#and forces his way into my arms and on my lap

[earlysunshines]

under the mistletoe

kim minji x reader ; fluff

synopsis: your ex is going to be at your cousin's christmas party so you convince your super cute gorgeous amazing stupid idotic hot best friend to play girlfriend for the night--it should be fine, right? it's not like anything real will happen... right? right??

warnings: fake dating but there's like no angst bc they're too gay to be doing all that (i can't write angst idk) ; making out!!! HOORAY!!!!! ; nerd minji my lover ; they're so gay ; kinda fast paced ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread!!!

a/n: wanted to get winter themed fics out for all three before christmas but that prob won't happen LOL anyways this idea has been marinating in my head forever, enjoy!!! oh, and merry christmas!!

“i hate jake.”

minji looks away from her phone, one eyebrow raised as she watches you sink into the cushion even further. this is the third time you’ve groaned dramatically in the last five minutes. 

“…jake is your cousin.” she points out, dryly.

“and the worst person on earth.” you mutter, setting your phone down beside you. minji watches you lean over until you flop against her with a very questionable posture. “he’s forcing me to go to his stupid christmas party.”

“and this is a problem because…?”

“because,” you huff, sitting up straight again. “my ex will be there. probably just to annoy me.”

minji immediately makes a face, scrunching her nose in disgust. “ugh, gross… didn’t she dump you for ‘personal growth’ and in that same month started dating a man?”

“i fear.” you reply, crossing your arms. “her egos so big that she probably thinks i’m miserable over her. i got over her the moment i found out she was with a man! she thinks im some stupid, emotionally immature—ugh.“

minji rolls her eyes. “i can’t believe you dated her—for four months.”

“not my brightest time.”

“it baffles me,” minji begins, “i hated her, you know?”

“oh, i know.” you glance at her, failing to hide a small smile despite your frustration. “you were not subtle about it.”

“well i wasn’t trying to be,” she says flatly, setting her phone down and looking at you properly. you peel yourself off her shoulder, moving yourself over to lay flat on your back your couch with one leg over minji’s lap. “so, what’s your plan? you can’t just go and let her get under your skin.”

you let out a long sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. “i don’t know. maybe i just… won’t go.”

“that’s an option,” minji starts, poking at the gingerbread man on your pajama pants mindlessly. “but jake will never shut up if you skip.”

“i know,” you groan, running your hands further up to grip at your hair out of frustration. “what do i even do? show up alone and let her pity me? she’s going to think i’m a loser—a bigger loser than the one she already makes up in her head.”

“you could just… not show up? make an excuse?”

“jake is pretentious—he’ll know i’m bluffing.”

“send him a fake screenshot of the thermometer showing that you have a high fever?”

“no, he’ll know.”

minji sighs, tilting her head as she studies you. “so what’s your plan then? cry in the corner? accidentally spill juice on her—or even worse—on yourself and hide in the bathroom?”

“you’re so mean to me.” you huff, sitting up and leaning against the opposite side of the couch now. you stare at minji for a bit, she’s looking at you with raised brows and a curious expression that makes you sit up straighter. “oh my god, i have a plan.”

minji immediately looks suspicious. “what kind of plan?”

“it involves you.”

“absolutely not.”

“i didn’t even say anything yet!” you kick her thigh, making her push your foot away. “just listen. you play my girlfriend for the night,” you say proudly, grinning at her like it’s the most obvious solution in the world.

minji blinks. “what?”

“we date—not for real—for the party.”

she stares at you for a moment, then bursts out laughing. “you’re kidding me.”

“i’m not! think about it—it’s perfect. she’ll see me with you, someone way better than her, then she’ll get off my back, and i won’t have to spend the whole night dodging her.”

minji shakes her head, though there’s a faint flush creeping up her neck. “and why would i agree to this?”

“because you love me?” you say skeptically, giving her a stupid pout and your best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “please, minji. you just have to stick with me and pretend to like me and plus–you’ll get free food and drinks. please?”

minji hesitates, poking at the gingerbread man on your pants again, the same one right over your shin. you tear your leg away from her, expecting an answer. “i don’t know…” she mumbles.

“i’ll treat you to dinner.” you add, which makes minji shoot her head up.

“dinner?”

“whatever you want.” you promise.

minji sighs, letting her head fall back against the couch. “fine. but only because i can’t stand her either—and i kind of feel bad for you.”

you barely let her finish the sentence before launching yourself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug with your arms around her shoulders. you’ve pushed her down a bit, she’s holding your weight, and her senses are overwhelmed from the scent of vanilla that clouds you and the warmth radiating off of your body. 

“thank you!” you exclaim, your voice heavy with relief. 

her hands hover awkwardly in the air for a moment before resting lightly on your back. “you’re welcome?”

it’s only then that you realize how close you are—your face inches from hers, your breath brushing against her lips. you can feel her tense beneath you, her gaze flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back again. her lips part ever so slightly, and the light press of her hand on your back falters.

the air shifts, something growing heavier on you two, but before you can dwell on it too long, minji gently pushes you off with a nervous laugh.

“y-you were crushing me,” she says, her cheeks tinged pink as she sits back, putting some space between you. “are you that happy that i agreed?”

“yes,” you grin, unable to stop the warmth spreading through your chest. “you’re the best, seriously.”

“yeah, yeah,” she mutters, reaching for a pillow and chucking it at your head. “just don’t get used to it.”

you groan when the pillow hits you, grabbing it from her hands and leaping over to get her back. you two fight each other playfully on the couch, you even knock minji’s glasses off her nose. and through the bickering, your heart skips a little when she’s trapped one of your legs between both of hers, and you’re trying to defend yourself while pushing her off—hyperaware of the proximity.

maybe playing girlfriend for a bit won’t be too bad.

-

after getting dumped months ago, the first person you turned to was minji.

she didn’t hesitate. the moment she saw your glossy eyes, she pulled you into her arms, holding you close until you calmed down. that night, she didn’t hold back her thoughts about your awful ex, and you stayed over, letting her cook you breakfast the next morning.

you’ve always been good friends, spent a good amount of time together, but somehow, after that night your friendship felt different—deeper—after that.

since then, you’ve found comfort in each other, always finding reasons to be together thrown in with superficial insults. sometimes it’s quiet—her sitting on your couch while you fold laundry and hum along to something playing on your phone, or maybe it’s you at her place while she studies. even when she hates chores, minji pitches in without complaint, and you never question why.

then there are the little outings: a walk in the park, dropping off a package, or now: grocery shopping. it’s nothing extravagant, but somehow it always feels like enough. it’s always enough with her.

you and minji are strolling through the grocery store side by side. minji holds a small basket in her hand while you grab and toss random items in with little thought. she’s squinting at a list on her phone, her lips moving slightly as she mutters the items under her breath. 

“i was thinking,” you begin, and minji looks up, quirking a brow.

“oh god.”

“you’re so mean to me.” you flick her shoulder before continuing. “if we’re going to be girlfriends, we need a solid backstory. something believable.” 

minji grabs a jar of almond butter and tosses it in the basket. “you’re overthinking this.”

“no, i’m not. what if someone asks us how we got together? we need a solid story,” you argue, “and i know jake is going to be interrogating me as soon as i introduce you—or at least curious, maybe.”

minji sighs. “fine. how about… we were hanging out, just the two of us, and suddenly we just fell in love or something. we confessed while watching a romance film, maybe?”

“wow,” you giggle, “that’s so original. super romantic.” 

“it’s simple and probably believable,” she says defensively, nudging you with her finger. 

“it’s corny.” you tease, turning and stepping into the next aisle. “how about this: we were at a concert and locked eyes and—”

“that’s even worse.” minji groans, covering her face with her hand.

“i didn’t even finish!” 

“exactly. it sounds like hyein made that up.” she snickers, “i can’t believe she’s also your cousin.”

“one cousin that probably won’t make it to the party,” you sigh in relief, “she’d blow the whole plan, knowing how we are.”

“what?” minji questions, curious as to what ‘we are’ is. before she can ask, you cut her thoughts off.

“we’ll go with your idea i guess. but we also have to spend lots of time together, more than we usually do, and we kind of just have to make it believable.”

“that’s nothing.”

“well i can’t really trust you on that, minji. you’re not the brightest.”

you two continue to bicker and poke at this whole ‘fake dating’ ordeal. as you head out to the checkout line, loading your items onto the conveyor belt, an elderly lady in front of you turns around, her eyes twinkling as she smiles warmly.

“you two make such a lovely couple,” she says, her voice kind. “you compliment each other so well.”

both of you freeze for a moment, caught completely off guard. you glance at minji, whose ears have turned a noticeable shade of red, and you can’t help but grin.

“uh, thank you.” minji mumbles, suddenly very interested in organizing the groceries.

you don’t correct the woman, instead leaning slightly closer to minji and whispering, “see? it’s already working.”

minji rolls her eyes and shoves you lightly with her shoulder, unable to hide her flustered expression. it’s different than her usual, calm demeanor, and you like it. it’s cute.

you laugh, nudging her back. “you’re kind of cute when you’re like that.”

“what?” minji asks, a lump forming in her throat. “you’re so… you’re so annoying.”

—

countdown: two weeks until the party

you’re doing your best not to think about having to drive almost forty-minutes south for jake’s stupid party at his stupid (-ly nice) house. instead, you’re at your usual cafe spot with hanni, danielle, and minji. the conversation is casual, filling the air, along with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.

you’re mid-rant, your hands gesturing animatedly as you lean forward. “i’m just saying, if you’re going to take a lit class, at least try to understand the material. this guy skims a few pages of virginia woolf and pretends he’s a ‘feminist.’ he’s doing the absolute most to appeal to women—half that class is gay!”

“which guy was this again? there’s too many men you hate on.” hanni asks playfully, sipping on her latte.

“heeseung. oh my god,” you huff, leaning back in your chair. “he’s so fake. he’ll throw out random quotes that barely connect to what we’re discussing, and the worst part? half the class buys it because he’s loud and confident. he doesn’t actually care about the themes or depth of anything. all heeseung does is show up to class, dress like some girls ‘dream man’ pinterest board, and plays pretend.”

danielle glances up with a small frown. “that’s frustrating. especially since you actually like the  material.”

“exactly!” you say, stirring your straw around for no reason at all. “and don’t even get me started on how he turns every discussion into some weird way to hit on the girls in class. like, ‘oh, you’re so insightful. you must be really in touch with your emotions.’ oh my god i can’t stand straight men. i can’t stand people who enable them.”

minji chuckles quietly into her drink. the sound draws your attention, and for some reason, when your eyes meet hers, the air between you shifts. her gaze softens slightly, her lips quirking upward in a way that makes you stare a bit.

“he probably thinks he’s all that.” minji remarks, her voice steady but her gaze soft.

you falter for half a second, your rant losing steam. it’s not just the way she’s looking at you—it’s the way your chest tightens like someone tying a knot and tugging. it’s unexpected, and the way minji smiles down at her cup makes you feel all tingly inside. that’s odd. more than odd.

