garages, so we’re giving you something real tonight.”

“I’m starving,” you admit.

His dad follows soon after—same smile as Ollie, but with more wrinkles and less sleep. He gives you a firm handshake and a wink. “Welcome to the madness.”

Dinner is loud and warm and weird in the best way. Amalie peppers you with questions like she’s interviewing you for a school project. Thomas mostly listens, but chimes in with dry commentary that reminds you of Nolan. His mum makes you promise to send her skincare recommendations. And Ollie looks at you like you’re already part of the family.

After dessert, Thomas finally speaks up with something resembling real emotion.

“You’re cool,” he says with a shrug. “Not cringe.”

“That’s the highest compliment he knows how to give,” Ollie whispers.

“Shut up,” Thomas mutters, but he’s smiling.

Later, after helping Amalie make hot chocolate and watching Thomas show you one of his karting videos, you and Ollie slip out into the garden, the sun starting to dip below the fence line.

You sit together on the patio, shoulder to shoulder, warm mugs in hand.

“You did it,” he says softly. “They love you.”

You glance over, heart full. “I kind of love them, too.”

He smiles, leans in, presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“Stay a little longer?”

You lean your head on his shoulder and whisper, “Try and stop me.”

—

You’re lying in Ollie’s bed, his hoodie hanging off your shoulder and your legs tangled with his under the covers when your phone starts buzzing across the mattress.

the ugly twin wants to FaceTime...

You and Ollie both freeze.

“Oh no,” you whisper, scrambling upright. “Oh no no no—he saw the post.”

Ollie props himself up on one elbow, blinking innocently. “You mean the one where your legs are very clearly next to a boy’s?”

“I thought the mystery added flavor!”

Your phone keeps buzzing.

You inhale deeply, smooth your hair, and pick up—just as you see Pato's face pop into Nolan’s background, already losing it.

“YOOO she picked up!” Pato cackles. “She’s alive!”

“Nolan, hi,” you say as calmly as possible.

He is not calm.

“Where the hell are you?”

“I—”

“You were supposed to be at the track an hour ago! Media asked where you were! Your credentials are still in my backpack! You posted a photo dump like you’re backpacking Europe with a stranger and your phone is off! What is going on?!”

“I’m fine,” you say quickly. “Just… running late. And kind of… not in that country anymore.”

Pato absolutely loses it in the background. You hear him wheezing.

“WHAT?” Nolan explodes. “Where are you???”

“I took a few days off,” you say carefully. “Rest and recharge.”

“In a man’s hoodie?!” Nolan shrieks. “Don’t lie. I zoomed in. Those are boy thighs next to yours in that sneaker photo.”

“That’s a wild thing to say out loud.”

“WHOSE THIGHS?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“PATO KNOWS,” Nolan accuses, spinning the phone. “He’s laughing. Look at him. He’s laughing like a goblin.”

Pato waves sweetly from the background. “Hi! I’m staying out of it. Mostly. But she did meet his mum soooo—”

“HIS MUM?!”

You grab a pillow and yell into it.

Ollie is now on the other side of the bed absolutely howling, facedown in a blanket.

Nolan’s voice is going full twin meltdown mode now. “If you are with a driver and I find out through Instagram I’m going to—”

You cut him off with a nervous laugh. “I promise I’m safe. I promise I’m happy. I’ll be back before race day. Please don’t start a manhunt.”

He pauses.

“…Is it someone I know?” he asks suspiciously.

You blink. “I mean, define ‘know’.”

Pato snorts. “Oh he knows him. Biblically.”

You mouth I hate you to Pato.

“I’m sending a list of suspects,” Nolan says, already opening Notes. “You’ll tell me hot or cold.”

You hang up. Immediately. And throw yourself onto Ollie’s chest with a groan.

“He’s going to go feral.”

Ollie kisses your temple. “Want me to send him flowers?”

You sit up. “Absolutely not. That would confirm everything.”

Your phone buzzes again.

the ugly twin hot or cold... bear-esque british boy.

You throw it across the bed.

—

You’re halfway through the paddock when Ollie tugs on your sleeve.

“Okay,” he whispers, “walk me through this again.”

You stop, tug him behind a hospitality truck like you're planning a secret heist.

“Step one. Do not panic.”

“Already failing.”

“Step two. Be charming and slightly pathetic. Nolan likes rescuing puppies.”

“I’m not a puppy.”

“You have floppy hair. It’s close enough.”

Ollie narrows his eyes. “This is starting to feel like a setup.”

“It is a setup,” Pato says from behind you.

You both jump. He’s grinning, leaning casually against the trailer, sipping something orange.

“You’re early,” you mutter.

“I wanted a front row seat,” Pato beams. “Nolan has NO idea he’s here, right?”

You shake your head. “None. I told him I was bringing a guest from the UK and he assumed it was a special guest or someone from comms.”

“I am a special guest,” Ollie mumbles.

“You’re a special guest with a death wish,” Pato says brightly. “He’s been spiraling for weeks.”

You glance at Ollie.

“Ready?”

“No.”

You kiss his cheek. “Too bad.”

—

You drag him through the motorhome doors just as Nolan’s zipping up his suit and grabbing his water bottle.

“Hey!” you call.

He turns. “Took you long enough. Did your mysterious plus one get lost in security?”

“Not quite,” you say, stepping aside. “Nolan, this is—”

Ollie holds out a hand. “Hi. Ollie.”

There’s a long pause. Nolan blinks.

Then stares at you. Then at Ollie. Then back at you. Pato chokes on his drink in the corner.

“You brought him?!”

“Surprise?” you try.

Ollie’s hand is still out. Nolan does not shake it.

“I knew it. I knew it. I saw the leg in the background of that beach photo! You said it was Kimi’s!”

“He was there!” you protest. “Just not in that moment!”

Pato is wheezing so hard now he’s had to sit down.

“I KNEW it,” Nolan mutters. “I knew it was him. He’s been in the comments like a lovesick teenager!”

Ollie clears his throat. “I’m…really happy to meet you. Officially.”

“Don’t try to be British and polite now,” Nolan says. “You’re dating my twin.”

Ollie freezes. Nolan turns to you.

“He is dating you, right?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “He is.”

For a second, no one breathes. Then Nolan sighs deeply, grabs a granola bar from the counter, and says, “Fine. But if he crashes your heart like he crashes that hundred million dollar car, I’m flying to the UK and keying his car.”

“Nolan!”

“I’m joking,” he says. “Mostly. Welcome to IndyCar, Bearman.”

Ollie exhales in visible relief.

“Thank you.”

Nolan turns and walks out of the room—then sticks his head back in.

“And if you hurt her, I’ll send Pato after you. He might be short but he is mighty.”

Ollie groans. Pato claps his hands together. “That went GREAT. Can we all hug now or…?”

—

olliebearman

liked by kimi.antonelli, yn_siegel, patriciooward and 1,100,008 others.

olliebearman : the prettiest girl in the world is mine (i also have her twin brother threatening me and breathing my neck) but she is worth it:)

—

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—

[cathnospam]

Content Warning: College MHA AU, Reader is….weird(ish), Bakugo is somewhat clueless

You don’t know why, but your boyfriend being a crash out is hot.

Maybe it’s the toxicity in you, maybe you’re a sadomasochist, whatever the case may be, but Bakugo getting riled up is probably the top 5 hottest things you’ve seen.

Nobody understands why you like it so much, Mina thinks you’ve been brainwashed, Kiri tries not to judge, but calls you weird, Denki thinks it’s scary and you might be in danger, and Sero finds it hilarious.

Even Deku, he was the first to notice how you smirk and get all giggly when Bakugo is cursing someone out on the field and straight up blasting his heart out when he’s sparring with the poor bastard he’s against.

“Are you smiling?”

“What?”

“You’re smiling, a lot. When Kacchan blasted that wall down unnecessarily you started to smile—“

“Don’t worry about it, Izuku.”

Everybody notices it, but him.

He does notice how much clingier you are after a fight, or after he finishes yelling at someone, or even when he’s mad you’re just there stealing glances and grinning . It’s not that big of a deal to him, but he doesn’t know WHY you do it.

He’s always like this. He’s always been a hot head, that was your first impression of him.

But being a relationship with him made you see in him a new light.

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before, he still does, but it’s not similar to how he does Kaminari or even Deku. It’s usually just passive aggressive comments, mixed with grumbling.

Today was no different he was already annoyed Todoroki got the highest score during the exams and he had to spar with Monoma so of course that plus his taunt really had Bakugo in a mood.

You loved it.

Seeing him blast through walls, his fangs more prominent when he yells, the way his veins pop out of his shoulders and neck. You’re so sick in the head for liking it.

You watched, looking as dazed as you usually are when you see your Blondie fight around. You nearly began to bite your lip until Bakugo caught you.

His brows furrowed for a split second, before dodging Monoma’s move. You had to straight up.

Later that evening Bakugo began to watch you with a thoughtful look. In the common area he walked past you before saying, “Meet me outside. Now.”

“Alright what the hell is your problem. You have been staring at me all day like a fucking piece of meat. You horny…..~”

“No you dick.” You slap his arm, sitting beside him on the bench, “You just looked really good today.”

“I always look good—“

“You look AIIGHT?….You just….I like how you look when you’re fighting. And yelling. And mad—“

“You’re a damn masochist.”

“No I’m not!” You scoff making him break into a chuckle, he figured you liked SOMETHING he was doing he just couldn’t put him finger on it. He smirks at you, “Is that why you like pissing me off huh?” He playfully states while he wraps his arm around your neck and nudges you forehead with his knuckles, “Always fucking annoying the shit out me? Like seeing me mad?”

You share a laugh with him and push him off, “Maybe!..SO!? Who cares I’m complimenting you you bastard.”

“Right…” Bakugo ponders, studying your face as you both sit on the bench outside, “You’re a weird ass, is this your way of telling me I should yell at you more?”

“…” You side eye him and he immediately starts pointing at you in fake disbelief, as if he were about to insult you, “I’m kidding! I don’t want you GENUINELY angry at me.”

The blonde smirks, throwing his arm over your shoulder, he couldn’t ever be actually angry at you. He does however like to know that his outburst don’t annoy you as much as he thought they did.

[thejujvtsupost]

It’s Always Been You

🍎F!reader, pet names: (pip/squeak, my girl, sweetheart,) suggestive but not smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief miscommunication and lots of groveling but it works out.🍎

Notes: I struggle with editing. This is totally separate from canon bc I’m heartbroken. It’s also my first lads fic, I’ll ALWAYS be a Sylus girlie but Caleb broke my brain for a minute 😭

Poll for a possible part 2 -> Taglist signup for part 2

Caleb joining the DAA wasn’t the problem at hand…No, it was the fact that you were going to be separated. Spending his last night before he leaves wrapped around each other like you always did when things were tough was the best comfort you could get.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, do you really have to go?” This was going to be the longest you’ve ever been apart since you were kids, and even worse, he wasn’t allowed to have his phone.

This wasn’t any easier on him but he couldn’t just back out. “I’ll be home before you know it, don’t worry too much.” Caleb brushed the hair from your eyes and held you closer, “plus, you get to have six months free of my constant nagging.”

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say, the tears you were holding back finally fell. Your hands that were originally wrapped around his waist were now at his chest, between your bodies and fisted tightly in his shirt. “But I love you and your nagging!” You inhaled like you were suffocating. Perhaps you were, under the weight of his impending absence.

“Shh I know, I love you and being a pain in your ass.” That earned him a wet chuckle. “I swear, as soon as I’m home I’ll fulfill my promise and I won’t leave your side. You’ll never have to worry again, about anything.” A soft kiss to your temple solidified his vow.

It took you a few long moments before you were able to get in a proper breath and process what he said. “You made a promise?”

“Don’t remember? Hm that won’t do. Think back to when you were 18, and that boy you had a crush on rejected you and broke your heart.”

“I’d prefer not to remember that, actually.”