“yeah, exactly.” you quickly look away, ignoring whatever is making you do a double take. “he’s so one-dimensional, self-absorbed, and i hate him.”

minji bites back another smile, trying to keep her focus on her drink instead of the way you light up when you rant. she likes the way you talk, the furrow of your brows, the passion in your tone. she knows it’s a little dangerous, this quiet admiration she can’t seem to shake, the same admiration she pushed down your first semester. she’s gotten too good at keeping it to herself to lose now, and why now anyway?

hanni nudges you with her elbow. “at least he’s giving you plenty of material for complaints. maybe you could analyze him for an essay.”

you laugh, the sound warm and genuine. 

minji’s stomach does a little flip—she wishes it wouldn’t.

“i’d seem like a fan,” you reply, shaking your head. “i’d rather focus on something—or someone—that actually matters.”

the words hang in the air for a second longer than intended, and your eyes dart back to minji’s. it’s fleeting, but there it is again—the strange flutter, like time paused just enough for something to stir.

minji looks away quickly, busying herself by looking out the window, and you clear your throat, turning your attention back to hanni and danielle.

the moment passes, but the undercurrent lingers. neither of you speak on it.

—

countdown: nine days until the party

minji’s apartment is chaos, but the adorable kind. her two-year-old nephew is currently standing on the couch, holding a stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a juice box in the other, refusing to eat the carrot sticks minji had cut up for him.

“you’ll like it if you just try it,” minji sighs, sitting in front of him. he’s sitting on the couch, towering over her because of the level difference. it’s almost comical.

he shakes his head, lying flat on his back and ignoring her.

you lean against the kitchen counter, biting back a grin as minji sighs dramatically and pinches the bridge of her nose. “you’re lucky you’re so cute,” she mutters, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of her bickering with a child. she pinches his cheek and adds, “otherwise i’d be less lenient, you troublemaker.”

“he’s kind of like you. stubborn… and cute.” you tease, muttering the last part to yourself. you pull out your phone to snap a picture, minji whirling around a moment too late after you capture the scene. 

“aw, i’ve got to make this my wallpaper.” you laugh, walking over and sitting down next to her. 

minji rolls her eyes, shoving you lightly. “is this for our ‘fake dating’ thing?”

you hadn’t thought about that; in fact, you forgot about it for a brief moment. “oh,” you begin, looking at her with a strange confusion in your heart. “well, no. i thought it was a cute… candid moment.”

“whatever.” she grumbles, but her lips twitch into a reluctant smile as she returns to negotiating with her nephew. “but send me that, please.”

…

lunchtime comes with fewer arguments, mostly because minji bribes the toddler with nuggets. the three of you end up at a cozy cafe, not too far from the one you frequent with your friends. the kid is perched in a high chair between you and minji, eating happily. 

minji is effortlessly charming, coaxing him to eat some of the carrots she brought with her and laughing at the attempts of sentences that he babbles. her eyes crinkle at the corners in a way that makes your heart feel a little too full.

you snap another picture when she’s not looking—minji leaning over to wipe ketchup off the kid’s cheek, her expression soft and so full of care it marks your chest ache.

“why are you smiling like an idiot?” she asks, catching you mid-photo.

“no reason,” you lie, slipping your phone into your pocket with a small, secret grin.

…

back at minji’s apartment, the liveliness dies down and reaches something still, something quieter. her nephew gets tired from the walking that occurred after lunch, so when you’re all back home he’s tucked under minji’s arm, clutching his dinosaur.

minji’s in a crewneck and grey sweatpants with two braids resting against the pillow her head is on, loose strands fraying out. she reaches over to drape the blanket over the two of them, and you watch from the door frame as you lean on it. 

her eyes close from exhaustion, and that’s when you quietly grab the polaroid sitting on her shelf. it’s a spontaneous decision, but perfect for the moment. you turn it on, smile at the two, and press click. the flash catches you off guard, you’re afraid to wake them—but neither of them budge. 

the photo prints out slowly, and once it’s fully spewed out you shake it in your hand so it can develop. it takes a moment to develop, but once it does, the smile on your face grows and stretches from ear to ear: minji’s face is relaxed, peaceful, and her nephew eunwoo is nestled against her with a similar expression. you slide the polaroid into the back of your phone case—just because. 

as you turn to leave, minji stirs, her eyes fluttering open just enough to see you.

“stay,” she murmurs, her voice laced with sleep.

“minji,” you start, but she shifts a bit, making room for you while keeping eunwoo comfy. she pats an empty space beside her and grins tiredly.

“just for a little while,” she whispers, her eyes already closing again. “please?”

it’s the ‘please’ that does it. you hesitate only for a moment before stepping closer, your heart beating so loudly that if makes you wonder if she can hear it. climbing into the bed next to her, the mattress dips as you settle, minji instinctively drapes an arm over you, and it feels just right. the warmth of her so close is almost too much, but its perfect in a way you can’t bring yourself to think about twice.

you’ve always been fine with being touchy when it came to minji��lingering on the couch together, playful shoves, nudges, and maybe a limb or two resting on one another—but now? it’s much different. it’s easy to close your eyes and let yourself fall when she’s so close.

…

you wake up to the light outside fading, the room covered with the remnants of the sun shining through the window. minji is still beside you, her face turned toward yours, her breathing slow and even. her nephew is a small weight against her other side, pressed against her with the way her hand is angled and still clutching his dinosaur.

minji’s eyes flutter open just barely, and she looks at you like she’s still dreaming. there’s something unsaid in the way she gazes at you, something quiet and tender and a little overwhelming. 

you don’t say anything, and neither does she. but the more the silence stretches on and with each slow blink she gives you while her lips form into another small smile—you realize you don’t want the moment to end.

she’s close, warm, and comfy—that’s minji. you realize it then as the sun continues to set, as your breaths are the only sound filling the room, and as minji absentmindedly strokes her thumb against your shoulder repeatedly that you wouldn’t mind being her real girlfriend. not if it meant being this close to her whenever you wanted and getting to love her on a different level.

the thought doesn’t scare you. it doesn’t feel rushed or strange or anything too overwhelming. it just is. the thought simply lingers in the air.

she shifts slightly, her arm moving over to rest on your back before pushing you closer to her. she lets out a content sigh as a full smile takes over. your heart flutters, and you smile back, just as soft.

eunwoo stirs, a little groan wakes both you and minji up a bit more. his voice breaks the moment as he mumbles something incoherent, and you see his little hand reaching over and squishing minji’s cheek in the process, even messing her braid up a bit more. you laugh at the sight and minji turns to him, brushing his hair back gently.

“time to wake up,” she murmurs lowly. “your mom might show up soon.”

the three of you wake up slowly, with minji being the first one to rub her eyes and sit up first. before she tends to her nephew, she glances at you with a strange new feeling in her eyes and it makes you think that maybe she feels the same way. maybe she wouldn’t mind if the agreement could stretch to new years and further. maybe she wouldn’t mind if it weren’t fake.

—

countdown: five days until the party.

minji stays near your side as you navigate the packed clothing store with her, hanni, and danielle. there’s a variety of t-shirts that you stop by so you can skim through, dresses that hanni and danielle consider buying for their sisters, and assortments of accessories that you all try on together, snapping pictures to add to your favorites folder.

“this is hideous,” you mutter, holding up a sweater that resembles a traffic cone but ten times more saturated. 

“you should try it on,” minji insists with a smirk, already holding a ridiculous blazer with sequins lining it. “with this too. your ex won’t know what hit her, maybe the light will reflect off you and she’ll—”

“you think you’re so funny,” you narrow your eyes at her. “i can’t be the only one stealing the spotlight with my… hazardous outfit, can i? as my girlfriend you have to compliment me.” you grab the most outrageous pieces you can find—a neon, yellow turtleneck and pants that are somehow both plaid as they are glittery—then shove them into minji’s arms.

“so you want to play like that?” she grins, darting off to find something even worse.

hanni and danielle stand off to the side, watching the chaos unfold as you and minji start handing each other more and more ridiculous items for each other to try while giggling like middle schoolers. hanni’s shaking her head, her lips twitching into a smile. “they’re like an actual couple.”

“they really are.” danielle agrees, watching minji as she holds up a pair of fuzzy reindeer slippers and waves them at you like she’s found gold. 

“you’re going to look amazing in these,” minji says, basically cackling.

“you’re going to look even better, babe,” you retort, putting a dramatically large hat on top of her head. 

the entire store can probably hear you two laughing like idiots as you head into the dressing rooms, but neither of you care. and when you both step out, dressed head to toe in the most absurd clothing, hanni is the first to burst out laughing, immediately pulling her phone out and documenting everything. danielle hides her face behind her hands, trying not to laugh but failing miserably. 

minji steps out and winks at you. she’s clad in an oversized t-shirt that says “elf of the year” and the glitter, plaid hybrid pants you handed to her. she looks like an absolute idiot, and you figure this might be the moment you really fall for her.

“you look so stupid.” you laugh at her with an amused look on your face.

“you know,” hanni says between giggles, “if you two show up to the party like this, you’ll definitely convince everyone you’re together.”

danielle nods, her cheeks pink from laughter. “you’re already convincing enough.”

minji glances at you, her smile softening just a little. “maybe we’re overthinking the outfits,” she teases, but there’s something in her eyes that lingers longer than it should.

you shake it off. “maybe.” you say, your tone playful as you walk back into the dressing room.

“you’d still look good in that, though. you do now.” she replies, but her voice is quieter, as if she only wanted you to hear it.

instead of letting yourself get flustered, you roll your eyes and step inside the changing room, looking in the mirror to see a faint blush on your cheeks.

— 

countdown: <24 hours

you’re curled up on the couch with minji since both of you have been much more comfortable with being this close. a movie plays in the background, her arm is wrapped around you, and a blanket covers your legs that tangle together. the movie is something light and easy—your pick, though you can’t seem to focus on the plot. 

minji feels your leg tapping up and down subtly against her, notices your tongue poking at your cheek, and the way your fingers fidget with one another. she’s aware of everything, of course she is. she’s sitting close enough that you feel her shift toward you, her presence grounding but not enough to fully settle your nerves.

“you’re doing that thing again.” she says.

“what thing?” you mumble, avoiding her gaze.

“the thing where you’re silently spiraling, fidgeting,  freaking out—the latter.” she says simply, turning to look at you. “what’s on your mind?”

you sigh, pausing the tap of your leg and fidgeting and everything else. you run a hand through your hair before letting your upper body go limp against the cushion of your couch and minji’s forearm. “the party… i feel like it’s going to go bad or something. my ex, she’s… she’s so unbearable and extra! she’s only invited because she’s friends with jake’s girlfriend and ugh i don’t even know if this whole plan is going to work out because she knows you and—”

“hey,” minji cuts you off gently, and before you can protest, she reaches out and places her hand on yours. her touch is warm, her thumbs brushing over your knuckles before she boldly moves her hand over to your face now, cupping your cheek. “it’ll be fine,” she assures, and her voice is so steady that you almost believe her.

you blink, your breath catches, then shivers when you breathe out as best as you can. she’s looking at you with her pretty brown eyes through the frames that make her look like a huge nerd while simultaneously the cutest person as well and—

“minji…” you start, her name leaving your lips before your brain can process it. your stomach is doing something stupid and fluttery, the tension crackles between you like wood in a fire, keeping you two in place, pulling you closer. 

you flinch at the sound of the abrupt buzz of your phone beside you. it snaps the moment in two, making you glance away from her as reality takes over again. she pulls her hand back slowly, resting them back on your hand instead. 

she leans back and lightly mumbles, “you should get that,” her voice quieter than before.

you reach for your phone, your chest tight and your mind racing as you answer it.

it’s jake. of course it’s jake. his voice on the other end barely registers, something about ‘you’re coming, right?’ and ‘don’t bail on me!” followed by a stupid chuckle. your thoughts are still stuck on minji, and you’re wondering if the tension in the air weighed her down just as it did to you.

the call drags on, you glance at her from the corner of your eye. she’s staring at the screen, pretending to be absorbed in the movie, but her fingers fidget with the blanket. you can tell she’s just as thrown off as you are. 

when you finally hang up, placing your phone back down beside you, minji looks over with a brow raised.

“jake,” you answer, even if she never asked anything. “he’s… yeah. just checking up on me.”

“right.” minji purses her lips.

you two sit awkwardly far from each other as the movie continues on, but eventually, you can’t take it anymore and return to your normal position. this time, your head rests on her shoulder comfortably, and your hands are intertwined. minji rubs her thumb against the back of your palm, and you think you could stay like this for hours.

–

countdown: finished!

minji parks the car and you take a deep breath in.

“relax, babe.” minji’s attempt at lightening the mood makes you smile softly. “we got this.”

“you sure?”

minji rolls her eyes, then takes your hand in hers as she does a rundown on your ‘relationship.’

“we’ve been friends for a while, i fell first but you’re the one who confessed first while we watched a romance movie—” 

you cut her off, “and?”

“and after that we’ve been glued together by the hip. i know your likes and dislikes by default, um, our first date was… by the river? bike rides…?”

“you don’t sound certain.” you tease, “but you’re right.”

“whatever. and that’s it. everything else is just… our um, friendship.” minji’s voice dies down a bit when she says ‘friendship,’ the word articulates as if it were bitter on her tongue. “now let’s go.”

you and minji are side by side, her shoulder brushing against yours as you step through the door. music and scattered conversation are heard throughout the house, and you instinctively stick close to her. jake is the first to greet you, his grin wide as he pulls you into a quick hug.

“you made it!” he beams, then his eyes dart to minji. “and this is…?”

“this is minji,” you introduce, your tone casual while your thumb begins to scratch at your skin.

“minji,” jake repeats, a teasing edge creeping into his voice. “didn’t know you were dating anyone… you know she’s here— well, never mind that. guess we need some more time to catch up, huh?”

minji laughs softly, her hand lightly grazing your arm. “it’s a recent thing, few months.” she says firmly.

“yeah, kind of a surprise for us too. it happened out of nowhere, but i’m really happy.” you add with a shrug, trying to ignore the heat spreading up your neck. jake raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push further, to your surprise, and waves you both inside before giving minji a friendly side hug.

the party is more crowded than you expected, a mix of familiar faces and strangers scattered throughout the house. it’s not really a family gathering, not with the way jake’s friends have taken over the kitchen and living room. he’s always had a thing with turning events, even familial, social.

you and minji linger close, navigating through the small groups with an ease that surprises even you. every so often, while you’re greeting some mutual friends, you catch her glancing at you, a smile tugging at her lips and something in her eyes that you can’t decipher.

“when you said your cousin was inviting you to a holiday party… i expected it to be very formal and family-like.” minji murmurs as the two of you settle on the couch in the living room, plates of food balanced on your laps.

“he invites the cousins that are older and are on good terms with him.” you reply, rolling your eyes fondly. “he likes things like this. but hey, he’s fun, and he knows how to grill.”

minji laughs, nudging your leg lightly with hers. the sound is soft and warm, cutting through the background noise and settling somewhere deep in your heart. 

as the two of you eat, you find yourself leaning into her presence without thinking. her knee bumps against yours and neither of you moves away. 

“i’ll grab us some more soda,” you say after a while, setting your empty plate on the table and standing.

“don’t get lost,” she teases, her smile lingering as you head toward the kitchen. 

you glance back once, catching the way she watches you leave. it’s subtle, but it’s enough to make you feel like she really adores you.

…

cold air hits your face as you dig past cans of beer and bottles of wine while you shuffle through the fridge. you finally spot the sodas in the back and grab two coke zero’s, but the condensation already makes your hands feel slick and damp. as you shut the door, you hear someone clear their throat.

turning, you come face to face with her. it’s like being hit with a wave you didn’t see coming, but at the same time you were preparing for it. now that it hits you, it’s really chilling. her hair is a little different, her smile just as sharp, and she seems as pretentious as before. you’re surprisingly able to stay calm.

“hey,” you greet sweetly, forcing a casualness into your voice that you don’t feel.

she tilts her head, a little smirk forming. “hey, it’s been a while.” 

“it has,” you reply, gripping the sodas just a little tighter.

before the conversation can turn into something messier, a guy steps up beside her. tall, charming, and really just a face that resembles all the guys that she would compliment while you two were dating. “this is yeonjun, my boyfriend.” she says, her words are slow and deliberate like shes shoved a nail into your skin and twisted it.

you smile tightly, nodding at him. “nice to meet you, i’m an old friend of hers.” 

the air is heavy, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to falter. your hands are damp now, the condensation dripping from the cokes, and you’re wondering how to get out of this.

someone answers your prayers. a warm hand settles on your waist, grounding you instantly when the familiar warmth is recognized. then, soft lips press to your temple. your heart stutters in surprise and your brain malfunctions momentarily. you turn your head slightly, catching the familiar scent of minji’s floral perfume before you can even see her.

“hey, love,” love? that’s a new one, but you can’t say that you hate it—especially when it comes out so naturally from minji. 

she reaches over to take one of the sodas from your hand and when you glance back over to your ex—it looks like someone just slapped her. “minji?”

minji smiles politely,  her hand still resting at your waist, tugging at your waistband not so subtly. “yeah, nice to see you again. i was wondering what was taking y/n so long, i was getting thirsty.” she gives you a soft glance as she chuckles. 

you manage to recover quickly, leaning into her touch. her presence fuels your words, “i was just catching up,” you explain, gesturing toward your ex. “oh, right—you remember minji, don’t you?” you pause for just the right amount of time before looking at her lovingly, adding, “she’s my girlfriend now.”

your ex blinks, surprise evident in her expression. “oh. wow. i didn’t know… you two were—”

“yeah,” you interrupt, turning toward minji with a grin you don’t have to fake. you can’t remember the last time you faked anything with her, really. “she’s amazing. i’m glad we’re together, she’s lovely.”

minji rolls her eyes before moving her hand up to your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “you’re doing that thing again.”

“what?” you question.

“being so fond,” she twirls a piece of your hair with her finger, “you’re too sweet to me.”

“because you’re my girlfriend, idiot.” you giggle right after that, and minji follows. “i’m not lying when i say all those things.” 

minji smiles at you, something mellow and real in her eyes. you can tell she knows exactly what you’re thinking. her hand moves over to cup your cheek briefly before she uses it to open her can of soda. she glances back up at the pair in front of you, your ex and yeonjun, giving them an intimidating glare—directly mainly to your ex. 

“we should get back, jake was asking about you.”

“was he? i guess we should…” you say, glancing at your ex one last time, her expression unreadable now. “it was nice seeing you again.”

minji steers you away, her presence steady and comforting as she leads you with her hand returning to your waist. you don’t miss the way your ex’s gaze lingers on the two of you, but that doesn’t cross your mind anymore. not when minji’s here, leaving you flustered and happier than you’ve ever been.

—

the living room is filled with laughter and conversation when you and minji step back inside. your cheeks are still warm from the cold air outside—or maybe from the conversation you just had, both of you had been reminiscing on how harsh minjis nephew eunwoo can be towards minji. her laugh lingers in your mind, and for a moment you almost forget where you are.

“there you two are!” jake’s voice cuts through the noise, and everyone turns toward you and minji as he gestures for you to join the group. “you’re just in time!”

but then you notice it—the small branch of green hanging above your heads: the mistletoe.

jake grins, wide and mischievous as if this were part of his plan. “looks like you two are under the mistletoe~” jake points out as if he’s a child.

the room quiets, and suddenly, every pair of eyes is on you and minji. your shoulders stiffen and minji’s hand brushes against yours.

you glance at her, and she’s already looking at you, her face flushed but calm. you’d stare for a moment longer, maybe tease her for how cute she looks, but you’re in the spotlight now. there’s something steady in her eyes, like she’s silently saying, it’s okay.

someone whistles, and the teasing murmers start, but they fade into the background when minji tilts her head slightly toward you, her voice low and gentle. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

you shake your head, a small smile forming. “it’s fine,” you whisper back, “it’s just a kiss, right?”

she nods, her expression mirroring yours—reassuring, gentle, and maybe just a little nervous.

and then, without overthinking it, you both lean in. the kiss isn’t hurried or awkward—it’s soft and lingering, not too much but far from a quick peck. your hand brushes against her neck, and for a moment, everything kind of blurs except her.

when you pull back, the room erupts into cheers and coos of “aww,” but you barely hear them. your eyes are still locked on minji’s, her cheeks a shade of pink that you will definitely comment on later.

before you can process anything, her hand comes up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin. she leans in again, this time pressing a brief, tender kiss to your lips. it’s a kiss that’s not influenced by the branch above you, a natural, instinctive kiss that makes your heart stop beating for a bit.

you both pull away, a silent realization settling between you. something’s changed. something you can’t quite name but can sense in her dilated pupils, slight bite of her lip, and bright smile.

“okay, okay, lovebirds. sorry about my cousin and her girlfriend,” jake jokes with a laugh, breaking the moment and taking all the attention off you two. “i just wanted to thank you all for coming.”

his words don’t process, in fact, you don’t really hear much of it because minji’s fingesr slip between yours, warm and steady. as jake continues talking, you glance down at your joined hands and then back at her. 

you squeeze her hands lightly. the feeling is new, but it feels like it’s always been there. it feels good, it feels right.

…

once jake’s speech ends, you catch minji’s eye. there’s longing in her look, she’s asking a silent question and you have the answer. without a word, you grab her hand, weaving through the guests and slipping up the stairs unnoticed—they don’t know your cousin’s hosue like you do.

the hallway is dim, shadows playing on the walls as you pull her to a stop. before she can say anything, you turn, your hands finding her cheeks, and kiss her.

it’s different this time—no crowd and no stupid mistletoe hanging above. it’s just you two. you, and minji, with her lips are pressing against yours softly. she tastes sweet, warm, and familiar, and the way her hands rest under your jawline sends a shiver down your spine.

you pull her closer, hands moving down and pulling at the fabric of her shirt like you’re trying to stop yourself from losing your balance. her lips move against yours in harmony, in sync, and nothing else in the world matters except the two of you in that moment. 

when you two finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily—from kissing so much and from utter shock. minji’s eyes search for yours in the darkness, her lips parting slightly as she catches her breath. “come on,” she murmurs, tugging your hand gently.

she pulls you into a nearby room, and you barely manage to glance around before realizing who’s room it is.

“minji,” you whisper, stifling a laugh, “this is jake’s room.” 