“But remember after? When you still hadn’t come home by dinner and I found you alone at the park?” Large hands ran down the length of your back to help soothe you while he spoke.

You’re still lost but it’s coming back to you. Confessing to your crush in the park was supposed to be perfect— except he not only rejected you, but he made fun of you. You could respect rejection, but the way he humiliated you and made a scene wasn’t something you wanted to think about. “That day was awful.”

“You were so upset. I wanted to beat him to a pulp but you didn’t want to be alone. Remember what I told you? The pinky promise we made? It’s only been four years you know, I’d hope your memory isn’t that bad yet.”

The moment flooded you then with a gasp, ‘You’ll never be alone as long as I live sweetheart, and when it’s time, when I finally graduate and become a pilot, I swear I’ll marry you myself to prove it.’ And at the time it made you giggle, because surely he was just joking to cheer you up, right? “You meant it?”

Caleb chuckled and lifted your chin to look at you directly, “of course I did, it’s always been you and me. Don’t you know that?”

A fresh wave of tears formed as you surged forward to meet his lips with yours- and stopped out of embarrassment before you could make contact. “Sorry, I didn’t- I think I’m just being emotional—”

But the space between you closed once again and before you could overthink it, Caleb was kissing you the way he’s wanted to for years. His lips were all consuming and tender. His palm cupped your face like it was glass and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through his hair. Kissing Caleb felt like home, like everything was right.

He tried to break away to bring you both air but you refused to let him, instead pulling him closer and closer until he was on top of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his size. “Slow- slow down, you still need oxygen.” You shook when he started dragging his kisses down your throat, letting out soft moans when gentle sucks were left behind.

“C-Caleb…”

He pulled back and grew tense as if he was afraid he scared you away, “what’s wrong, you tired?” He was trying to give you an out if you wanted it.

You were certain your cheeks were flushed, you shook your head. “I want… more…”

Caleb groaned and buried his face in your neck “you’re killing me, Pip.”

Had you said something wrong? “Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I’ll just-” you loosened your arms from around him, thinking you somehow embarrassed yourself yet again.

He stopped you. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re killing me because you have no idea how badly I want you; how long I’ve wanted you.”

“Really?” Having someone like Caleb love you was the best feeling, but him being attracted to you left you wanting him even more.

Deciding to just show you, he ground his hips into yours. And god, it felt good against you. Just that little bit of contact felt better than anything you ever achieved on your own. “You’re-” hard went unsaid. He grunted when you spread your legs wider for him. “Yeah, I am. And if you want me, then you have me. But you can’t take it back, so if you’re not ready for that commitment…”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“This really isn’t the time for that—”

“Shut up, it’s important.” He sighed and let you continue. Your arms dropped from his neck to hold his face in your hands, brushing the stray hairs from his face. “That guy I had a crush on? I only liked him so much because he reminded me of you. So I’m yours, too. If you want me, then you can take me.”

Words were lost on him so actions took hold, “are you sure?” His kisses resumed their path after meeting your lips, the room grew hotter with each new brush against your skin.

“I trust you, Caleb,” you had no idea your neck was so sensitive, your gasps talking for you. “but I should let you know I’ve never done this before.”

“I’d kill anyone who ever touched you if you had”

“Isn’t that hypocritical? Should I hunt down your past lovers?” You worked his shirt over his head, the dog tag necklace you gave him mere hours ago dangled in front of your face.

He chuckled and discarded your top, your sleep shorts were next. “It’s funny how you think I’d ever want someone that isn’t you.” His revelation hit you full force: he loves you so deeply, there’s truly no doubt to have. “I’d never do this with anyone else.”

Two things happened that night: your bond was solidified, and unbeknownst to you, a life was created

The goodbye was brutal the next day, already missing him terribly before night fell again.

You managed to fall into a routine, though. You would go to work, occasionally spend time with friends— Tara spent the night with you at least once a week to keep your mind off of things; and the days she didn’t you laid in bed desperately wishing he would be by your side.

Your routine was solid, until a month into your separation when you were sick almost every single day. You were fed up by the time a week passed and the day after that you made your way to visit Zayne- who congratulated you because in his words, ‘he and his wife were expecting as well, perhaps they’ll be friends, too.’ Finding out you were pregnant without Caleb with you was difficult, there wasn’t a way to reach him and share the news.

But you weren’t alone anymore. You spent the time you felt lonely talking to your baby now, who definitely couldn’t hear you yet but that didn’t matter. You were kept company with a perfect blend of you and your Caleb.

According to the official statement released last week Caleb would be home any time today, any minute, any second.

The anticipation left butterflies in your tummy, your baby moving with your nerves. It didn’t occur to you that he might not be happy to be a father, that you might’ve been presumptuous that he’d be ready to care for another life so soon.

And when the door flew open, as much as you wanted to jump into his arms (carefully, of course,) you held your breath and waited for him to notice. And of course, because he was your Caleb, it was right away. His happiness and relief fell away to shock and— was that anger? You didn’t expect anger…

“Welcome home, I—”

“Who else has been here?”

“What? I mean Tara has been keeping me company a few times a week but that’s it.”

“What man has been in our home, pipsqueak.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, just a demand. He’s never been so terse with you…

His tone made you anxious, “No one, other than Zayne and his wife for dinner occasionally— Caleb what are you talking about?”

Caleb dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, still not moving from his spot. “I’m talking about the fact that I came home after six months and you didn’t seem to miss me at all, nothing like the way I missed you. How else would you be pregnant? So who is he? Someone from the Hunters Association?”

Oh… he thought… “Oh my god how could you think- I’d never cheat on you Caleb— EVER how could you even think—”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t have knocked you up in the time I’ve been away.”

A knife cut through you at his words, the accusation, the betrayal of thinking you’d ever be with anyone else. And how vulgar it was… Did your first time mean so little? Was it something he just wanted to get out of the way before he left? A sob escaped you, tears spilled over. “You’re an asshole, Caleb.”

His eyes went wide, “I’m the asshole here?”

“Yes! You’re a fucking asshole! I expected you to be shocked but accusing me of cheating on you? Thinking that night was nothing? That’s low. I can’t believe you!”

“That night means everything to me!”

“Ask me how far along I am! Go on, fucking ask!”

That stopped him short, “you mean?”

“SIX MONTHS!” Standing there while he dropped to his knees was barely satisfying. “God I can’t stand you right now! You must’ve lost your damn mind and all your common sense!”

His silence was angering you further, stomping off to the kitchen for a drink of water and trying to calm down was a better use of your time; crying from this much stress wasn’t good for you.

Once he gathered himself he followed you, “Sweetheart… you’re telling me that night…”

“Finally used your brain, did you?”

“I’m so, god I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” His hand reached out to bring you in for a hug but you denied him.

“Do. Not. Touch me.” His audacity made you seethe. No way were you going to give in so easily no matter how much you desired to be in his embrace and reassured.

“Sweetheart—”

“You’re sleeping on the couch. We can decide what to do later.”

His emotions began to overflow, the guilt crushing him; the ring in his pocket practically burning into his flesh. “Decide what?”

“Decide if I should even let you stay.” Your throat felt tight but you continued to hold your sobs back. “Your dinner is in the oven by the way, it’s your favorite so I suggest you don’t let it burn.”

A few hours rolled around before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore hearing your sniffles. You hadn’t eaten dinner, who knows if you had any water, and no matter how (rightfully) mad you were, you still needed to eat.

Grabbing a few of your favorite snacks with a glass of juice instead of the untouched dinner he put in the fridge was his safest option, unsure if seeing the meal would upset you further.

“Pip squeak? I know you’re awake.” Crouching by your side of the bed and setting the snacks on the nightstand, “please talk to me?”

“Go away.”

“You know I can’t do that, you have to eat something.”

You poked your head from the blanket, “oh so you care now that you know it’s yours?”

The jab was deserved but it still earned a wince. “I’d still care even if they weren’t.”

“How noble of you. Sticking around to raise a kid that’s not yours before I even have a ring.”

“Who said I didn’t have a ring?” This time you accepted the comfort of his hand brushing your hair behind your ear and gently cupping your cheek.

Curiosity was a bitch, but you weren’t ready to forgive him yet. “You were really mean.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. I can’t imagine you being with anyone else but I didn’t expect to come home to a family either— and I’m beyond happy to be a dad. It’s not an excuse though, never okay to talk to you like that.”

A few leftover sniffles came before he pulled a tissue from the box on your nightstand, opting to dry your tears himself. “Blow,” He said, holding the tissue to help you blow your nose; then offering you the straw of the juice so you could hydrate.

“I missed you so much, I thought you’d still be happy to see me.”

“I’m over the moon, actually. But I hurt my girl, gotta make things right. Think you can forgive me? I’ll earn it forever.”

“Caleb if you ever, I mean ever, speak to me like that again I won’t hesitate to let you talk to the front door. You’ll be out.”

“I’ll cut my tongue out myself.”

“So dramatic as always.” You rolled your eyes, “you mentioned a ring?”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “there’s my girl. You sure you still want it? Or should I earn it first?” He dug into his pants pocket to show you anyway.

“It wouldn’t hurt your efforts.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle fully before presenting the velvet box to you, “I’m pretty close to the ground but if you sit up for me I’ll get on one knee.”

Sitting up to stretch was good for your back anyway, “I think I’ve waited long enough.”

The velvet box opened and your jaw dropped, “picked it out in Skyhaven. Gideon and I helped the elderly owner of a small shop with some boxes he was struggling with in front of his door. Knew it was perfect right away, gorgeous and one of a kind like you.”

“You’re ridiculous, but I love it.” He slid it on your finger and sealed it with a kiss, and you fell into his arms like you’ve wanted to for the last six months.

Pulling away after many minutes of hugs, ‘I love you’s’ and kisses wasn’t welcomed by you. “Now, how ‘bout some dinner? I don’t think snacks are enough, they were backup. Gotta keep you healthy.”

“Did you like it?”

You were pulled to your feet and carried out of the room. “Didn’t eat without you, sweetheart. Having dinner without you and the baby felt empty.”

“Good. You can reheat it then.” You waited for the perfect moment to drop your bombshell, which happened to be when he was carrying a full glass pitcher of water for the table. “We’re having a daughter, by the way.”

The pitcher fell so fast his evol barely managed to catch it before glass hit the ground. It left you feeling smug.

You couldn’t help but cackle at his shocked spluttering, “A WHAT?”

I’m so flattered, I’ve never had so many people interested or had a taglist this long: @pixelcafe-network @kentochronicles @sashisuslover @lunia-likes-pomegranet @elli4ever @mysssticc @kaemaybae @kamisatoaiko @midiplier @jamseashell @llamabois @boba14 @crimsonspring @angrychinchillanoises @ali-shiii @kazbae95 @ifistoptherain @c-I-stinnett @nephelesthoughts @etherealzi @jjoppees @keithkoganeirl

Click here to be added to the taglist for part 2

All divider credits to me @thecutestgrotto

[bunny-jpeg]

bear den

bear!john price

cw: pwp/smut, hybrid!au, bunny!reader, bear!price, scenting, breeding, biting, headlock, doggy style, dirty talk, reverse cowgirl

bunny says and you'll never catch me alive!

edit: part two

to be with a bear was something interesting. especially one as much of a lover as price. oh price was just perfect all over. those blue eyes that made you feel protected and warm. that strong grip of his as he bullied his cock into you. he was a strong, with a bit of softness to him and hairy all over. he loved tugging on your little bunny ears while he slammed his cock into your sweet pussy.

the first time you met him. it was quite scary. the dead of winter deep within the woods you called home. you managed to get your way into the warmth of his cabin/den. but your mother told you to never enter the den of a bear. what you soon saw was the lumbering form of bear hybrid.