“i could care less,” she cuts you off with another kiss. her lips are insistent, and her hands find your waist again, drawing you closer. “when i kiss you, i just— i can’t help but want to kiss you more and more and more and more.”

her confession is punctuated by kisses–soft, desperate, and consuming. you melt into her, your hands threading through her hair as you let her guide you toward the bed.

she’s nearly on top of you, her legs on either side of yours with he lips trailing to your jaw, then back to your lips. 

“i want to be your real girlfriend,” she whispers nervously. “i want to kiss you like this, be with you, everything.”

you pause, cupping her face in your hands as you pull back just enough to meet her eyes. she looks at you, eyes lidded and vulnerable. your heart swells.

“i want to be your real girlfriend too,” you confess, using your thumb to stroke her cheekbone. “i think this is the best present i’ll ever get.”

she giggles before closing the distance again—instant, radiant, eager— and you can feel her smiling against your lips. 

“should i put a bow on myself and lay under the tree?” she says when she pulls back, but just enough so your lips ghost each other. “to seal the deal.”

“you’re impossible.” you laugh, digging your fingers deeper into her scalp before pecking her quickly. “we should take this to the car… jake will kill me.”

“i think we can settle for a few more kisses.”

“is there a mistletoe constantly hovering over you?”

“no…” minji mutters, “but maybe we could steal the mistletoe and make it happen.”

you roll your eyes at her, but regardless you close the distance once more. and just when you think she can’t be more of an idiot—she proves you wrong.

“and you still owe me dinner, by the way.”

“whatever,” you mumble in adoration, “it’s a date.”

[revelboo]

Oh damn!! Mind if I just explode into particles about the latest Circuits and Wires??

BOOM!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💕💕💕💕💕

I love it so much

Wheeljack’s always been a favorite, just that optimism that’s undiminished no matter how many times his projects literally blow up in his face.

Also: Let’s see how many of these I can update in a day

Circuits and Wires Pt 10

Wheeljack x Reader

• Shifting to sit curled up in his lap, you’re aware of him shifting his arm as if wanting to touch and not sure where is okay. Biting into the inside of your cheek as he struggles, you reach back and pull his arm around you, pressing his big hand against your hip and feeling him shiver under you. Because one of you is going to have to be assertive and you’re almost positive it’s not going to be him. Reaching for his other hand, you pull it to you and play with his servos, fingertips tracing over the softer metal mesh at the inside of his wrist as you lay your head against him.

• You’re so soft and warm against him, he wants to tip your head up. Explore your soft mouth and let his hands wander. Would you let him? Optics dim, he doesn’t dare try to find out. Too afraid of being rejected or ruining this. Glossa sliding against his bottom lip remembering the feel of your mouth on his, he flexes his servos when you run your fingertips against the inside of them. And you look up at him, head against his shoulder. Slowly, he presses his palm to yours, intertwining his servos with your fingers, the difference in how much smaller your little hands is, shocking. Even mass displaced, you’re so delicate compared to him. And a part of him thrills at that difference.

• Breath catching as you stare at your hand trapped in his much bigger one and feel the servos of the hand on your hip flex against you. Making you wonder what those big hands would feel like on you. “I keep thinking I’m going to break you,” he says, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Embarrassed? About breaking you? Why would he even-oh. Heat spilling through you, his awkwardness twists, takes on a new meaning. Not even sure how that would work between you two. Though, those big fingers could be put to use. And now the thought is there as your face heats.

• Head ducking against him as he catches a glimpse of how red your face just got, he frowns. “I promise you won’t break me,” you mutter, avoiding looking at him as your fingers squeeze his. Venting, he absently rubs against your hip and rests his chin on top of your head. Loving the feel of you against him and not quite believing that he’s allowed this much.

• “I hope not. I like having you around,” he says as you cringe. Because nope. It’s going right over his handsome, dense head unless you spell it out for him. Maybe he’d hadn’t meant it that way after all. And asking about it? Bluntly telling him that you’re interested in him that way? You’d rather curl up and die of embarrassment right now. So you’re right back to square one, you too shy and him too damn oblivious.

Previous

I am all motors and gadgets

Organically designed to last a finite length of time

Locked in this rotary motion, the wheel spins round and round

I comprehend it all but still can't make a sound

I know there's something wrong within my faulty brain

I lack the proper behavior

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even think you know the reason

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even try to understand

I am all circuits and wires

Conducting symphonies of heat exchange energies

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Can you imagine sitting on Blue's lap and doing his eyeliner in the morning? The way he'd stare at you?? 😩💗

Ohhhhh nooooooooooooooooo, this gave me so many (too many) thoughts, I am so sorry it turned into this <3

Manners

Blue Jones x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Warnings: Blue being a grumpy little shit, sub!Blue a bit, Blue having a think for being choked, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 411

“Sit still.”

“I am.”

“Are not.”

Blue scowls at you, wrinkling his nose ever so slightly in disdain. “I don’t like your tone.” 

“Yes, you do.” You answer without pause and shift a little on his lap, your knees are either side of his thighs, the smoky kohl eyeliner in one hand. 

His frown deepens and you tut, rolling your eyes at his theatrics. 

“You could do this yourself, you know?” You take hold of his chin with your free hand, your grip firm and fingers cool as you tilt his head a fraction so you can work without his constant fidgeting. 

You expect a snappy retort, or rude word, but get neither. For a blissfully long moment, he’s surprisingly quiet. And still. 

His heartbeat thunders under your fingers, his breathing short and shallow as if he’s trying his best to stay as silent as possible. His lips are parted as you press the pencil to his skin, just lightly skimming with the softest touch. 

“I’m not going to poke your eyes out, you know?” You tease. 

“I know.” He says softly, his eyes flicker to your face for a second and it’s only now that you pay full attention that you can see how dark and dilated they are. 

“Well, you’re tense as fuck,” you swallow, trying to focus on doing his makeup. “Acting like I’ve got a knife to your throat.” 

He gulps audibly and you spare him a glance. He holds your gaze, but it’s not full of the defiant arrogance you’re used to. 

“Do you want me to hold a knife to your throat?” You tease lightly, trying to cover your own interest. 

“Fuck off.” He bites back, but his words are lacking his usual snarl. 

You grin. “I think you do actually, I think you’d quite like for me to pin you down and-”

He grumbles loudly, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his face into your chest. In turn, forcing his throat further into your hand. He bites back a moan as you hold back a chuckle. 

After a few moments, you can’t resist antagonising him further. “Want me to choke you while I jack you off?” 

Blue snaps his head back so that he can give you one of his trademark glares - it would be menacing if you weren’t so used to it by now. 

“Yes.” He purses his lips when you quirk an eyebrow at him, and then huffs. “Please.” 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces

 @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin

@reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr 

@spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 

@sub-aro @killerdollz @maplemind  @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist 

@dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious @homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop 

@oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 

@pigeonmama @marcsb1tch @iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan

 @faretheeoscar @lonelyisamyw-0love  @queerponc @twwcs @Spnwhore2430 

@ominoose @ierofrnkk @have-you-seen-my-sanity @to-be-a-sunshine @blushingrn 

@missdictatorme @musicalnacho @ingoldthewizard

@krakenkitty  @purple-amaranthe @marcsb1tch @wilder-fangirl

@howellatme @mystic-writings @f0url3af @sapphossongbird @buckyssugarchick

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[lemonlimestar]

timmed konne 18?

ignoring the date on this ask for my own sanity. merry crimah rimi…

18 | “Can I join you?”

Tim adjusts the bow on his tiny package for the umpteenth time, trying to think up an excuse to linger outside of the door longer. ‘He’ll either like it or he won’t,’ he tells himself, ‘Get over yourself, Drake.’

Tentatively, he raises two fingers to rap at the door. “Come in!” Kon’s voice rings out before his hand even makes contact. Of course he would know Tim was standing out here all this time. Accepting his fate, he shuffles inside.

Kon is sitting at his makeshift vanity (a funky-looking mirror propped up on his desk) surrounded by various makeup products Cissie “let him borrow” and earrings that have no matches. They’re only going to a small holiday get-together with their friends in a few hours, and Kon has been making a desperate attempt at seeming nonchalant about the whole deal; Tim knew as soon as he slipped off to change his outfit that something was up.

“Hey.” Tim greets.

Kon finishes smoothing out the color painted on his lips with a ‘pop’ sound. He frowns at his reflection. “Sup.”

Tim knows his kneejerk response of ‘what’s wrong?’ will only be deflected. So instead, “Can I join you?”

Kon meets his eyes in the mirror. “Go ahead.”

A beanbag chair pulls itself over from the corner of the room for Tim to sit in. He sinks into it with a sigh, making sure his package isn’t jostled. He taps Kon’s foot with his own. “You look nice.”

Turning around in his chair, Kon squints at him. “Don’t lie.”

“Why would I?” Tim asks, smug as he deliberately trails his eyes down Kon’s outfit—a bulky sweater that cuts off to reveal the bottom half of the dress that hugs his hips in a way that forced Tim to rely on discrete breathing exercises when he first saw it. He makes a face in response that tells Tim that his ogling worked.

“Well,” he clears his throat, “Thank you. I just—I can’t get the makeup right. I can’t tell if it’s too neat or whatever.” He pauses, taps his fingers against the desk. “Yeah, I’ll blend more.”

Tim rises out of the beanbag to scoot in closer, sets his chin beside Kon’s arm. “More glitter usually makes you feel better.” He reminds him. The box—still in hand—almost begs to be gifted, but he can wait a little longer; he needs the perfect moment.

“It’s not about me feeling better, it’s about me looking better.” Kon mumbles. He faces Tim again. “So, how do I look now?”

Peering down at him, haloed by over-bright lamp light, eyes adorned with faded, pale blues, Kon’s even more of a sight than usual. Tim’s never been a flowery language guy, so he goes for blunt. “You’re gorgeous, you know that.”

Kon sputters, stutters, and presses his lips shut. If Tim touched a hand to his face, he’s sure he’d be burning up. “Oh. That’s… nice.” He eventually gets out, rather than a typical “Aw, Robbie, you gotta crush on me?” That’s how Tim really knows he got him.

Tim sets his free hand on Kon’s thigh, massaging the tension there. “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Great. Awesome.” Kon sets his hand atop Tim’s, squeezes. Then, his tone sheepish as he questions, “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

Tim scoffs. “When have I ever ‘just said’ something?” He reaches up to cup Kon’s cheek, smiling when Kon melts into the touch.

He really does look stunning, his curls—venturing toward chin length—framing his face, his broad shoulders still defined through the heavy material of his sweater. Kon seemed uncharacteristically anxious as he explained that he wanted to try something new earlier today; Carefully, cautiously, he’d placed his heart in Tim’s hands in an entirely new way, and Tim intends to put his all into taking care of it.

“Although… I will say, the look is missing something.” Before Kon’s expression can fully shift, Tim drops the box in his lap.

At a snail’s pace, Kon undoes the ribbon. The top is gently set onto the desk, then Kon pulls out the pair of dangly, dropped-shaped, turquoise earrings. He rotates them back and forth, completely silent. Kon is almost never silent. Shit.

“One is a clip-on,” Tim starts up,” If you ever wanted to wear both. Or, you can wear neither. Uh. It was just something I randomly thought of. And I know how you feel about your earring, so if you don’t want it—“

“Tim.”