"what are you doin' here?" he grumbled. his voice heavy was sleep. he was in hibernation after all. but his cock was hard in his sweat pants. he yawned, "if you're gonna make yourself at home. it's gonna cost ya."

the curious bunny gave head to the hairy bear. a tale as old as time. but the notion of bunny cunt seemed to entice the bear and he grabbed you by the ears and dragged you back into his den. the smell of bear was a lot for you, the dominate scent even made you iron resolve crumble. the wetness in your worn panties.

'this'll do." he grumbled as he tossed you on the bed. he got you under the covers. tore off your meager clothes and fucked your bunny hole half asleep. you on the other hand were wide awake. the breath taken out of you. he got through two rounds before his sleepiness took over and he went back to sleep.

he kept you after that, he told you a little bunny like you needed to be protected. who knew what was out there, in the deep darkness of the forest. so you spent the following seasons with him.

you became his lover, he even planted a carrot garden for you when the snow melted. oh he loved his bunny. he loved to tug on your cotton tail or take you by the face to look at him while he had you pressed up against the side of the cabin and your back bent.

but when winter came, he made sure his bunny was taken care of while he was asleep. bunnies could hibernate if they felt safe enough, but you wouldn't be dead to the world if you did.

but in all fairness, the smell of bunny in his cabin didn't keep him asleep for long. you woke up in the morning, snow was pressed up against the window. but the sun shined in.

the smell of price in your bedroom was overwhelming. the room was small, but the big was large. but price's hairy body still made you feel small on the bed. so the smell of the bear hung heavy. the bed had every blanket, pillow, sweater, stuffed animals, anything else he could find to make his nest. the final piece was you. where he tucked you in and snuggled you until he eventually dozed off.

you had been asleep for over a day now, you looked over and saw him sound asleep. you reached for him and kissed him on the nose. his arm was heavy over you. you shifted in your spot and got out from under him.

but you couldn't get out of bed. as he grabbed you by the tail. "where ya goin', love.' he said with sleep heavy in his voice, "i didn't tell ya you could leave." then you were dragged back into bed with a 'hmfph'.

he snuggled you back into his arms, "you don't have my smell on ya." he grumbled as he rubbed his face up against your bare chest. there was no point in having clothes on while in the nest. you were under so many layers you were already warm enough.

"john!" you squeaked as his tongue came out and started to lick across your pulse, "it's only us in the entire area. plus it's only to the kitchen."

"no." he said, he ran his teeth across your pulse, "gotta smell like me." you made a noise as he, in tired trance, got you on your hands and knees. the weight of the blankets and his larger body kept you pinned to the soft mattress.

"john!" you whined, "c'mon!"

he grumbled something. his cock slid up and down your pussy as he tried to push it into you. you arched your back in anticipation. poor price, his head was full of sleepy cotton. he relied on instinct and right now it was directing him to breed his little nest mate.

you moaned, to have your face buried in the pillow. that reeked of your lover only made you wet between your legs. as if the leftover cum from your lover wasn't enough lube for his impressive size. he was big all over. so different from your tiny bunny self, no wondered he wanted to protect you.

and breed you.

your heart raced as he finally got his cock into you. he sank into your sweet cunt. he groaned as he leaned over you and put his arm around your neck and bent your back. his thrusts were sloppy, there was no rhyme or reason, only what felt good.

"you feel so good, love.' he grumbled, "always so perfect for me." his gaze was unfocused, his voice sleepy and slurred, "a good little bunny for me. with your cotton tail and those ears. my girl though, right? all mine? not gonna have ya run off with a coyote or somethin'. keep ya home, keep ya full." he gave you a lazy smile as our eyes met. he leaned in and licked across your cheek. his bear ears twitched at the taste of your soft skin against his rough tongue.

your core throbbed, the entire feeling. the coziness of your den that you shared with price left you feel soft and warm. you were comfortable and safe, so why not let price breed you? you were already so soft and warm, let your brain let it go and accept him.

he held you close to him, bent to his liking to have the best angle of your pussy. his broad paws were all over you, he held your throat and around your middle as he thrusted up into you.

"john." you whimpered, your focus was hazy and your thoughts dripped away like melted snow. the sun shined thought the window of your den, it bathed you in a bright glow.

"i know. i know." he purred, he blinked to get a little more awake, "so small. i could crush ya easily. poor little bunny got caught up with a big bad bear. now she sharin' a nest with him and letting him bully her sweet little cunny."

his words made your brain mushy.

the bed creaked under your love making, he still held you like a toy for his pleasure. he lazily made out with you as he moved you up and down his cock. he groaned, his lips close against yours, "my girl. my little bunny. i love the feeling of ya around me."

you made small noises and hearty pants as the movements continued. as he kept ramming against your sweet sex. you were a right fit for him. after all these months you still were so good for him.

he watched your focus come in and out. your tongue stuck a little out of your mouth. the little bunny had her brains fucked out, oh no! he let go of you. his hands on you as he maneuvered your once more and got you into a reverse cowgirl. the blankets were kicked to the bottom of the bed.

he was propped up against the headboard and kept you in his lap. his cock buried into your slick pussy. he held onto your hips and bounced you on his cock. he wished he could see your breasts bounce with every thrust, but to watch the sweat drip down your back.

your nest got heated, your scent bled a little bit into the air of the room. it was musky and comforting. to be fucked by a bear was something unlike anything you could describe. he just fit you so right.

"good girl."

"john."

"i know, i know." he groaned. the rush of pleasure raced through his body as it did yours. he felt the same euphoric of having his cock buried into his sweet mate. he made sure that his scent was all over you, he was certain it would stick this time.

you leaned forward and held onto the covers that were between his legs. he watched how your pussy swallowed up his cock with each movements of your hips. he licked his lips as he moved your faster.

he watched your cotton-tail twitch, it almost made him cum at that moment. he continued to move your hips, the rush of climax almost washed over him.

the two of you made love like animals in your nest that he had built for you. to protect you. his cock throbbed in your cunt and with a few more thrusts he finished inside of you.

"ah!" you whined as you arched your back. you came as well and clutched onto the sheets. your toes curled and you felt your heart racing.

price felt content as he smothered you in his pecs. they were softer and hairy. he had gotten a little thicker for the winter. you made a soft noise as you were buried in them.

"john."

"i know bunny, i got ya. now sh, time to go back to sleep." he purred as he grabbed the blankets with one hand but kept you to him with the other. he buried you back under the nest of blankets.

yeah, that sounded like a great idea. you weren't even too sure if you could walk if you got up. so with the glow of the morning sun peeking through your window, you fell back asleep with your face in your mate's chest.

-

it was spring now. but you and your bear mate have been slow to wake up for it. price still was in a tired mindset, constantly cuddled up to your partially swollen belly. you were only four months, but price still adored how you carried his cub.

he made a gruff noise and cuddled up with your middle further. his facial hair which had grown over hibernation brushed up against your exposed middle. such a cute little bunny and her adoring mate.

you ran your fingers through your hair as you heard the birds chirp outside and the sound of melting snow. next winter it would be you, price and your little cub all sharing a nest to sleep soundly through the winter <3

xoxo,

bunny

part two <3

[tttabii]

──심재윤 BREWED TENSION ; JAKE SIM

pairing.ᐟ ceo! jake x coffee shop owner! reader word count: 10.2k ; mentions of vaping for reader), choi soobin from txt, sunoo, and winter from aespa

YOU AND JAKE SIM HAD KNOWN EACH OTHER since high school—unfortunately. He was the guy everyone wanted: born into wealth, already set to inherit his father's conglomerate, effortlessly charming, and untouchably arrogant.

You were... not that.

Middle-class, sure, but happy. You had parents who loved you, supported you through every ambition—even the bold one of opening your own coffee shop in Seoul.

The two of you wound up studying business at the same university. For Jake it was a stepping stone, another silky tile, in his future diamond-studded life. For you, it was everything. You needed the knowledge, the experience. You wanted to carve out a life for yourself and you did.

But while you were at school, Jake never liked you. He never gave you a proper reason—but you could feel it every side-eye he shot at you when you passed in the hall. Whenever you made the effort to say hello, or offer him a sample of the new coffee blend you'd been working on in baking club, he acted like you simply didn't exist.

So you gave up.  

But that didn't stop you from working. With help from your parents along with a lot of passion, you'd opened your very own café in Seoul, right in the middle of downtown.

It was a little pocket of coziness, with clean wooden styling, relaxing jazz music, and the smell of coffee drifting out from the café out every morning.

Winter, your high school best friend, worked part-time there too. Plus, so did Sunoo, your own personal ray of sunshine who always made you laugh even when you were stressing out. You had all grown up together, and now you were creating something that was real. Something that was yours.

The café had quickly gained a good reputation. Word had spread through recommendation and many unique blends of coffee and buttery pastries were helped along by a few Instagram stories by both Winter and Sunoo who were both becoming social media stars themselves.

Then one morning, your life changed. Jake Sim, wearing a sharp black suit and pressed coat, was striding down the sidewalk with a phone in his hand. He sounded cold, clipped, and lethal. "If you can't handle the Tokyo merger, then I'm getting rid of you. I can't have incompetence like you slowing us down." 

A pause. Silence. Then:

"You're fired."

With a sigh, he ended the phone call and ran a hand through his hair. That's when his eyes went across the street. There, tucked away between two boutiques, sat a new café. It looked rustic and charming, with ample light coming from within, with sections of wooden framed windows that had nicely crafted signs, possibly some kind of reclaimed wood or beautiful quality wood, was hard to tell from this distance.

He needed caffeine. Bad.

He walked in without thinking, and the little song from a ringing bell above the door rang soft behind him. He stood staring down at his phone until he looked up and mumbled, "black coffee. no sugar."

Sunoo's eyes widened the second he registered who had walked in. A smirk appeared on his lips, and he turned to you; you were standing behind the counter talking to him.

"Y/n," he said in a sing-song voice. "Look who stupidly crawled in for a cup."

You blinked. "What? "

Then you saw him. Jake Sim. Still as infuriatingly smug and impeccably dressed.He froze the second he realized who was standing there, his mouth opened as if he had just been punched, shocked, and he needed a minute to catch his thoughts.

Sunoo giggled and lightly nudged you closer to the register. "Go on. He's your customer."

Your heart jumped a little, but not from excitement. From the irony. The man who once scoffed at your coffee was now standing in your shop, asking for a cup. You cleared your throat and walked up to the counter.

"Black coffee, no sugar?" you asked, trying not to smirk.

Jake raised an eyebrow at you, finally giving you a full look. For a moment, he said nothing. His eyes flicked over the place—the décor, the long line forming behind him, the glass display filled with pastries. Then, back to you.

"You really opened a coffee shop."

You smiled, cool and calm. "I really did."

Jake had no clever response. How rare of him...

As you gave Jake his drink, your fingers teasingly brushed against his. He flinched not from physical discomfort, but the disorienting warmth that sent a jolt through him. You smiled politely, and wiped your hands on your apron as you tilted your head to finally study him properly.

He was every ounce the CEO—tailored suit, a Rolex creeping out of his cuff, the familiar air of authority that surrounded him like tacky cologne. And you could see Winter and Sunoo had picked up on it too, whispering to each other and trying (and failing) to be subtle about it from the side.

"So," you said tapping the countertop, "I hope you enjoyed my coffee."

Jake glanced down at the cup, the scent curling up beautifully and then flicked his gaze up to yours. "It's nice."

You smirked with a small laugh escaping. "I know. People always end up coming crawling back."

His brows flickered. "Cocky much?"

You giggled quietly. "You really should have tasted my baking and coffee back in the day but I guess you were busy... being a CEO?"

Jake made a light scoff while letting his gaze linger on you longer than he intended. "Yeah..." 

He came to an abrupt stop, pulled from his thoughts about the warm, inviting café surrounding him. The glow from the glass display showed golden brown pastries—flaky croissants, chocolate chip scones, and cinnamon rolls that looked sinful.

The digital menu board flickered behind you while it cycled through the specials, featuring names he never would have thought to see next to the word "famous," in his wildest dreams.

It wasn't just a café. It was your café. And he was surprised at how, annoyed, but impressed he felt about this fact.