“—I totally get it! It’s not a huge deal. You’ve just, y’know, been trying new stuff and I wanted to be supportive—“

“Tim.”

“—I should’ve asked first. Final. I shouldn’t have sprang this on you; I knew I should’ve just kept it at that deluxe Wendy boxset—“

“Tim.” Kon grabs him by the shoulders, now level to him on the floor. He has the earrings on, Tim notices. “Stop talking.” Then he kisses him.

It’s more passionate than expected, but he’s not complaining. One of Kon’s hands tangles in his hair as their heads tilt to better slot their mouths together, and Tim wraps his arms around his waist. After a few seconds or several, the hand buried in Tim’s hair pulls him back to break the kiss. Tim almost complains until he sees the look on Kon’s face.

“You’re the best, Rob. I love them.” He traces Tim’s bottom lip with his thumb, kisses him again for a moment.

“I’m,” he takes a deep inhale, “I’m glad to hear that. I was hoping you would.”

“Are you kidding? These are sick! I’ll never take ‘em off.” Kon decides, nodding. Tim raises an eyebrow at him. “…Okay, that’s probably unrealistic. I’ll add one to my uniform.”

Tim mentally fist pumps. Knocked it out of the ballpark with this one. “Sounds great.” Tim leans back in, eager to test the longevity of that lipstick.

So what they end up being half an hour late to the party, and Tim gets heckled for the lipstick stain he couldn’t get out of his shirt, all that matters to him is the smile stuck to Kon’s face.

[nickgurl4life]

✦PAGES✦ chapter one

Pairings: nerd!matt x popular!reader

CW: for this chapter is just fluff, just their first time talking, but tutoring and soft flirting are in here if you care :)

Summary: popular!reader asks nerd!matt for tutoring lessons and when she arrives at his house for the lessons, she's a bit more flirty and open, what will happen between the two?

Announcement: This is my first ever series! So I really hope you guys will enjoy it :)

CHAPTER 2

He was in awe, straight up ogling over you. But he knows he doesn't have a chance. You're the prettiest, sweetest, most popular girl in school, and he's, well, him. He watches from his spot at the lunch table, and you perched on top of the seat by the "popular" seats as they all call it. You chat away with friends, and he almost squeals as you lock eyes with him. His face flushes red at the sight of your gorgeous eyes meeting his ice blue orbs. When he looks up to check if your still looking, he blushes more as he sees you still looking, raising a hand, he waves shyly then looks down immediately as you reciprocate it. He hears your voice faintly then notices you start to approach. He starts to mentally curse himself and forces a smile when you mutter a soft, sweet hello. "Hey- uh...can I, can I help you?" He asks softly and you chuckle. "May I sit?" You question as you gesture to the empty seat next to him.

"U-uhm-" he nods as he scoots to offer a bit of extra space. He watches as you sit down, the small expand in your thighs, the tiny arch in your back, the way your backside expa- "Hey? You with me?" You ask with a soft chuckle as his face floods with redness as you mention his zoned out expression. "Yeah- sorry uh....if I may ask, why did you wanna sit with me?" He inquires with a tilt of his head. "Oh! Right I was wondering if you could tutor me in math. My grade is low and I'm struggling bad-" You retort with soft flushed cheeks. He smiles, finding your small bit of embarrassment cute. "Yeah, if your fine doing it at my house cause I usually do better in my own homely environment" he replys with a nod as you nod as well. "Okay, meet me in the school parking lot and I can drive you to my house..." he says softly and you nod, getting up and returning to your original table. God he can't wait till schools over now.

-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-

It was last period, and as soon as the ball rang, signaling schools ended. He grabbed his books and papers, darting out the classroom to his locker. He places his stuff in his locker in an organized manner, slipping his bag over his arm and walking out of the building towards his car where he sees you, sat on the bench on the sidewalk near the parking lot. "Hey!" He says with a high wave to signal him. He chuckles at your reaction, a small gasp but a smile growing as you jog over. "Okay, you ready?" He questions, and when you nod, he leads you to his car, casually opening the door for you without thinking. When you sat inside his vehicle, he shut the door and round the car to get into the driver's seat. His hand inserts the key into the ignition, turning it as the car starts. He pulls out of the parking spot, and before you know it, you're down the road. You can't keep your eyes off his hands, the veins exposed from his tight grip on the wheel, the way he casually drives is hot to you. No, not him? Why are you ogling the nerd of all people, damn it, you need to stop. You are pulled out of your thoughts at the soft call of your name. "Hey? You okay, you zoned out~" Matt mentions as he pulls into his driveway.

-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-

It has been about an hour since you and him arrived, and all you hear is "blah blah blah" when he talks. You never thought you'd be in awe of the schools nerd, but something about him just makes you wanna shove the book off his lap and smash your lips on his. "Hey? Did you write that down?" He asks as he taps the equation on the paper. "Oh- uh yeah...one second," you nod as you quickly copy down the problem. "Has anyone ever told you that you look cute in glasses?" You compliment without thinking, and when it clicks in your head, you go red, matching Matt's face as well. "Uh, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to say that I-" You stutter out in embarrassment. "Hey, uh- y-your, fine, I just...wasnt- expecting that?" He reassures shakily with a small chuckle. "Let's just uh- get back to work." He says as he looks back down to the thick textbook on his lap. "But uh...thank you- and uh...you are really pretty-" he mumbles in a barely audible tone, but you still hear him, both of you red as a tomato. "But uh, let's just keep working..." you mumble and you both nod. It may not feel like it but this might just end differently than both of you thought.

-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-

It's now the next day at school, throughout the morning you both exchange small glances in the halls. It has now hit lunchtime and he's is in shock when you sit your tray on the lunch table and sit down next to him. Why weren't you sat with the popular kids? "Uh, hey~" Hey says softly, praying he doesn't mess this up, nor make you uncomfortable. "Hi, uh I know I should've asked before I sat down but...may I sit?" You ask with a chuckle. "Yeah I don't mind at all" he chuckles as he takes a bit of his food. "Okay, thanks...my friends are being dicks so, figured I'd sit here~" you admit with a sigh, making him frown a bit. "Why? What did they do?" He tilts his head. "Oh they are just making fun of me for talking with you and shit but it's fine." You take a bite of your food, him doing the same. "Well, I wouldn't mind if you hung out with me more~" he admits with a grin and you reciprocate it. "I'd love to hang out more Matt, it'd be fun" you chuckle as his cheeks go bright red. "Well uh...same time for tutoring?" He nods, "yeah, same time works, just meet me in the parking lot again" he smiles, watching you stand up and leaving the lunchroom. He doesn't mind being your tutor, hell, maybe he might get a relationship out of it cause of how it's going but he can never be sure~

-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-✦-

Hi guys! So this was chapter one, there will be many more but I hope you like this. Again this is my first series so it won't be super long as I'm still working on the lots of writing bit I hope you enjoy it loves🫶🏻

Dividers by me :)

Tags: @emely9274 @pvssychicken @mattsslutt @chrislilcumslvt @cupiidk1lls @loud-sturniolos @p14th0mps0n @3xclus1vel0v3r @bilssturns @nateismybf @chrissweetheart @jassturn @kaybug88 @kennastromboli @goingtojohnkramershouseee @matthewsroses @sweetshuga

[maretinelli]

FATAL ACCIDENT

Oscar Piastri X driver!fem!reader

Summary: When Oscar goes to watch Y/n's last race, the last thing he would imagine was that his girlfriend's car would start to roll over in the last laps.

Words: 7K+

Warnings: Established relationship, Oscar and Y/n pilots, accident, blood, bruises, injury, hospital, anguish, coma, but happy ending.

Author: English is not my first language, there may be mistakes, I'm sorry. And that's it, cry a little while reading.

MASTERLIST

Y/n was inside her motorhome, trying to close the back zipper of her racing suit while staring at the mirror, but with a concentration on the memories of yesterday.

The zipper resisted, as did the knot that insisted on tightening her chest. Every time she tried to take a deep breath, it felt like the air was getting stuck in her throat. Her hands were shaking, something she couldn't let show on the dance floor.

Yesterday was a tense day for the women at the Formula 1 Academy. One of the drivers ended up flipping her car during her qualifying session, forcing her to end up in the hospital due to her injuries. Not to mention that after that, Yin's teammate had crashed into the wall, but luckily, she came out unharmed.

In her mind, the image repeated itself in a cruel loop: Hillary's car rolling, the tires burning against the asphalt, the dry sound of the impact on the wall. Then, silence. The kind of silence that chilled the blood.

"Hey, my dear? What's going on in your head?" Oscar comes up behind his girlfriend, helping her close her jumpsuit and placing his chin on her shoulder, so he can see in the mirror.

"I was going to say nothing, but...the scene of Hillary spinning on the track yesterday haunts me." She says with a sigh, turning to face her boyfriend.

Oscar gives a small smile and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I don't know how to explain it...but I don't feel well today, maybe because of everything that happened yesterday...I don't know..." she says softly, with her arms on Oscar's shoulders.

Piastri hadn't seen the accident on the track yesterday, his flight had been delayed and he only arrived at dinner time. But as a Formula 1 driver, he knew very well how his girlfriend felt. The fear of it happening to her too.

"I understand you, and you don't need to pretend that everything is fine. I know how much an accident can affect us," Oscar tries to reassure.

"I just wanted to try to forget that scene for a little while... The sound of the crash, her car crushed and her not responding gives me chills." Y/n sighs and closes her eyes, laying on her boyfriend's left shoulder. "...I'm just scared...I'm scared it'll happen to me too..." she says in a muffled voice.

Oscar shudders.

"Hey, honey! That won't happen to you. I know how great of a driver you are and I know you can dodge any problem that comes your way." He kisses her shoulder. "And what's more! I'm here, I may not be on the track with you, but I'll be protecting you just the same." Oscar pulls Yin to look into her eyes, she smiles in relief.

Having Oscar there was like Y/n was on cloud nine and was on a sedative. She felt safe with Oscar around. And well, Oscar is Oscar. Calm, serious, centered. He's the perfect man for anyone.

"I love you!"

"I love you more!" Oscar pulls Y/n into a kiss before they can leave the motorhome to go to the garage.

The kiss was soft, but full of meaning, as if Oscar wanted to convey a calm that he himself did not have.

When the youngest arrived at the garage, about three engineers started talking at the same time about her car, she just let go of Oscar's hand with a shy smile, he just whispered 'you can go, I'll be here!' before smiling sweetly and watching Y/n from afar, the impeccable overalls hugging her body as she gestured and listened attentively to the mechanics.

Oscar was tense too, but of course, he wouldn't tell Y/n and make her more nervous than she already was. But in the last week, four nights in a row he dreamed about his girlfriend flipping the car too, but the only thing different in the dreams was the setting, each day she was in a different place. Track, road, highway and on the street that gave access to their apartment. All horrible dreams that made Oscar wake up scared and check if Y/n was okay, while she slept soundly next to him in the shared bed of their apartment in Monaco.

He was still lost in thought when Yin came up beside him smiling, "Hey, did you ride the train of thought?" She poked his chest and he laughed.

"Just thinking about where to take you on a date after you win the race," he teases, holding her waist. She blushes shyly, making Oscar laugh. "After all these years you still blush at my flirting?" He teases again.

Y/n rolls her eyes laughing. "Of course, Oscar Piastri, McLaren Formula 1 driver is flirting with me!" She jokes, making them both laugh.

The time had come, the chief engineer of Y/n's car alerted her, asking her to get ready to get in the car and go position herself on the grid. She felt her heart race and Oscar noticed when her smile fell, he moved his hands to her cheeks, making his girlfriend look.

"It's okay! You're going to rock it like always. And I'll be here to celebrate with you in a few hours." He smiles, kissing her forehead.

Y/n took a deep breath, but her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted her gloves. The balaclava felt tighter than usual. Her ear muffs were too small that day, as if every little detail wanted to remind her of the pressure of the moment.

Piastri takes her helmet and holds it, waiting for his girlfriend to finish putting on her equipment. As soon as he sees her with everything ready, he approaches and takes the helmet to her, Y/n smiles with her eyes. "Thank you, love."

Y/n puts on her helmet and gets into the car, before any engineer could put the steering wheel in place, Oscar leans over and kisses the top of her helmet.

The kiss on the helmet was a ritual of theirs, a kind of silent amulet that seemed to guarantee that everything would be okay. The muffled sound of the touch echoed in her ear, bringing an inexplicable comfort. To Oscar, it was his way of promising that he would always be by her side, even when she was alone on the track.

He bends down: "Don't worry!! Nothing bad will happen and if it does, I'm here!! I'll always be here for you!" Y/n holds his hand, a little tighter than usual.

Oscar smiles and gives the mechanics permission, already putting his headphones on.

Within seconds, Y/n was pulling out of the garage. Oscar stood in the driveway, arms crossed and staring at the car as it drove away. He felt a pang of emptiness as her figure disappeared around the bend. The roar of the engine sounded like distant thunder, mixing with the pounding in his chest. He knew that now all he could do was wait and hope that his nightmares wouldn't come true.

Y/n was lined up in P3 on the grid, watching intently as the red lights went out, until an alarming sound signaled them to start. The youngest had a flawless start, taking P2 on the first corner.

"Hey Y/n, good job!" His chief engineer says over the radio and Oscar who was standing in front of the monitor, smiles proudly at his girlfriend.

But he still had a twinge of nervousness in his chest, he also knew how unpredictable that sport was.

Over the next few laps, Y/n began closing the gap on the leader, waiting for the perfect moment to attack. On lap ten, as they entered the main straight again, she used the slipstream to gain speed and made the pass on the edge of the corner. The move was clean and decisive, and the team radio exploded with celebration.

"Leadership!! Leadership!!" One of them exclaimed energetically over the radio, making Y/n smile inside the car and Oscar in the garage.

As the race progressed, Y/n began to open up an impressive lead. At 20 seconds behind the second-place finisher, she seemed uncatchable.

The people in the garage were bursting with happiness, while Oscar, with his arms crossed tensely, watched his girlfriend's every move on the television screen. He was happy with her position, but flashes of his dreams began to appear more frequently in the pilot's mind.

Now with only fifteen laps to go and the lead in her hands, Y/n began to feel something strange in the car. At first, it was a slight vibration in the steering wheel, almost imperceptible. She pressed her lips together under her helmet, ignoring the discomfort. But the vibration got worse, especially as she made the turn, feeling the car skidding on the track.

Apparently the engineers hadn't noticed anything wrong, but Oscar, more than experienced in this matter, frowned and tried to alert the garage staff.

"Hey, did you guys see that? Looks like she's having some trouble with the car."

The engineer shook his head, checking the numbers. "Everything looks normal here, Oscar. Maybe it's just steering adjustment."

"No. It's not normal." He pointed at the screen, his tone growing more tense. "Look how unstable the front of the car looks. She never takes turns like that. Something's wrong, you need to tell her."

Oscar was right and before any engineers could make any decisions, Y/n began trying to communicate via radio.

"There's...something...with the car..." Her voice cracks over the radio.

Oscar immediately tried to press the headphones tighter into his ears, thinking that maybe he hadn't heard correctly.

"Y/n, repeat, we're having audio difficulties," the engineer said over the radio, trying to remain calm.

"Something...car..." the voice came out broken again.

Y/n began to feel the car shake uncontrollably, evident on the monitors, and the steering wheel that had previously seemed firm in her hands was now vibrating violently.

"Damn it!" She screamed, trying to steady the car.

Now with only 10 seconds of difference to the second placed rider, Oscar started to get more tense, nervous and sweating cold. It was as if his worst nightmare had come true.

He quickly turns to the chief engineer: "Tell her to slow down..." he tries to warn. "NOW!!"

Most turn to Piastri, seeing the boy turn pale.

"We're trying, Oscar, but she needs to confirm the problem first." The engineer says, pressing the button to try to communicate with Y/n inside the car. "Y/n, can you hear us?...Y/n??" She doesn't respond.

Oscar saw it before anyone else. He straightened, his heart racing. "She's going to lose control!"

Sweat began to trickle down Y/n’s forehead, mixing with the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Something was wrong. She knew it. But she couldn’t explain it, couldn’t articulate the words over the radio. It was as if the car itself was collapsing under her control.

"Guys...FUCK!!" The only things they hear on the woman's radio.

That's when it happened. The car swayed violently on the straight, from left to right, before reaching the curve and hitting a wall. The impact was brutal. The metallic sound of the beat echoed through the headphones and across the dance floor. The car bounced off the barrier and, in an instant that seemed to last an eternity, began to roll over. Once, twice, three times, before stopping upside down, with parts of the fairing scattered across the asphalt.

It all happened too fast. Y/n’s world turned upside down—literally. Her seatbelt held her in place as the car rolled over. The sound of metal twisting and glass shattering was deafening. Each roll seemed to knock the air from her lungs as she fought to stay conscious.

Oscar froze. The world around him seemed to move in slow motion as he watched Yin’s car spin through the air. The scream caught in his throat, his eyes fixed on the screen as if he could stop the inevitable. All he wanted was to hear her voice. To know that she was okay.

The garage fell silent. The sound of the crash still echoed through everyone's headphones, and the air felt suffocating.

"Y/N?? CAN YOU HEAR ME? The team leader tries again, but nothing but a hiss comes from the woman's radio. Oscar can feel each second dragging by as they wait for news.

Some engineers dropped their headphones, putting their hands on their heads when they couldn't hear the pilot's voice.

The red flag was waving and paramedics were rushing to the scene of the accident, carrying fire extinguishers and rescue equipment. And that's when Oscar came to his senses, when Y/n didn't move or give any sign that she was okay. The radio was silent, and the broadcast camera showed his girlfriend's helmet tilted. Oscar felt his heart stop.

Quickly ripping the headphones out of his ears — almost breaking them. Piastri starts walking quickly to get out of the garage, until someone grabs him by the shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey!" One of the engineers holds him back. "You can't go there, let the doctors help!"

"I can't just stand here when my girlfriend is between life and death!" He says angrily because they won't let him leave.

"You don't..."

"YES I CAN!!!" Oscar shouted, running away from there.

The curve that Y/n crashed into was not close to the pits, so Piastri ran for several meters until he managed to get close to some suspicious movement on the track.

Oscar arrived at the scene with his lungs burning and his heart racing. The scene in front of him was a nightmare, the dreaded nightmare he had had in those times: Y/n's car, destroyed, with paramedics and the rescue team struggling to remove her from the wreckage.

For a moment, everything passed in slow motion in Piastri's vision, the seconds seemed like hours and it seemed like people didn't move to help his girlfriend in the middle of those irons.

He comes back to reality when someone runs past with the stretcher and bumps into him.

"Sorry!"

Oscar runs a little further to the accident site: "Y/N!! Y/N!!" he screams, feeling his lungs burn more.

The air burned in his lungs, but he didn't even notice the pain. His legs felt like they were about to give out at any moment, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop, not while she needed him.

The moment he approached, Y/n was being pulled out from under the car and placed on the stretcher. When they took off her helmet, Oscar saw his girlfriend's entire face, bloody, pale and with drops of sweat.

Piastri felt tears fall and his knees give out as he tried to get closer.

One of the paramedics saw Oscar and tried to get him to stay back. Meanwhile, the people in the stands were completely silent, some were crying, others were sitting with their hands on their heads and others left so as not to see the state of the driver.

"Hey, see! I need you to stay back, we're removing her and this could complicate her case!" The doctor says sympathetically.

Oscar shakes his head and tries to walk forward. "She's my girlfriend!"

The paramedic's eyes widened slightly and exchanged glances with the rescue team.

"Well...let's tell the truth then! She is in a very critical condition, but fortunately she is alive. She may have multiple fractures and a concussion." The doctor is sincere and Piastri can feel the ground open up a little more under his feet.

With that, her helmet fell from a stretcher and rolled across the floor until it came to rest at Oscar's feet. The personalized design—her number next to a drawing of her favorite constellation—made him feel a stab in the chest.

He bends down and presses the object against his chest.

A little further ahead, they put the oxygen mask on the woman and walked to the ambulance, Oscar started running again, leaving the paramedic talking to himself.

“Y/N!”

The rescue team holds him by the shoulders. "Hey, hey!" Oscar stops, still watching them carry Y/n unconscious.

"I have to go, it's my girlfriend. IT'S MY LIFE!"

"I understand. But you can't go with her in the ambulance, we need space because of her critical injuries. We're taking her to the nearest hospital." One of them says and Oscar nods in agreement. "Just be careful driving..." The team warns, as it was obvious that Oscar would find a way to get there.

The ambulance doors slam shut with a loud bang that rings in Oscar’s ears like a gunshot. He stands still, his eyes fixed on the siren as it rapidly retreats, until silence envelops him like a suffocating current. He finally moves, stumbling toward the car Y/n had rented for them for the weekend.

The key was in her trailer, along with her purse. Oscar takes everything on impulse and runs out to drive to the hospital.

During the journey, tears ran violently down the driver's cheeks. At each red light he stopped at, memories of Y/n and him flashed through his mind: The sweet smile she gave when Oscar said he fell in love with her every day, how her eyes shone when she was inside a racetrack, their conversations in bed late at night. Everything flashed through his head.

The hospital was lit coldly and impersonally, a cruel contrast to the chaos and heat of his mind. He nearly knocked over the objects on the reception desk as he approached, his words coming out in a rush and jumble: "My girlfriend... accident... Y/n... Is she here yet? Please, I need to know."

He clutched Y/n's bag to his chest as if it were an anchor to reality, leaning on the counter to communicate with the nurse.

"Accident at the racetrack?!" A nurse asks and he nods in agreement. "Yeah, it was about five minutes ago. They took him straight to the operating room." She looks at the system and then back at Oscar. "Is he her husband?"

Oscar hesitated for a split second. He wasn't her husband, but her boyfriend... her boyfriend for years, the man who knew Y/n meant everything to him. Still, this wasn't the time for technical corrections. He nodded quickly, his words choked out in a rush.

"Yes, I am."

"Okay! You can wait in the room next door," she said calmly, while Oscar was shaking and sweating coldly. Before he walked away, she looked at the bag underneath him. "Hey... do you have her documents with you? Just to register them in the system faster!"