The bell above the door rang once more. A tall guy walked inside, determined and almost confident. You perked up as soon as he walked through the door, "Dark mocha with whipped cream and a cookie again?" you asked playfully.

The guy laughed as he combed his hand through his hair, "Cancel the cookie and switch that to a sandwich. I'm pretending to be healthy this week."

Jake's eyes were locked on the new guy. He recognized him right away. Choi Soobin. CEO of TXT Corporations.

He was one of the only other guys he had verbally challenged as many as so many times during shareholder meetings.Soobin stood casually by the counter, scrolled through his phone, while he talked to you like old friends. His body language told Jake he was at ease. Jake didn't like that. 

He took a long sip of his black coffee.

Sunoo, who was replenishing napkins nearby, had witnessed everything. He turned to Jake and smirked knowingly before resuming "work."When Jake and Soobin's eyes finally met, both men grimaced and produced a smile.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Soobin said smoothly, eyebrow raised, "I thought you were more into those fancy cafes with gold-leaf lattes."

Jake chuckled, slow and dry. "And I didn't think you'd know what real coffee was."

You slid Soobin's sandwich over the counter just as he snorted. "I guess we both like surprises."

As the tension grew thicker, you rolled your eyes. Men."Boys, play nice. I'm not a babysitter today," you said brightly, handing Soobin his mocha.

Jake couldn't help but to watch as you gave Soobin a grin he knew well—a face you'd give him in university that he pretended not to see then.Something tweaked in his gut.You were no longer the girl trying to get him to try a caramel macchiato in the hallway, you were the woman everyone—powerful men were drawn to.

The woman who built something up from nothing. And to add insult to injury. You were glowing.

Without him.

The next day came around, near the lunch rush, and you were elbow-deep in flour, kneading dough for a fresh batch of scones when the unmistakable ding of the bell above the café door chimed again. You looked up from the counter, brushing flour off your hands on your apron. ||

And there he was—Jake Sim, business mogul, CEO of Sim Corp, and apparently, a secret admirer of cinnamon rolls. You quickly washed your hands, grinned, and called back over your shoulder, "Back for more, huh?"

Jake didn't answer at first, just strolled over to the counter, sharp in another perfectly pressed suit, removing his sunglasses with one hand and looking at the entire pastry display. "Cinnamon roll," he said flatly. "And some black coffee."

You raised an eyebrow, teasing, "You like cinnamon rolls?" 

Jake merely rolled his eyes at you. Another no answer. You sighed with amusement before taking one of the warm cinnamon rolls from the tray and inserting it into the pastel blue box you designed with your logo on top.

You quickly wrote in cursive "Jake" on the box, and, like with all the orders for your favorite regulars, you slid in a tiny mint candy, then sealed the bag.

He noticed. He didn't say anything about it.

As you delivered the bag on the counter, your hands brushed against each other again. "Don't work too hard," you said softly; the same light hearted cheerfulness you exhibited whenever Soobin would stop by in between long workdays.

Jake blinked at you several times, something clearly behind the tone registered, and perhaps—perhaps—made something in his core tighten, but he didn't show it. He grabbed the bag, murmuring a quick, "Thanks," before he turned.

The bell rang once more. "Y/n!" Soobin called out with warmth you could hear all the way in the back, waltzing in, tousled hair from the wind, looking casual in a pale grey coat and denim. You smiled the biggest, "Hey! Sandwich and iced americano?"

"You know me too well." He laughed, walking towards you just when Jake had been ready to leave in which they barely brushed shoulders. Instant tension ignited. Jake stopped again briefly glaring into Soobin's eyes.

And Soobin just smiles—so smugly charming. "Didn't expect to see you again." He said cooly. "You thinking of investing in cupcake stocks or something?"

Jake scanned Soobin from head-to-toe. "Just getting coffee. Not that it matters to you," he said sharply. 

Soobin's smile grew as he looked at you. "You know, Jake's not even that scary. He acts all tough and scary, but... he's just a high school kid with a grudge."

Jake's jaw tightened. You blinked at Soobin. "Stop."

Winter and Sunoo must have come up from the kitchen while all of this was going on. They had their heads together looking out from the side of the doorway, eyes wide, clearly sensing the impending doom.

"Oh, we smell tea," Winter whispered to Sunoo, who nodded his head, shuttering with excitement. As you finished packing Soobin's sandwich, you could still feel Jake looking at you. He began to back away with his pastry bag in hand, and while his face was unreadable, his jaw was still clenched.

You happily slipped Soobin his order, but before the door closed behind Jake, you briefly relived the sharp look he shot you. You had no idea what it all meant. You just knew one thing—he would be back.

The week faded into an easy rhythm. Jake was coming by more frequently—sometimes before the café even opened, leaning against the door frame in those crisp suits, coat slung over one arm, just watching you quietly water the front flowers or sip your tea while preparing pastries for the day.

At some point, you just unlocked the door for him and said nothing. You would catch his eye and smile, "The tea's on the counter."

You don't think he ever said thank you. But you do know he always drank it all. You would switch up the speaker playlist every morning, play soft indie, maybe an old jazz record—Jake never requested songs, but one time he hummed along to a song that made you feel like your heart stopped for a full second.

He still barely spoke, but you had noticed him looking at you when you thought he wasn't looking—when you were writing menu specials in chalk, fixing your messy apron bow, or trying out new cookie decorations with Sunoo and Winter. 

But then there was Soobin.

Every lunch, he'd drop by with that annoyingly perfect timing, that perfect smile, and say something stupidly charming that made you giggle. Jake never said anything, but the way he flipped the pages of his book harder than necessary? Yeah—you noticed.

Then came the rare afternoon you actually sat across from him at his table, sandwich in the middle, eyeing the new book stacked on his table. "Still working? Don't you ever get a day off?"

Jake closed the book slowly. His eyes connected with yours—cold, unreadable, and sharp—as if they pierced through you.

You shivered.

"Don't you ever mind your own business?" he said, deadpan.

You gasped, making clear sounds of distress, while chewing. "Rude much! I literally give you free tea, every day!"

He shook his head, and before he knew it, a low laugh escaped from him.

You blinked. "Did the Jake Sim just laugh? In front of me?"

His expression snapped back. "No."

"Oh, come on!" you whined with a mouthful of bread, pointing your sandwich at him.

The next day was a weekend.

You had no idea whether he was going to show up—he had been there every morning and sometimes came back at lunchtime—evening was different; the place was now quiet and warm lights illuminated the pastries and plants with a golden glow. You were wiping down the counter top when the bell jangled-but it wasn't your regulars.

A guy walked in, hoodie up, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and messy bed hair like he had just woken up. Trailing beside him on a leash was a golden retriever, tail wagging excitedly as it yanked him inside.

It was someone... different.

Well—kind of.

You eyes widened.

Jake.

Or, at least, what looked like a softer version of him—no suit, no sharp lines, just... sleepy hoodie Jake being dragged inside by a happy dog.

You tried not to laugh, but failed completely.

"Sunoo, cover the register," you giggled, tossing your rag aside and hurrying out the front. The dog was already sniffing around your flowers, nose buried in lavender pots as you squatted down to pet it.

"You have a dog," you grinned as you scratched behind its ears. "Seems relevant. Kind of figured you were a dog person. You definitely give off golden retriever vibes, just underneath that professional hot CEO vibe."

Jake looked down at you, blinking. You were now in a cardigan, with your hair thrown up quickly, and your cheeks still flushed from the sunset. You didn't even know what you just said.

"I'm hot?" He asked incredulously as his lips turned upwards, his hoodie hang loosely from his body as he pulled on the leash.

You froze.Your brain stuttered like a car stuck in traffic. You stared up at him, still crouched beside the flower pot. "W-What— I—"

He cocked his head like he was the king of the world, smug now. You could feel your face heat up. "I meant—hot like you're probably sweating under all those suits," you spluttered as you quickly stood up. "Like overheated. You know, because you wear suits."

The dog barked. Jake smirked.

Sunoo poked his head out of the french door to the café and whispered to Winter, "Did she just call him hot—?"

"She did." Winter whispered back, eyes wide.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

Monday morning.

The world was still dark, the streets a pale blue chill as even the sun was barely above the rooftops. The café wasn't open yet—but he was there.You didn't even blink when you saw Jake through the window, standing in his usual clean-cut outfit, expensive blazer over a cream dress shirt.

His hands were deep in his pockets. You just unlocked the door and slid him a sleepy smile."You could have knocked," you said.

"You would have let me in," he said flatly.

You rolled your eyes. But you smiled anyway.

He followed you silently inside, walking toward his usual corner—but then he stopped because you were crouched behind the counter still tying your apron over the soft knit sweater you had pulled on, hair still a little tousled. You were working on your pastry dough for a new batch.

The smell of vanilla and cherry tea was wafting.Jake found himself standing just at the edge of the baking station, staring too closely. You hadn't noticed him at first, the flour streaked on your cheekbone while you made shapes in the dough.

He said nothing—he just stared, completely captivated.

You finally looked up. "...Are you seriously watching me bake?"

"You said no coffee this early," he muttered, eyes trailing over your hands.

"Are you saying you've come for a flour facial instead?" you joked, smirking at him playfully.

But just as you went to grab the bowl, your elbow gently bumped the counter edge—and flour poofed in an explosion of mist right onto his expensive shirt and jacket.

Your eyes went wide. "Oh my god—!"

His expression didn't change. You hurried forward smearing flour all over your fingers, and tried to wipe it off but that just made it worse. "I'm so sorry, I forgot to close the—your shirt was so expensive and your—"

"It's fine," he said quietly.

That shut you up.

You slowly looked up at him . You were kind of confused. You remembered it well—back in school someone had tripped, and dumped coffee all over his crisp, white polo and denim jacket. He was livid—cold glare and the silent treatment and was ruthlessly it.

But now? Jake Sim was standing here with flour on his jacket, and shirt and hair, and he looked... calm. Then suddenly you felt his fingers brush your cheek softly.

Your breath hitched. 

He wiped the flour smudge away with his thumb, his eyes resting softly on the spot—then slowly drifting to meet yours. You just stared up at him, speechless. His eyes were gentle, deep brown, as they traced the lines of your face like he was memorizing every detail. The gentle curve of his lips.

The trace of cherry tea wafting from your body.

You blinked, but he was already stepping back, his usual cold persona coming back together around him as he exited the station. He sat back down with his book, flour still covering the back of his collar.

Later that day, Jake walked into the office a few hours late. His blazer still had some faint, white stain on the shoulder. His dark hair had some flour in it as well. "...Boss, what happened to your shirt?"

"Did you have a baking war?"

"Wait—do you smell that? Is that cherry perfume?" Jake ignored all of them. He casually brushed the flour off his sleeve.

He simply replied, "Mind your work," and headed to his office, a small smirk creeping up.

Back at the café. Lunch time.  

You were more tired than usual. With Sunoo off, you were doing everything yourself, and your energy was running low. Even Soobin noticed.

"Are you okay?" he asked lightly, fingertips grazing yours as he took the drink from you.

You nodded, a gentle smile gracing your lips. "Mhm, just a long day."

He cocked his head, eyes narrowing. "You sure? You seem... off. Or could it be boy trouble? Or, maybe..." he grinned, "you're just flustered because of me?"

You snorted softly, half-hearted. "None of the above."

"Then what is it?"

You looked up at him, sleepy smile on your face. "I'm just... tired, Soobin. That's all."

He took the receipt from your hand, looking at you thoughtfully. Maybe he still thought there was something more to it; maybe he thought he was figuring out how you felt.

But then—

The bell above the door jingled.

You looked up and everything about you seemed to change. Your whole face brightened like someone flipped a switch flipping on your inner light.

"Jake!!"

He was halfway through faking looking at his phone when your voice sliced through it like a magnet. He looked up, immediately connecting eyes with yours, pulse racing unexpectedly.

Soobin's gaze flicked to you, then to Jake, and back to you.