Oscar nodded and, with trembling fingers, opened Y/n's bag. He rummaged through it until he found her wallet and the necessary documents. He handed them along with his to the nurse, who quickly entered them into the system. She handed the papers back to him with a comforting smile that he didn't even notice. Her gaze was fixed on the floor, her hands still shaking.

"That's right. Thank you."

Oscar mumbled a thank you, tried to smile, but failed miserably. He walked away, heading for the waiting room she had indicated.

The room was white and cold, making Oscar shiver as he sat in one of the hospital chairs. The space was reasonably large, with a space for children to play while they waited for appointments, doctors, and tests. Oscar lowered his head, looking at his girlfriend's bag on his lap.

Trying to distract his mind from the agonizing wait, he opened his bag, thinking about organizing it or looking for something that could help. That's when he saw it.

First, a small folded envelope with her name written in her handwriting. He pulled out the paper and opened it with trembling hands. It was one of the little letters he wrote himself and left for her when he left the apartment early.

"Good morning, my love. I know today is going to be a busy day, but I just wanted to remind you how lucky I am to have you in my life. You make me want to be better every day. I can't wait to see you tonight. I love you - Osc."

Oscar pressed his lips together, holding back the sob that threatened to escape. His hands shook as he flipped through the items in his bag, and he could feel cold sweat trickling down the back of his neck. The air felt heavy, each breath labored, as if fear were squeezing his chest.

Deeper in his bag, he found a Polaroid of the two of them. The photo had been taken at a random moment, on the couch at her mother's house. He was holding her by the shoulder, smiling shyly, while she made an adorable face with her tongue out. On the back, a note written by Y/n: "Our favorite moment: together."

He ran his thumb over the photo, tears falling uncontrollably now. He didn't even try to hide them.

Finally, he found her phone. The screen locked with the wallpaper of a photo taken on a trip to the snow, in which Y/n kissed him on the cheek while he smiled, red from shyness and cold. It was a sweet reminder of how she always made him feel loved, even in the simplest moments.

He leans on his knees and lets the sobs escape his body, while tightly holding the things Y/n kept from them.

"Please...stay with me...stay with me" He said between sobs.

From the counter, one of the nurses gave him a worried look. They were used to seeing suffering there, but something about the young man’s vulnerability struck them. An older nurse approached with a bottle of water, but stopped halfway, hesitating, respecting his space.

The seconds seemed like minutes, minutes turned into hours and the hours didn't pass. Oscar had been in the waiting room for about 5 hours, he had already given news to his family, friends and team, and now he prayed that a doctor would come to bring him good news.

Finally, a man in pajamas and a surgical cap appeared in the large room, looking around and seeing only a young man sitting there. When Oscar noticed, his body sat up straight in the uncomfortable chair.

"Y/n Y/s's companion?" The doctor approaches Oscar.

"Yes, me!" He says, standing up and leaving her bag on the chair, greeting the doctor with a firm handshake.

The doctor took a deep breath before answering, and Oscar felt the ground shake beneath his feet, as if the fate of his life depended on his next words.

"First of all. Mr Pias... Piastri right?" The doctor looks at the file and Oscar nods. "I mean your girlfriend is alive!"

Oscar felt the air leave his lungs at the speed of light. But that crushing sensation was still there, there was something else for the doctor to say and Oscar knew it.

"She is in critical condition. She suffered multiple fractures - arms, ribs and one of her legs and had a severe blow to the head, which resulted in a traumatic brain injury." The doctor said seriously and Oscar felt tears coming back to his eyes.

"Trauma? Is... is it serious? She... she'll wake up, right?" He asks in distress.

"Right now, she's in an induced coma. This is to stabilize her body and allow us to treat her injuries more safely. The good news is that her vital signs are stable, and she's responding well to the first procedures." The surgeon places a hand on Oscar's shoulder, causing the younger man to sigh and release a sob stuck in his throat.

"But she'll wake up, right? She'll be okay?"

The doctor sighs, not wanting to give him false hope, but also not wanting to make him worry.

"It's too early to predict. An induced coma is a controlled procedure, but we need to wait to assess brain damage. Each case is unique, and recovery time may vary. The important thing now is to give her body time to recover."

Oscar nods in agreement, letting the tears fall.

"I know this is very difficult to hear, but the important thing to remember is that she is alive and responding well to the procedures already performed. We will monitor her closely!" The doctor smiles and Oscar wipes away tears. "And a crucial medicine for her is emotional support! She will need you by her side!"

"Of course, of course! I wouldn't dare leave her alone here," Oscar says quickly.

"She is in good hands. The hospital itself is a reference. We will take good care of your little girl."

Oscar held his breath at those words. His little girl. He felt a rush of emotion so strong it almost made him falter. A small, shaky smile escaped his lips after hours of pure tension. Even in the midst of chaos, hearing that felt like a promise that there was still hope.

"She's in a room in the ICU, but we can let you stay with her." The doctor says softly, placing a hand on the pilot's shoulder again, as a gesture of comfort.

Oscar nodded quickly, clutching her bag tightly to his chest as if it were a lucky charm. He stood up, ready to follow the doctor.

The white walls seemed to close in around him, the sound of his footsteps echoing along with the distant murmurs of nurses and monitors. He had his bag slung over his shoulder, gripping it tightly as he stepped out of the elevator and walked behind the doctor. The scenes of her car overturning still made a point of playing in his mind on a loop.

"Here we are. I'll leave you alone. If there's anything, just call a nurse using the button next to her bed, or go to the nurse's station here at the end of the hallway," the doctor says, pointing to the place and leaves, leaving Oscar paralyzed for a moment in front of the door of the room where Y/n was.

He took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of fear and relief. Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The sound of the heart monitor filled the room immediately, the steady rhythm almost reassuring, though he felt each beat like a punch to his chest.

There she was, lying on a bed that seemed enormous around her frail body. Oscar stopped suddenly, the air escaping from his lungs in a silent sob. She was surrounded by wires, tubes, and bandages. Her face was pale, with small cuts and scratches visible, but clean of the blood from before, and her arm and leg were in a cast, supported by a suspended frame.

But it was her. It was still her.

He dropped his bag on the armchair and walked a few steps until he stopped next to her bed, letting the tears fall.

Piastri lightly touches his girlfriend's hand with his finger, afraid of hurting her. "Hey, love..." He whispered, his voice shaking, trying to sound strong, even though he felt like he was falling apart.

He finally let his hand rest on hers, cold to the touch, but still alive: "You're here! You're alive!" Oscar sobs. "I was so afraid of losing you..." He kneels beside the bed and cries. A cry that seemed to have been kept for years.

He let his feelings take over.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Oscar and Y/n were in the office of their apartment, with the computers in the French class and books and notebooks on their desk.

"I want a... umm... croissant and coffee?" Y/n reads with a serious expression.

"You're ordering coffee and croissants like it's a life or death mission." Oscar laughs, holding a book in his hands as well.

The video lesson was already ending, while Oscar and Y/n were still trying to pronounce the first sentence the teacher said.

"Alright, my turn now!" Oscar says and chooses a sentence in the book, he reads it mentally and looks at his girlfriend to try to pronounce it. "Je suis... une baguette?"

Y/n burst out laughing.

"You just said it's a baguette!"

"Well, I'm Australian, I can be whatever I want. Including a baguette." He says amusedly, with a smile on his face as he watches his girlfriend laugh at the next table.

"If it depends on our French, we will die of hunger in Paris.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The Piastri house was radiant with Christmas decorations. The yard was lit up, the garlands on the windows, and even Thilly's house, the family's golden retriever, was decorated with lights and a giant red bow on the roof.

In the kitchen, Y/N was helping Nicole, Oscar's mother, prepare dessert for dinner. She was stirring a pot on the stove while Nicole organized the ingredients on the counter.

"So, Y/N, how are you dealing with both of your busy calendars? It must be crazy." Oscar's mom asks.

Y/n smiles "It's busy, but it's worth it. Especially since we make a point of visiting each other whenever we can. We understand that our schedules are tight" she smiles more, looking at her mother-in-law as she walked past her daughter-in-law and placed a hand on her shoulder .

"Hey, I heard something about me!" Oscar walks into the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the fridge.

Nicole laughs and Y/n rolls her eyes smiling, as she turns off the stove.

"I was just saying how terrible you are in the kitchen," Y/n jokes, placing the pan on the table and looking for a serving dish.

Oscar laughs, leaning against the counter,

"But you know, Nicole...he makes up for it with flowers and dinners" Y/n says shyly, looking at her mother-in-law. Who watched the scene in wonder.

Oscar walks up to his girlfriend and hugs her from behind.

"You know what else I'm good at? Choosing an amazing girlfriend." He kisses his girlfriend's neck. "And also..." he whispers something in her ear, making Y/n turn red as pepper.

"OSCAR!!!" She says loudly, afraid his mother might have heard. "Your mother is here!" She hits her boyfriend on the chest and he smiles.

"I didn't see or hear anything!" Nicole raises her hands as she walks around the kitchen, making the couple laugh.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was a quiet night in Y/n and Oscar's apartment. They were on the couch, curled up under a blanket, watching a random movie. The low light in the living room created a cozy atmosphere, and the sound of the rain hitting the window completed the perfect setting.

Y/n had her head resting on Oscar's chest, while he absentmindedly played with the strands of her hair. The movie seemed to be far from holding both of their attention, but neither of them wanted to leave.

"Did you know you snore when you sleep on the couch?" Oscar breaks the silence with a mischievous smile.

Y/n lifts her head, pretending to be offended. "I DON'T snore!"

"He snored last week when he slept here after that long flight. I even recorded it..." He takes out his phone, ready to prove it.

"Oscar Piastri, if you recorded it, I swear I'll make you sleep on the carpet!" Y/n laughs, trying to grab the phone from his hands.

He turns away and pulls her closer, hugging her sideways. "Okay, okay. Maybe I overreacted... But you're adorable even when you're snoring."

Y/n rolls her eyes but smiles. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

"And you're stubborn, but I think I love you anyway." The sentence comes out unpretentiously, but the weight of it hangs in the air for a few seconds.

Y/n freezes, looking at Oscar. He looked relaxed, but there was a slight tension in his smile, as if he was waiting for her reaction.

"Do you... love me?" She asks, with a shy smile and her heart racing.

"I do. Quite a bit, actually." He laughs nervously, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I thought it was kind of obvious, but... now it's there, I said."

Y/n feels her cheeks burn, but she can't hide the happiness written all over her face. She leans in to kiss him lightly, before whispering, "I love you too."

Oscar smiles like a kid who just won the biggest prize in the world. "You know, now you can't complain when I prove you snore."

Y/n laughs, hugging him again. "You ruin all the cute moments, you know that?"

"Ah, but you love me anyway."

They kiss again, while the movie continues to fade into the background, as does anything else that wasn't the two of them at that moment.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

They were at a racetrack while Oscar was training with the McLaren team. It was the end of the day, and only the team was in the garage. That weekend Y/n managed to travel to see her boyfriend.

"Hey, do you want to train with me?" Oscar asks, holding out a helmet in front of her.

She widens her eyes and smiles.

"But with what car?" She picks up her helmet, excited about the idea.

"You can go with mine, Lando lent me his!" Oscar says smiling.

"So, ready to get your ass kicked?!!" Y/n smiles, putting on her helmet.