Oh.

Oh.

Jake went to sit at his usual table, still wearing the blazer that was now starting to wrinkle a little and a few bright specks of flour scattered in his hair. You chuckled a little as you walked towards him with a wet cloth.

"Ohhh, you're still a mess," you playfully chided. "Come here, I'll wipe off the flour or your hair is going to be foamed a baked good."

He looked up just in time to catch your amused grin before you reached out and gently ran your fingers through his hair, ruffling the strands to shake off the flour. His bangs fell slightly over his forehead, softening his usually sharp appearance.

You were about ready to pull your hand back when Jake caught your wrist in his, though not harsh, just firm enough to stop you. 

"You're making a mess," Jake said with playful teasing in his low voice, looking at your hand and then your face.  

"Oops," you muttered, a clearly disingenuous apology. You took a step back, wiped your hand on your apron, and walked behind the counter and started preparing his tea order. 

Jake was still watching you—it was subtle, but not subtle enough for Soobin not to notice. The moment Jake glanced down at his phone again, Soobin walked over to him with a forced casualness, though his jaw was noticeably tense.

"So... you and her?" Soobin asked, arms crossed.

Jake slowly raised his eyes, the brow furrowed. "What about it?"

Soobin leaned in a little more and spoke softly. "She lit up like a light bulb the minute she saw you. Don't you see that?"

Jake blinked once. "Are you jealous?"

Before Soobin could answer you came near with Jake's tea, chopping up the air with your deadpan voice. "You two can you not?"

You placed the cup in front of Jake. "What is this? A K-drama or something?"

You turned to go back to the counter, completely unbothered with the odd standoff.

Soobin scoffed under his breath, so quiet it was just loud enough for Jake to hear. "You wish."

Jake sipped his tea, leaned back in his chair and said just loud enough, "She likes dramas... but always chooses the bad boy."

It started innocently—Jake had given you his number after that flour-dusted morning in the café, claiming it was "just in case he had another craving for your muffins." But since then, it became a nightly thing.

You would text him after the shop closed, about anything and everything. Sometimes it was a rant about a customer. Sometimes it was pictures of your terrible latte art.

And then there was that one night. It was past midnight when you called. Jake had been plucking his guitar on the couch in his dimly lit penthouse, and when your name came up on the screen he smiled gently."You bored?" he asked after answering.

"Mmhm," you mumbled. "Whatcha doin?"

"Nothing," he offered feigning. He picked the guitar up again. "Want me to play you something?"

You yawned, now hunkered into your blanket. "Yeah...." 

He began to play softly, finger-gliding over the frets, voice low and mellow. You swayed and began to drift off to sleep, breathing quiet and even, he stopped playing. "Night, sleepyhead," he said softly into the phone before hanging up gently. 

A few days later, he texted you asking if you could bake for his company's private brunch event. "You're the only one I trust for this," he texted.

You had said yes before even thinking twice

The café was closed that day, and your staff helped with the preparation and delivery that day. You had on a simple black dress, soft hair, a pink charm bracelet dangling from your wrist. Not ostentatious—just you.

By the time you arrived at his company building, your arms were full of sweets and drinks, but a tall and broad shouldered bodyguard stood in your way. "I'm his friend," you exclaimed, startled. "I'm delivering the—"

Jake's voice interrupted you from across the lobby. "Let her in."

He strode quickly over to you, breezed past the guard, and before you could reach out, you flicked his sleeve, pulling him towards the display table being prepped nearby.

"I hope they like them..." you murmured, nervously looking at the line of mini tarts and mini cakes, and coffee canisters.

Without saying a word, Jake reached into his wallet, pulled out a thick stack of cash—over 500,000 won. "H-Hey! This is way too much—!"

"No. It's not." He pushed the money into your hand and walked away to direct the decorators with a weird sense of authority about him.

You felt frozen in place, flustered, holding the cash like it was radioactive. Moments later, he turned back and walked toward you again. "Stay for the brunch, yeah? I want everyone to know who made all this."

You blinked. "M-Me?"

"Yes, you."

In the lavish women's bathroom, you stood by the mirror reapplying your lip gloss, the tube clicking softly as voices echoed from the stalls.

"Ugh, he's so fine. Like, can you believe Jake still isn't married?" one girl said dramatically,  

"I know, right?! But don't forget about Soobin... he's a total gentleman." 

"Jake is totally my type. Dark hair, cold vibes, CEO... He probably likes it when girls are bold." 

"Hah, as if.. he needs someone that matches his vibes. Probably needs someone cold and a little sharp like him." 

"Ugh, I would sell my soul if either of them looked at me for more than two seconds."  

You really had to fight back a laugh and finished smoothing your lip gloss on quietly, the girls finally noticing you. They were all staring at you from behind the stalls, their chatter paused.

They looked you up and down... you were unfamiliar and dressed like you belonged, but they noticed the softness you wore that none of them carried themselves with. They also probably thought you were some heiress for some family name they never heard of. 

You gave them a tight-lipped smile and walked out.

The moment you stepped out, you bumped into someone. "Sorry—" you muttered, eyes widening when you saw Soobin.

He stared at you, clearly surprised. "Wait—"

But you'd already moved past him, too nervous to linger. He followed your path with narrowed eyes, noticing the pastry table... your pastries. And suddenly, it all clicked.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

As the gentle clink of plates and soft talking settled into the large brunch hall, Jake stepped onto the little stage with effortless grace. At once, there was silence—he commanded attention without even trying.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he spoke, a calm and steady yet confident voice, "Thank you all for joining us today. It means a lot to see so many familiar faces here together. But before we continue to enjoy the rest of the brunch, there is someone I want to introduce you to."

The spotlight fell on you; or at least that's what it felt like, even without a light. You froze in mid-sip of coffee, almost choking when he said your name.  "She's the owner of a little café that I love. She works hard and is highly talented... she is someone I trust implicitly in moments like these."

A few gasps fluttered through the crowd, and that's when they saw you—the girls from the bathroom. Recognition dawned with horror on their faces. Her? The girl reapplying lip gloss? The one they brushed off as an unfamiliar socialite? A middle-class café girl?

You took slow steps in the direction of the stage and felt your heart pounding, heat rising in your cheeks, and running you hands up and down the sides of your dress, hoping it didn't look cold against your shoes.

When you reached the center, Jake stepped down. A smile melting on his face. He came closer to you, looked into your eyes, reached for your back, and lead you up. His hand was unter your dress; warm and possessive but it wasn't too much. Just that alone made your heart skip.

When you left the stage, the rich clientele stopped the hushed gossiping and started to show admiration. 

"These pastries are divine."

"Where is your shop located?"

"I've never tasted coffee like this before—"

You nodded and thanked them quietly, smiling sheepishly. But the whole time, Jake's hand lingered behind you.

Just hovering. Anchoring.

You were trying so hard not to stutter through shy thank-yous.

Then Soobin watched from a few steps away. He hadn't moved from the spot where you left him. A polite smile rigid on his lips but his eyes—all on you. Even as a few women tried to strike up a conversation, he could feign a nod before bearing little to no anything for the conversations happening in the background.

His eyes followed the way Jake slunk closer to you. "You didn't try this one yet," Jake said suddenly, jolting you from your thoughts as he reached towards the dessert cart and emerged with a tiny strawberry chocolate tart.

"H-huh?"

He held it to your lips and didn't seem worried. "Open."

You felt heat rising to your cheeks as you looked between him and the little tart, then slowly opened your mouth to let him feed it to you. Jake merely smirked, brushing a crumb from your lip with his thumb before he stepped back and pridefully watched you chew.

And in the corner of the room the girls from the bathroom stood frozen. "Wait. Is that... the same girl" one of the girls whispered, voice acute with disbelief. 

"Jake... and Soobin?" the other replied, tone more devastated than surprised.

They looked on as Jake, the stoic CEO with a reputation for keeping things professional, was now smiling like a golden retriever, standing too close to the girl they'd assumed was no one.But then their eyes drifted—past Jake's soft stare—to Soobin.

He was still talking politely with the women around him, ever the gentleman, ever composed. But the slight clench of his jaw, the way his gaze kept flickering to where you stood with Jake—it was unmistakable.

Jealousy.

Undisguised, unvoiced, simmering just below the surface.

He wasn't even hiding it any more.

Shit, had they really jinxed it?

Because somehow—you were the girl who'd unknowingly caught the attention of the two most unattainable men in the room. And now, the most perilous aspect of you... was the fact that you were completely oblivious to it.

────୨ৎ────

Finally, some time to yourself.

Jake had gotten lost in a flock of executives, and you had been left behind next to the fancy pastry cart. Standing there, without Jake smoothly steering the flow of conversation, made you feel fidgety—what were you supposed to do?

You shifted your weight, testing out a vanilla cream tart you'd made earlier. It was light, sweet—almost airy—but a bit of the cream clung to the corner of your lip. It was light, sweet—almost air-like—but some of the cream remained on the corner of your lip.

You didn't notice. But Jake did.  

From across the room, in mid-conversation, his eyes narrowed just slightly before his feet instinctively moved toward you. You didn't even see him coming—until his thumb brushed your lower lip with casual precision, wiping the cream gently and popping it into his mouth.

"Messy," he said nonchalantly, his voice low and warm, tongue grazing the inside of his cheek as he tasted the cream.

Your breath hitched, body stiffening. "W-what was that for?"

He didn't answer, only smiled before stepping aside to grab a napkin like nothing happened.

Across the room, Soobin's jaw clenched.

Hard.

His knuckles around his glass went white as he watched the exchange—Jake, bold and unbothered, touching you without hesitation. It wasn't even flirtation. It was instinct. He realized then: Jake didn't hesitate when he wanted something. Even if Jake himself didn't know what he wanted yet... his body always acted first.

Soobin stared as you fidgeted, fingers grazing your lips. Jake hadn't even looked back at you, and still, your ears turned pink.

Jake's own thoughts flickered darkly.

There's no way I like her. No. Definitely not..

But the way you glowed in a room full of harsh lights and sharp eyes? The way your gaze always sought his first when you felt lost?

And those girls—giving you dirty looks like they owned the air around you. Jake didn't like that.

Only I get to be cold to her, he thought.

Because you still gave him your attention even when he didn't deserve it. And somehow, deep down, he knew you understood him better than most.

The following week, Soobin had tried.He really tried.Every chance he got, he found ways to stay near you, hoping you'd choose him this time. He lingered by the counter, walked beside you when you stepped outside, offered to help carry deliveries.

"I can't today," you said, watering the flowers with such concentration. "I have to make sure the roses don't droop."

And then you'd look up, smile lit up when Jake walked out with his cup of tea, as if Soobin didn't even exist.For a while, Jake had taken to sitting outside the café with you, one hand resting lazily on the cup, while you stood beside him lightly dragging your finger around the petals of a blooming pot.

The sunlight framed your figure softly as you turned toward Jake, laughing at something he mumbled under his breath.

Sunoo had been watching it all happen with exasperation, from inside the café, half-heartedly folding his arms as he let out a defeated sigh. "There's no use," he complained.

Winter agreed with a nod beside him, her lips squeezed together tight. "She won't even glance over at Soobin anymore even. We've known her longer than he has. It's over."

Soobin stood just outside earshot, his shoulders rigid, trying to keep a straight face."Oh, watch me," he grumbled, voice tight with frustration. "I'll get her. Just wait."

Winter rolled her eyes. "Keep dreaming. Can't you see the way they look at each other? Even customers ask about them now."

Sunoo hummed in agreement. "It's the tension. It's always there. Like they're one move away from crashing into each other."

And as Jake took another sip of tea, his eyes never left yours—content, but unreadable—while you smiled back, oblivious to how everything around you was starting to burn with envy.

────୨ৎ────

It started when Soobin tried to corner you again—his voice a little too casual, but his words bitter like over-brewed coffee. "You know Jake left with that girl after the banquet, right? The one in the red dress?" he said, eyes flicking to yours with fake sympathy. You tilted your head slightly, processing the claim.

You never said anything out loud, never admitted that you liked Jake. But something tight settled in your chest, a subtle pang of jealousy curling deep in your stomach.

The bell above the door jingled softly, interrupting your thoughts. Jake entered in casual wear—it was the weekend, after all—his hair tousled like he'd run his hands through it a few times too many. Beside him trotted his dog, Layla, her tail wagging as she pulled slightly on her leash. He was chatting with Sunoo outside, hesitant and awkward, until Sunoo's eyes lit up, and he rushed inside.

"Take the day off," Sunoo announced, waving his arms dramatically. "Boss or not, you're done for the day. Jake wants to hang out. Or actually—he's too shy to ask. Layla kind of insisted on coming here again. She really likes you." His grin was playful but knowing.

Behind him, Jake avoided eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck as Layla happily sniffed around the café entrance.

Soobin clenched his jaw at the news, his fingers curling around the counter. "You sure he's not just messing with you?" he muttered under his breath.

Winter rolled her eyes from where she was wiping down a table. "Jake Sim? The guy who does nothing but take business courses? The kid who talks about physics formulas like they're love poetry? If anything, he's being messed with—he's practically soft for her."

Your cheeks were on fire at her words, the heat creeping across your skin.

If Jake had left with another girl that night, why was he here now? And why was he so flustered even asking if you'd spend time with him?

Silently, you took off your apron and grabbed your bag. You waved goodbye to everyone—everyone except Soobin—and walked outside into the city breeze. Jake looked up as you joined him, arms crossed trying to act casual but failing miserable as he tugged gingerly on Layla's leash.

"You, um... wanna walk with us?" he asked, avoiding your gaze while pretending to be interested in his dog. "She's been dragging me out here all week, so I figured may as well let her have her way." 

You nodded, and the two of you strolled through the city, Layla leading the way. You didn't wear anything fancy—just a soft top and jeans—but somehow, Jake kept stealing glances like you were glowing. You didn't think you were anything special. You'd always felt... average. But Jake didn't see you that way.

He liked the quiet confidence, the little things. Your bare face, your laugh. Your eyes, definitely your eyes. And your lips, though he didn't let himself think about that too long.

Eventually, you both settled onto a bench underneath a shady tree. Layla fell asleep beside you, the leash still wrapped around Jake's wrist while he held two cups of smoothies, handing you one with a slight grin.

You took it, breaking the silence. "So....you know..Soobin said you left with a girl after the banquet."

Jake blinked at you, confused. "I didn't," he said plainly, his eyebrows furrowing.

You let out a soft exhale, relief washing over your chest. The corners of your mouth lifted slightly. "Were you...jealous?" he asked, intently observing you.

You paused for a beat too long. "No..." you replied hurriedly, taking the smoothie from his hand and feigning that the weather suddenly turned so hot you couldn't stand to sit still.

You stood, cheeks burning, and began to walk again, Layla perked up to follow. Jake chuckled under his breath, quickly catching up. "You know, I was thinking about this physics theory dilemma earlier..."

And like that, he regained his comfort giving you his all, as he always did when he was calm and safe, he rambled on and on about numbers and theories you could hardly follow with his hands flinging about in amusement. 

You listened quietly before mumbling, "You know I don't understand a single thing you're saying, right?" Your tone was dry but fond.

He grinned, eyes crinkling. "I know," he replied, nudging you lightly. "But you still listen. That's kinda why I like talking to you."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you said nothing. Just sipped your smoothie as the three of you walked—Jake, you, and Layla, who somehow seemed to know she had just played cupid.

It was supposed to be just a fun night out with Winter, Sunoo and a couple of your close friends, gathered under flashing lights and loud music. It had been a minute since you'd had alcohol and you'd forgotten how much you liked the way it burned down your throat, sharp and numbing. With every drink nothing seemed so serious; life was a little blurrier, a little lighter, a little more easily forgotten.

 At some point someone handed you a vape, and none of them even knew you had it. But there it was in your fingers again, muscle memory, and you were exhaling soft clouds of iced peach into the fogged club air between drinks. It was messy, an unholy mix, but at that point you didn't give a damn.

You just wanted to feel nothing for once, lose yourself until your mind couldn't catch up with your body anymore. That was your worst tendency—and sadly, your friends have seen this side of you before. Jake hadn't. Not yet. 

"She's gone," Winter said, shaking her head as you slumped into the booth seat, giggling uncontrollably at something Sunoo didn't even remember saying.

You were slurring, cheeks flushed, and whining Jake's name like a prayer, breathy and broken between puffs of vapor and sips of some neon-colored cocktail.

Sunoo sighed and pulled out his phone. He walked a few steps away from the table and hit Jake's number, rubbing his temple as the line rang.

Jake picked up fast. "Yo?"

"You might need to come get a certain someone," Sunoo mumbled, already knowing how Jake would react.

Jake blinked. "Is that Y/n in the background?" he asked, voice tightening at the familiar sound of your name being moaned like a confession.

"Yeah. And seriously... you may not enjoy what you see," Sunoo added earnestly. "So I'd suggest you hurry and come get her, and take her back to your penthouse or whatever, before you both do something stupid. Or before someone else does."

Jake was silent for a second, and all Sunoo could hear was silence and the vibrating tension of the line.

Then he said, "Send me the address."

By the time Jake walked into the club, the neon lights beamed off his skin, and his face was an illustration of worry and confusion.

He didn't have to look long to find you. You were still in the booth with crossed legs, head on Winter's shoulder, laughing uncontrollably at something you couldn't even remember. A vape in one hand, a drink in the other, and your eyes half closed. Jake stopped at the all-too-familiar sight.

The sweet peach vapor rising into the air as you inhaled and then your lips forming a dopey smile murmuring his name again.

"Jake..."

He didn't know whether to be angry, frightened or heartbroken. All he knew was he had never seen you like this before, and it shook the something deep inside of him.

You hardly seemed bothered.

No shred of guilt or regret for how you were holding on to him, smiling a soft smile, eyes slightly hazy, urging him to take another sip. He huffed through his nose, defeated, reached out, took the vape from your fingers, and set it on the glass table with a slight clink.

"Okay that's enough," he muttered.

You pouted slightly, but before you could stammer again, he reached his arm around your waist; you didn't even waist-it would be instinct if he had spent more time with you. The clack of your heels didn't quite match his as he glanced down at the floor. They had to be hurting you.

With every third step you winced. "Shouldn't be wearing such cheap heels," he said lowly with his brow knit. "They're going to bruise your pretty legs."

God. Pretty? What was he thinking?

He glanced down again and clenched his jaw once he saw your dress had hiked up far too high. He reached down and adjust it, then mumbled, "You are unbelievable."

But he was always careful. Always considerate. As if he was afraid if he touched you too sharply, he would break something worth holding.  

He brought you down to his car—his expensive, sleek, spotless car that smelled just like him. Woodsy, clean, faintly sweet. You practically melted against him, arms slipping around his as you mumbled sleepily, "Jakey... you smell so sweet."

He coughed, ears flushing. "Y-Yeah?"

He ran a hand through his already messy hair and helped you into the passenger seat, buckling you in before starting the car. The drive to his penthouse was quiet, your head resting against the window, eyes slipping shut within minutes.

You were completely out. By the time he parked and opened the door to his place, you were dead to the world—face relaxed, breathing steady. He looked at you for a beat, then sighed and gently picked you up. You were lighter than he thought you would be. He set you down slowly on his bed, then stepped back and put his hands on his hips as he peered at your sleeping frame.

What was he supposed to do now? Your dress looked uncomfortable. Tight. You'd probably hate waking up in that. And your makeup—he grimaced. You'd hate waking up in that.

But changing you? That felt...wrong. What if you woke up and hated him for that?

He stood still for a moment, pacing a couple steps back and forth, before he sighed loudly and dug through all of his cabinets in the bathroom. He found, surprisingly, micellar water and some cotton pads, probably leftover from his stylist. He walked back to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking your hair back in place as his fingers brushed the side of your face.

He wiped away your makeup with the cotton pad guided by the micellar water in gentle swipes. Your face was soft without and looked younger. The real you. 

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes for a second before unzipping your dress carefully, only glancing once to make sure you were still out cold. Trying to look anywhere but at you, he slipped the fabric off your shoulders and grabbed one of his oversized tees and sweats—slipping them onto you like you were made of glass.

He swallowed hard and flung the dress from you and grabbed a blanket and threw it over you. But as soon as he leaned over and adjusted the pillow under your at-the-moment sleeping head, you moved. You pulled him in. A small "don't go," escaped your lips as you yanked him down to you, surprising him with a strength he didn't think your fragile little body had in those moments, especially being drunk.

"Oof—hey—!"

You held onto him like your life depended on it, arms wrapped around his neck, cheek pressed to his shoulder, and legs tangled with his. He froze. You were already asleep again. Heart racing, he released a shaky, unsteady breath as he gently slid down next to you, still dressed in his black top and sweats and unsure of what to do with his hands.

Everything felt so hot, so close, so... intimate. He couldn't help but let his hand explore and find his way to your hair as he mindlessly brushed it back. And maybe he did toss your cheap heels in the trash after he addressed your bruised, swollen ankles before he made the emergency delivery to bring you home, maybe he already contacted a brand contact to deliver a couple nice pairs of heels (in your size of course) that were worthy of being called worthy of you and totally legit. 

But for now he closed his eyes. Your breath on his neck. Your body curled into his like it was meant to be there.

When you awoke the following day, you were greeted by the smell of breakfast food and the warm weight of something furry shoved against your side.

Groggy and dazed, your hand moved of its own volition and brushed against thick furry fluff. You cracked open your eyes to see a golden blur stretched out beside you, tail wagging slowly from side to side occasionally becoming far too close to your face, tongue slightly poking out of her mouth. 

Layla. 

When she noticed you awake, her head perked up from sleepy rest to that unspeakable unsettling excitement only a golden retriever possesses, even at this time of the hour. She let out a little huff, rolled on her back, and scooted towards you, shoving her fuzzy little nose against your arm just before settling back down into her sleep.

That's when it struck you—this was most definitely not your bed. 

You blinked again, sat up a little, and inspected your surroundings. The unbelievably soft bedding. The minimalistic room plan. The leftover hint of cologne still lingering on the pillows. You looked down at yourself and realized you were sporting a huge long sleeved shirt and baggy sweats that did not belong to you. 

Jake's. 

"Fuck..." you muttered and flopped back down into the bed, your hangover returning with increasing intensity.

You were still lying there, playing gently with Layla'S soft ears, trying not to think too hard, when the door creaked open.  

Jake stepped in, looking like a movie scene you weren't ready for. White shirt, grey sweats, tousled morning hair. He froze for a second at the sight: you, curled up in his clothes, tangled up in his sheets, golden Layla sprawled across your side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His heart stuttered.

Why does this look so... domestic? Like some kind of fantasy?

He quickly cleared his throat, eyes darting anywhere but directly at you.

You slowly sat up, squinting at him, a small smirk tugging at your lips despite the dull pounding in your head. "What happened?" you asked, voice rough from sleep.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, debating how much to say.

"Um..." he started, looking down at Layla, who was now wagging her tail and trotting over to him like she didn't just betray you, and switch sides. "You kind of.... drank a little too much last night. And vaped, too." 

You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your amusement. "I figured," you chuckled, coughing a little into your elbow. "My head feels like it got stomped on."

Jake squatted down again and scratched behind Layla's ears. "You were kind of a mess," he teased, looking up at you for only a moment. "You tried to make me vape with you, you stumbled around in those trash heels, and you clung to me like a drunken koala." 

You blinked, completely deadpan. "Sounds about right." 

He shook his head, trying not to laugh. "Come downstairs. I made breakfast. You probably need it." 

You raised your eyebrow again. "You... cook?" 

Jake straightened up and tried to keep his own cool. "I don't burn things. That's good enough." 

You slid off the bed, slowly but surely, still adjusting to the pounding in your skull—and the warmth blossoming in your chest at how he was treating you. 

"Okay, chef Sim. Lead the way."

As you followed Jake out of the room, Layla trotting beside you like your personal guard dog, you couldn't help but smile a little.

The smell of eggs, toast, and something warm and savory filled your nose as you sat at Jake's sleek, black marble kitchen island. The plate in front of you looked like it came straight out of a cozy brunch café, and you were happily scarfing it down—nursing your hangover one bite at a time.

Jake was across the room, squatting down next to Layla, refilling her food, and exchanging her water with a kind of tenderness you weren't expecting from someone like him. His shirt had wrinkles all over, his hair was messy probably from repeatedly running his hands through it, and he had that same faint smell of cologne that was going to be permanently hardwired into your brain.

You caught him looking. Not in the staring way that you might be thinking, but subtly from the corner of his eye—like he didn't want to raise any suspicion of being caught checking you out while you were curled up in his oversized clothes that now hung off of you like a dress, sleeves falling past your fingers, still a little messy from sleeping, eyes still a little puffy. He turned, leaning against the counter, arms folded.

His expression turned soft. "You look tiny," he said nonchalantly, with an expression that looked as though the underlying sentiment was warmer, "My clothes are eating you alive."

You threw him a tired grin, still chewing, "That's kind of the point."

He chuckled, and bit his lip, shaking his head. He turned and busied himself with cleaning any dirty dishes, so that no one could see him smile. 

Later that day, when you finally got home, you found something on your doorstep—a sleek, matte-black box with a ribbon and a gold-embossed card tied to it.

You opened it slowly, your mouth hanging open. 

Inside was a pair of beautiful heels—nice dark color with dark red detailing, elegant, high quality. And folded inside at the top of the box was a small note card with one letter in gold foil:

J.S

You blinked, processing. So that's why your busted heels were missing...

You glanced down at your feet. His slippers were still on you. You hadn't even realized you hadn't taken them off yet.

A week later. 

You had just stepped out the shower, hair wet, skin glistening, when Jake's name popped up on your screen. You grabbed the closest top—it was an old lace tank top—and threw on some sweats before answering the FaceTime and propping it to your vanity.

"Yo?" you said, towel drying your hair whilst screen loaded. 

Jake popped up looking like he was trying to act cool. "Hey," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh... I'm going to this event. It's for my company. Pretty lame actually, but I'm still going. I already asked Sunoo and Winter so I thought-" 

"You want me to come too?" you finished as you quickly dabbed moisturizer on your cheeks taking quick glances at the screen.

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean, yeah. I think it would be cool if you went." 

You hummed, "Sounds fancy."

Jake raised one of his eyebrows pretending he wasn't watching as you rubbed the product down your jawline. "You'd look good."

You looked back at the screen just as his eyes flicked away. "Were you staring at me?"

"No."

"Jake."

"...Maybe."

You smirked. "I'll go." 

The night of the event, the Sim Corp hall was draped in gold light, humming with glamour, money, and practiced small talk. You walked in with Sunoo and Winter by your side, all dressed to the nines, effortlessly flexing the luxury heels Jake had gifted you the night before.

The moment you walked in, people turned their heads.

But you found him. Standing a little bit to the left of the middle of the ballroom, Jake looked like he had walked straight out of a Vogue spread—suit crisp, tie just loose enough that he already looked as though he hated wearing it. But he wasn't all by himself. There were women surrounding him—young, pretty girls, heads angled down, obviously enchanted by his name, his face, his family.

You felt a tight knot in your chest. But then Jake turned—like he felt your arrival. He pushed right through the crowd, eyes locked right on yours. His expression changed. He pushed right through the circle of women without thinking twice and made a beeline straight for you.

Some of the girls exchanged annoyed looks behind him and began whispering, but he didn't care. Not tonight. Because tonight he had a plan. And it started right now.

Jake stopped right in front of you, eyes burning into yours, voice low, a half-smile forming on his lips. "You came."

You tilted your head, trying to play it cool. "You did invited me, didn't you?"

He laughed, his eyes roaming over your dress, your shoes—his shoes, actually—then back to your face. "You look..." he paused for a second, leaned in a bit closer, "unreal."

You blinked. His tone shifted threw you off. "You're trying to get me to blush, Sim?"

"Not trying. Just being honest." His stare didn't waver. "Mind if I take you for a second?"

You arched an eyebrow. "From what? Your harem of fanclub girls?"

He chuckled under his breath, leaning in slightly closer. "I don't care about any of them."

You held his gaze, a sense of something passing between you unspoken and intangible. "Then who do you care about?" you asked, barely above a whisper.

Jake's voice dipped low. "You."

You didn't expect him to be that direct.

Sure, the signs had been there all along—the way he stayed slightly too long at your coffee shop's counter, the fact that he stayed on FaceTime until you fell asleep, the way he mindlessly sent you those heels. Jake Sim made it painfully obvious that he had a crush on you. But a public, "I've had the biggest crush on you, wants my lips on yours" type confession? A public kiss? At this type of event?!

You were stunned, caught completely off guard, when he gently cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

And just like that, time seemed to stop.

You felt a collective gasp throughout the great hall. You could faintly hear it through the fever pitch of ringing in your ears—the scandalized murmurs of the wealthy daughters nearby, the startled rustle of skirts, the clink of someone's champagne flute being dropped. Even Soobin, who was constantly scanning Jake like a hawk the entire time both of you were there, froze. 

Jake's dad. The girls. Jay, smirking in the distance. Sunoo and Winter, mouths agape in shock.

But Jake didn't care. He didn't care one bit. Because that kiss—it was his answer.

To every single person in that room. To the girls who tried to catch his eye. To the expectations set by his father. To the future they tried to write for him. 

His hands slid down to your waist, firm, grounding you like he was saying—you aren't making a mistake. Your hands... they found their way behind his neck, pulling him closer instinctively. 

You kissed him back. Right there in front of all of them. Softly at first, then deeper—as if something had snapped between you two. The slow-burn tension finally combusted, and you stopped denying that you had both been flirting for the past few months.

And that is when you were consumed with the spotlight. A warm, blaring white beam lit the two of you up, and you pulled away startled, only to see Jay across the room by the tech booth, giving Jake a discreet thumbs up.

Your eyes widened, "You planned that?" you whispered against his lips.

Jake only smiled, breathless, his forehead resting on yours, "Had to make a statement."

Before you could say anything else, a booming voice broke through the thick silence. "Sim Jaeyun!"

You both turned.

There he was—his furious father, face red as he broke through the crowd like a tank, with each step he took was heavy with rage. He looked at you, then looked at Jake, then looked back at the still-glimmering spotlight above. Jake didn't budge. You felt his hand still at your waist as he pulled you closer, ready to shield you from whatever this coming storm was going to bring.

"She does not belong here," his father spat, venom thick in his voice, "this is not what we agreed to. These guests-"

"I don't care about your guests," Jake cut in, tone sharp, protective. "Or your list. Or whatever arrangement you've made behind my back. I've made my choice."

He gripped your waist a little tighter when he added, and only looking at you now, "And she belongs wherever I am." 

His father's face twisted, but barely registered. Because, in that moment, Jake turned to you again, gentler, her fingers brushed the hair behind your ear. "I told you I'm not interested in anyone else," he said softly, "and I meant it." 

Then Jake turned back to his father, jaw clenched, voice steady yet icy cold. "Whatever."

He didn't wait for another word, not for his father, nor for the aghast guests. With your hand in his and his other tucked in the pocket of his fitted blazer, he walked out of that claustrophobic ballroom with you beside him, uncaring of the storm behind him. There was a ripple of noise behind you. Some of the voices hissed, some were disgusted.

"She's not even one of us."

"Middle-class? Come on!"

"The nerve—"

But not all reactions were bitter. A few guests exchanged soft smiles and hushed admiration.

"That's real love."

"He found someone who finally makes him happy."

"She makes him feel free."

Because for the first time ever, Jake Sim—the man who was always the family name, the tailored suits, the shaken down company—chose for himself. And he chose you.  

Sunoo and Winter followed behind you two, their eyes sparkling with pride like they were just watching the main couple finish in a rom-com. Sunoo was clutching his phone as if he was just dying to edit together a whole video montage of him and his friends leaving this moment. 

Jake opened the car door for you, ushering you in gently before sliding into the driver's seat. The interior was dark and quiet, the street lamps casting soft golden glows on his face. He glanced over at you, guilt flickering in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to drag you into... all that."

You looked at him and then chuckled lightly and shook your head. "Jake... I enjoyed it." 

His brows lifted slightly. You leaned your head against the window, smiling up at him. "It was chaotic and completely unexpected, but you kissed me like it meant everything."

Jake stared for a moment, stunned in silence—before his lips turned up in that soft, rare smile he only ever gave to you.

"Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?" he asked almost shyly.

You looked over at him, mischievous. "Well considering you kissed me in front of the entire elite of the city and started a family scandal...yeah, boyfriend. You're stuck with me now."

Jake let out a breathy laugh as he reached over and took your hand, interlocking your fingers. "Good. Because I wouldn't want that any other way."

And just like that, boom—boyfriend and girlfriend. No contracts. No pretending. No expectations. Just you, and him.

(...and somewhere, Layla was probably waiting with her tail wagging ready to jump all over you when you got home.)

[joeyfranchise]

cuz you know that it’s delicate

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: what happens when joe’s teammate slips a joke about your size difference and it sends you spiraling? being in love with joe since college has been tough but what happens when he starts figuring it out and trying to unravel you more?

warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, MDNI. heaaaavy size kink, joe being a smartass should be it’s own warning, language, p in v, fingering, oral (f. receiving), roughness. probably more? this one was so much fun, plzzz stick around til the end. 🤭

word count: 3.1k!

note: heyyy everyone! my first joey smut 🤭 i hope y’all love it and again MDNI!! (shoutout to my boo @slimshiesty, hate me later and that stray ball part is rotting in my brain, so i snuck a lil of it in here as an ode to you. ily bbg. 💗) (also another taylor swift title bc i fr couldn’t think of anything else plus i used it a bit.. i swear i’m not trying to steal anyones thing i love all the joey swifties)

tags: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 (plz message me or send an ask to be added!) part 2

sexual frustration has to be one of the worst things in the world. sexual frustration at the hands of your best friend, however, takes the cake.

it started at a party two weeks ago when you were invited out by joe, the star nfl quarterback, certified dweeb, and your very best friend all wrapped into one.

flashback

you were sitting around with joe and some of his teammates, listening in on their conversations and people watching the rest of the time. it was easiest for you to hang out with joe and ja’marr since you knew them from college, but the rest of their teammates and their teammates partners were really cool too, and all so welcoming to you.

everyone was laughing and joking, having a laid back time, picking on each other for random things. that was, until, someone mentioned how funny it was to see you standing next to joe, being that he was well over a foot taller than you.

“what? how’s it funny?” joe asked, glancing between you and his teammate. “because you make her look so tiny! like a little doll. get up and stand next to each other.”

you were reluctant to move from your seat, hating where this was leading. it was already hard enough having feelings for your best friend over the span of a few years, but this was crossing dangerous territory. kink territory.

for you, there was something about how much bigger than you joe was. he towered over you. his body was lean but built with thick muscles. he could quite literally pick you up and sling you around like a rag-doll. (and honestly if he did, you’d thank him.)

you hoped his teammate pointing out your size difference wouldn’t be turned into a big deal, but once joe pulled you out of your chair to stand next to him, it was like the gates of hell opened.

you stood side by side, your head barely even reaching his armpit. everyone around the table laughed, including joe. “damn, i guess i never really focused on how little you are, y/n.” joe laughed, and placed his forearm on top of your head like an armrest.

alarms went off in your head. ABORT MISSION. ABORT MISSION.

you cleared your throat quickly, and came to your senses, shoving joe off before getting back into your seat. “maybe i’m not small, maybe you’re just a freakishly large man.” you remark, trying to keep your voice even.

“nah,” he replied, sitting down next to you again, “you’re sooooo tiny.” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you flipped him the finger. “fuck you big bird.” you snarked before downing the rest of your drink. god knows you need it. you hoped that your pink cheeks would be chalked up to the alcohol and that nobody else had caught on.

the next instance came a few days later, on a sunday, and it was much worse than the first. so, so much worse.

flashback to sunday

you came to the bengals’ home stadium to watch their game, and since it was early you figured you’d go down to the field to say hi to joe and some of your other friends on the team.

you made it down and waved hi to ja’marr, tee and sam before making your way to joe. he spotted you and smiled, walking in your direction to meet you halfway.

you decided on wearing one of his jerseys and a pair of jeans, something simple and comfortable. as soon as he made it to you, the first thing he did was look you up and down and then pick up the sleeve of the jersey before chuckling.

“damn, this thing is swallowing you!” he comments. you playfully smack at his arm. “shut up, joey.”

“it’s cute, though. you look nice. are you excited for the game?”

you don’t give yourself much time to process that “cute” comment. wtf does that even mean? who cares. ABORT MISSION.

“of course i’m excited! i can’t wait to watch you guys kick some ass today—“

your sentence is cut off abruptly as joe grabs you and lifts you, turning your bodies so his back is now facing the opposite direction on the field. his grip on you is so tight that your chest is pressed into his stomach. you look up at his face, his expression a mix between anger and concern. you can feel your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen in disbelief.

“um, joe, you’re bear hugging the hell out of me right now. wanna put me down and explain what happened?”

he lets you down gently, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “stray ball was coming right at you. i didn’t want it to hit you, it would’ve hurt you pretty bad.”

you reach a hand up and pat his chest, feeling the thick muscles. “thank you!” you respond, once again monitoring your tone. “i’m gonna head up and talk to everyone, ok?” you ask, already moving to leave. “yeah, ok.” joe says, focusing his attention on the ground. you can tell he’s contemplating something, but you don’t want to ask. you want to get out of there as quickly as possible.

the final instance came a few days later when you went to joe’s house just to hang out and have dinner.

flashback to wednesday night

you park your car in joe’s garage and step out, tucking your phone and keys in your pocket before heading up the stairs. before you make it to the door, joe’s already opening it and waiting in the doorway.

“hi bub!” you call, pushing past him and stepping inside, kicking off your shoes by the door. he greets you back sweetly and the two of you go sit on barstools in the kitchen, just catching up on things that have gone on this week. you rant to joe about your job and he listens intently, offering what advice he can.

he rants back to you about things going on with the team, and frustrations he’s having on the field. you try to return the favor and offer him some advice, but you know you aren’t of too much help. joe appreciates it regardless.

soon after your food arrives, you find yourselves in the living room, sitting on the couch side by side as a movie plays. you and joe always loved just being around each other, you had so deep of a connection that oftentimes words didn’t need to be shared at all.

you both enjoyed those moments.

you felt yourself starting to doze off until joe laughed at something in the movie, the sound waking you a bit.

“oh, sorry. you can go to sleep.” he whispers, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. you appreciate his warmth and you rub your head on his shoulder as you get comfy. you hear joe chuckle.

“what’s funny?” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “it’s like i’m hyper-aware now of how small you are next to me. it’s so cute.”

you make no outward moves or sounds, but inside you are screaming. yelling. this is the worst one yet.

you don’t know it yet, but joe’s figured it out. he’s seen you get flustered three times now over these comments, and he knows something is going on in your brain when they’re said. he isn’t aware if you have feelings for him like he does for you, but he knows you liked when he picked you up so easily on the field the other day.

it was effortless to him, despite what you might think of yourself.

you sit next to him in silence, eyes still closed, trying to control your breathing. just try to fall asleep again you tell yourself, hoping that joe has no idea. if you only knew.

when you wake in the morning, you’re still snuggled on the couch with him as the soft morning light shines gold around the living room. you shake him awake.

“joey, i gotta get going. i need to go home and get ready for work and you have thursday practice.”

he pulls you in closer for a moment, hugging you bye, and then wishes you a good day at work. you bolt out the door and to your car as fast as you can, heading home to wash the previous day away in the shower.

end of flashbacks

so, this is where you are now.

it’s been almost a week since you’ve talked to joe, avoiding him because you aren’t sure what to say or do. part of you knows he has something figured out, but you don’t know what or how much.

you’re terrified to let him in on your feelings, what’s going on in your head, because you’re delicate and you don’t want to ruin something that has always been there for you.

the other part of you knows you have to tell him, you need to tell him. you love him, you lust after him. the comments that keep being made about your sizes are driving you to the point of insanity that nothing will fix it unless joe manhandles you as rough as you can take it and he fucks it out of you.

you’re pretty sure your vibrator is gonna be on its last leg soon.

alright, i gotta call him. i gotta get this over with.

you grab your phone off the kitchen counter and dial his number, listening to it ring for a few moments.

“hello?” he finally answers, sounding a bit upset.

“hey joey. sorry i haven’t been talking to you this week. i just— i think i need to talk to you about some stuff and.. would you mind coming over later?”

he says nothing for a moment, but you hear him blow out a long breath. “yeah, of course, y/n.” he finally says. “i can be over around 7?”

you check the clock on the stove, it reads 4:34pm.

“7 sounds great! see you then!” you say, hanging up quickly. now you play the waiting game.

all your chores are done, and you take a lovely everything shower to help calm your nerves, and you make sure to drink plenty of water and have a snack as you tell yourself affirmations.

it’s going to be okay, he’s my best friend. he will understand. he will still be my friend regardless, he’s always been there for me. if he rejects me, nothing will change that.

you sit on the couch and scroll your phone as you wait. there’s still just a bit over an hour before joey will arrive, so you waste time scrolling tiktok, cozy on the couch.

soon enough you hear the doorbell, and you jump off the couch to answer it, stepping aside to let joe in.

he sits on your couch, waiting for you to join him and start speaking. “joe, i, um.. i hav-“

he cuts you off. “you have feelings for me? you like it when people compare our sizes because it turns you on?” he smirks, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. he’s manspreading now, his thick thighs on full display. your mouth falls open for a moment.

“yeah. essentially exactly that.” you finally reply.

“so what are we gonna do about that?” he questions, pulling you into his lap. you place your hands on his chest instinctively, and before you know what’s happening he‘s pulling you in for a heated kiss.

his lips are soft against yours and he gently prods at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue past as you open it. he tastes like mint, it’s intoxicating you. one minute his large hands are splayed over your back holding you to him, the next he’s lifting you off the couch by grabbing underneath your armpits and carrying you down the hall, roughly body-slamming you on the bed.

“dude, save the UFC moves for ja’marr!” you groan, sucking in a large breath. joe jumps on the bed, caging you in by placing his knees on either side of your hips and his hands next to your head.

“no, i don’t think so.” he smirks, leaning in closer until your noses are nearly touching. you felt your cheeks heating up at his close proximity, and his eye-contact with you was starting to feel intimidating, even though you had just been sharing such a passionate kiss. you hated that you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties just from him trying to wrestle you.

he blows gently on your face and you shove at him. he laughs you off and leans even closer, pressing the tip of his nose to yours before moving away and leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“this would be a lot easier if you’d just admit that you want me to manhandle you. you want me to go rough, right?” he teases. you’ve had enough of his smugness. you grab the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss, tugging at his hair and nipping his bottom lip. he groans into you. he stands from the bed, picking you up again, carrying you across the room before roughly slamming your body against the wall.

you let out a strangled moan, loving the feeling of him using all his strength on you.

“can i take your shorts off?” he asks, looking into your eyes.

“fuck yes, please.” you breathe out, exhilarated.

joe yanks your shorts and panties down your legs in one swift motion, kneeling down in front of you. he’s able to keep your body held up and pressed against the wall. he looks up at you with questioning eyes, making sure this is okay. you give him a soft nod in response.

he leans in and throws one of your legs over his shoulder. he starts by pressing the smallest kiss to your clit, and then licks a slow, languid stripe up your core. you hiss, your body arching off the wall at the new sensation. when you look down, you find him looking up at you, his beautiful blue eyes trained on your face.

your eyes roll back in your head as he continues his ministrations. you feel the hand that isn’t holding you against the wall rubbing circles on your inner thigh before joe slowly slips a finger into you.

you quickly approach your orgasm, your stomach tight with anticipation. joe doesn’t let up, working you there until your body feels like it’s being dunked into warm bath water, the feeling covering you from head to toe. it takes you a minute to regain your sense of self. joe pulls his fingers from your core and removes your leg from his shoulder, standing back up before lifting you so your legs are around his waist.

you waste no time pulling him in for a kiss. “holy shit, joey!” you moan, baffled at what just happened. he smirks into your kiss.

for the second time, you’re thrown onto the bed. you sit up, propped on your elbows as you watch joe stalk closer, his erection very obvious in his shorts. he pulls his shirt over his head and you do the same, unclasping your bra just after so that you’re completely bare for him.

you chalk your forwardness up to being comfortable with him, normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to act this way. neither would joe, actually, but you shrug it off.

you don’t remember seeing him strip his shorts off or climb on top of you, but you know you’re kissing him again. you can’t get over how good his lips feel. one of his hands traces your curves, he runs his fingers along your body until his large hand is cupping your breast.

he moves his kisses to your neck and you gasp, reveling in the feeling of him kissing and touching you softly and sweetly.

you look down at his throbbing cock and suddenly you feel intimidated. joe hears you gasp. he lets out a soft laugh.

“don’t talk a big game and then act scared of it, baby.” he teases, pressing light kisses to your cheeks. you swallow thickly.

joe reaches down and strokes himself, spitting on his hand to slick himself up. he looks at you once again for confirmation, and you nod to him. he helps you get comfortable beneath him, positioning your legs around his waist as he pushes his tip in. you suck in a harsh breath.

it stings, but it isn’t the worst thing. he moves against you slowly, sliding in inch by inch until he bottoms out. he looks down and you, your faces inches apart, and you giggle.

“what is it bub?” he asks, smiling softly. “they weren’t kidding calling you big dick joe.” you laugh out. joe laughs too.

after giving you a few minutes to adjust, he starts moving hips, rocking into yours slowly. you think this is what the peak of euphoria feels like.

he leans back down to kiss you, his hand finding your throat and squeezing ever so slightly. your back is arched, your chest pressed to his as your hands tangle through his hair. his hands move down, finding your hips and holding them down to the bed. you moan at the rough grip.

he starts going harder, his hips pistoning into yours as you continue kissing, both of you moaning out your pleasure.

“joey, i-i’m close.” you warn, your body covered in a sheen of sweat. you felt it again, you were so close to that warmth once again pulsing over your body.

until.

knock knock knock.

what was that? you thought. you tried to focus on joe but everything seemed to be slipping away.

then, there it was again. the knocking. and the shrill of your phone ringing.

you startled awake, sweat covering your body. you looked at your phone screen. 7:10pm. one missed call from joe.

you threw your throw blanket off, trying to gather your thoughts. what the fuck? what is happening?

you thought you’d just had the best fuck of your life, that everything would be okay with you and joe but… it was just a dream? you dozed off and you didn’t even know it.

“y/n, let me in!” you hear joe yell from the opposite side of the door. you’re panicking, your body is hot, your clothes are stuck to you. still, you get up and almost sprint to the door. you open it, taking in his appearance. just like your dream.

black shorts, black shirt. backwards cap.

“can i come in? are you okay?” he asks. you watch as he takes in your appearance. sweaty hair stuck to your neck, your eyes glazed over.

“um, yeah joe. i’m okay. come in.” you step aside, inviting him in, just like your dream. he sits down.

“so, what did you wanna talk about?” he asks. you sit down next to him, blowing out a long breath. this was gonna be a longggg conversation.