"Keep dreaming, princess!" Oscar sighs and kisses her helmet. "I'm a Formula 1 driver."

"Honey, you may be an F1 driver, but I'll be your boss here on the track when I win." She smiles mischievously.

After deciding to do three laps and complete them, Y/n arrives first at the garage, getting out of the car and laughing, while taking off her helmet and waiting for Oscar.

30 seconds later, he arrives in the garage behind her.

"Who really got beat up?? OSCAR PIASTRI!!! She screams, standing next to the car as Oscar gets out of his teammate's car.

"Calm down, honey! I was going slow so as not to hurt your ego." Piastri smiles, approaching his girlfriend.

The engineers began to put away the equipment and cars.

"Of course, of course! And I'm the Queen of England!" Y/n jokes, tossing her hair back.

Oscar rolls his eyes with a smile, placing his hands on his girlfriend's waist and pulling her in for an unexpected kiss.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was an F1 Academy event, where the Y/N team invited McLaren to promote the partnership. Oscar and Y/n crossed paths for the first time, in the hallway near the stage, as they were preparing to go into an interview with the teams.

"Hi, you must be Y/n Y/s, right? I've heard a lot about you!" Oscar comes up behind the woman, making her turn around and smile, while adjusting the microphone in her ear.

"Hey, I do!!" She sighs and shakes the hand Oscar had extended. "I hope I heard good things!" She laughs.

"Yes, only good things," he smiles. "By the way, Oscar Piastri!"

"I heard about you too. Great race last time, and congratulations on winning the GP. It was amazing" she smiles, seeing some people asking for them to come on stage.

"Thanks. But from what I've seen, you're not far behind either. The F1 Academy has a rising star."

Y/n smiles shyly, while picking at her fingernails.

"If that means you'll be nervous competing with me one day, I'll take the compliment."

Oscar looks at her with a twinkle in his eye: "We'll see who gets nervous. But I think I'll enjoy following your journey."

"Only if it doesn't get in your way." Y/n lets out a small laugh.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The weeks had passed, and Oscar was still by Yin's side in the hospital. Nicole had taken a flight a few days ago to help with her daughter-in-law, telling Oscar to rent a hotel room to rest while she took care of the young woman.

Oscar was a little doubtful at first, but he trusted his mother a lot and knew that whatever happened to Y/n in the hospital, she would call him immediately.

At the moment, he was walking down the hallway to her room, after having spent a few hours in the hotel room trying to rest and taking a hot bath.

He had some of Yin's clothes in the suitcase he had brought, along with some take-out snacks he had bought at the market next door. When he opened the bedroom door, he saw that there was empty, without Yin's bed with her and without his mother. He began to panic, until Nicole came out of the bathroom.

"Mom?? Where's Y/n?" He says, placing the suitcase on the armchair and feeling his heart race.

"Calm down, son," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to convey calm.

"The doctors came to get her to run some tests. They said she's responding well to the medications and procedures and..." She hesitated, but a slight smile lit her face. "They said she could wake up from her coma at any moment."

She was going to wake up. Certainty took hold of Oscar, making him sigh in relief and let a few tears fall.

They stayed in the room talking, while they waited for the doctors to bring Y/n back. And when they arrived, they brought good news for the family. Y/n no longer needed so many tubes attached to her, and the fractures were progressing well. Oscar smiled, when he saw that his girlfriend now only needed an oxygen tube to help her breathing.

All those wires attached to her made Oscar's stomach turn.

"I'm going to rest a little and call her family to tell them the good news. If there's anything I'll be downstairs at the reception." Nicole said smiling at her son, while Oscar pulled the armchair as close as possible to Y/n's bed.

"It's okay, Mom! Thanks for staying with her...for everything, really..." Nicole reaches over and kisses the top of her little boy's head.

"Anything for you guys, I love you," she says, walking out the door and closing it.

He turned to look at her face. For the first time in weeks, Y/n looked at peace. Her face, once marked by bruises and swelling, now had only small, almost invisible scars. He smiled, taking her hand and caressing it.

"I heard you brought good news, you know?" he began in a soft, almost whispered tone. "I can't wait to see you awake and tell you how much I love you... But you already know that, right?" He chuckled, remembering how she always made fun of his nervous manner.

Oscar sighs deeply, before starting to talk to her. Even though she didn't answer, he knew that Y/n was listening to everything around her.

"You know, I was remembering the bedtime conversations we had... There was one time when you started talking about kids. At that moment, I almost panicked, thinking you wanted them now. You laughed so hard at my expression that I almost cried with relief." He smiled as he remembered. "You said it was something for the distant future, but you liked to plan things. And then you asked me if I liked the idea of having little knots running around. I said yes. That was the day I fell in love even more for you. That smile you have... sweet and bright... makes me want everything with you." He looked at her face. "Remember that day?"

For a second, he felt pressure on his hand. As if someone had squeezed it. His eyes widened and he looked at his girlfriend's hand, which he was holding.

"Y/n?? Honey!!" Oscar says, now feeling and seeing her hand move. "Honey, I'm here!! I'm waiting for you!" She squeezes his hand again, making tears fall down Oscar's face.

That was when she coughed, breaking the silence. The cough was weak, but the sound made Oscar jump up. The oxygen tube was in the way, and she looked uncomfortable.

Oscar acted quickly, running to the door and calling for the nurses and doctors, his heart racing with excitement and nervousness. The room began to fill with professionals, while Oscar stood in a corner so as not to disturb them, feeling that from that moment on, everything would be fine.

Y/n was awake while the neurosurgeon did some tests and questions to her, and she answered with the right answers. Before leaving, the doctor looks at Oscar, smiling friendly and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, she's awake!"

Oscar lowers his head, smiling and hiding his tears. "Yeah, she's awake!" He smiles. "Thank you," Oscar thanks before the doctor leaves the room with the nurses. He approaches slowly, as if he still can't believe she's there, awake. A living, breathing Y/n, looking at him.

The youngest sees the pilot approaching her bed with a smile, taking her hand, the one who had moved in the coma moments before.

"Hey honey!" He smiled, letting the tears fall.

Y/n, always the jokester in the relationship, frowned and pulled her hand away slightly, stifling a laugh. "Who are you?"

Oscar froze. For a second, the world around him seemed to disappear, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. His mind went into a panic, searching desperately for something on her face—some clue, some sign that this was a joke.

Until he heard it. A faint, drawn-out laugh, but so familiar that it made his heart stop for another reason.

"Hey, honey, I do know you. I was just messing with you." Y/n smiled, now squeezing his hand tighter, her eyes shining with a humor that only she had.

"Do you want to scare me to death?" Oscar let out a deep sigh as he smiled and squeezed her hand.

She smiled tiredly: "Oh stop, I knew you could handle it, Piastri."

Oscar can't stop smiling, approaching and placing a hand on her face.

"You have no idea how scared I was all these days. Your voice cracking on the radio, your car flipping over countless times, the doctor's news that you were in a coma. I thought I was going to lose you... I was so scared..." He whispers, his voice thick with tension, but relieved that she was okay now. "I stayed by your side every day for the past few weeks... I was afraid that I would go to rest and you would be gone..." Oscar cries, lowering his head.

A few tears fell from Y/n's face as well.

"That's why you have that zombie face, you haven't slept in days!" she says to lighten the tense atmosphere between them.

Oscar lifts his head and laughs, "Yeah, I couldn't sleep peacefully while you were here!"

Y/n smiles without showing her teeth. A tired smile, but that same sweet smile that Oscar loved.

"It all happened so fast..." she begins telling her story. "The radio started to fail, the steering wheel wasn't as stable on the straights and suddenly I found myself face to face with the curve, I tried to brake but when I realized it, the car was already in the air and flipping over. I only had a few more seconds before I passed out, and in that time I could only think about you... I could only think about how to get back to you. And then everything went black" She says, crying softly and Oscar caressing her cheek, and wiping away the silent tears.

"But hey, you're here now. You found a way to come back to us."

Y/n smiles, nodding in agreement.

"But, you know... even when I was unconscious, I heard you. Every day. I heard you calling me, telling me that I was strong, that I was going to be okay."

Oscar's eyes widen, smiling excitedly: "Did you hear me?"

"Yes. I heard you telling me about all the moments we spent together, and how you wanted me to come back so I could continue living by my side." She smiles, now holding her boyfriend's face. "And you know... I also remember that night when I brought up the subject of children!" She smiles, making Oscar laugh.

"Always scaring me half to death" Piastri smiles.

A little light in Oscar's mind turns on, signaling that now was a good time to reveal what he had been thinking for so long.

"Y/n... I don't think I've ever said it in so many words, but... I love you. Not just in a simple way, but in a deep way, that takes my breath away and makes my heart ache just thinking about losing you." Without realizing it, he puts his hand in his coat pocket, holding a small velvet box. "And after everything we've been through these weekends and in all our relationship history, I don't want to wait anymore, I don't want to wait for the right moment, I don't want to spend even one more second away from you..." he places the ring box in front of his girlfriend, Y/n feels her breath catch in her lungs, almost asking for the oxygen tube again. "I've been carrying this in my pocket for about 5 months, every time we travel and go out together, thinking that there would be the right moment to ask, but here and now, I feel like it's the best moment we have, because I don't want to be away from you anymore. Y/n Y/s, will you marry me? Be my partner in all the curves of life, in all the ups and downs?" He kneels down, opening the box and showing the engagement ring.

Y/n felt the tears fall from her face, if it was the coma, she didn't want to wake up. Because it was the most beautiful dream she could ever imagine having in her life, until Oscar entered her and messed everything up for the better.

"Oscar... do you have any idea how much of an impact you have on my heart? Literally, because right now I think it's going to need a defibrillator." Oscar laughs at his soon-to-be-engaged girlfriend's comment. "Now, seriously... proposing to someone while she's got her arm in a bandage, her hair in a bird's nest and she's on a life support machine? Is that how you want me to remember this moment?"

Piastri smiles with tears in her eyes: "I want you to remember how much I love you. Because even so, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And because I can't go another second without knowing that you will be mine forever."

Y/n takes a deep breath, letting the tears fall: "Oscar Piastri, you are completely crazy... and I accept it. Of course I accept to marry you!"

The pilot feels the air return to his lungs, smiling broadly and carefully approaching to place a soft kiss on the bride's lips. Then, he lovingly slides the shiny ring onto her finger.

She looks at the ring, and then at her fiancé, with a genuine smile on her face before saying.

"You know you're going to have to ask me again when I look halfway decent, right?"

Oscar laughs, "Okay. I promise to ask you every day, just in case."

[1425fivefive]

norstappen + begging please?

post-2024 austria norstappen begging (for the kink prompt ask)

Lando doesn’t say anything when he opens his hotel room door, just goes over to the desk chair and curls up in it, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his chin on his knees. Max can tell he’s been crying, his face a blotchy pink, his eyes red-rimmed.

“Fuck, Lando,” Max says, chest aching at the sight.

Lando makes a small, hurt noise, but he says, “Don’t fucking—don’t you dare fucking pity me.”

“I’m not,” Max lies.

Lando lets out a sob, bringing a sleeve up to scrub at his cheek. “I know you fucking do,” Lando says, voice shaking. “And you’re not even—you’re not even fucking sorry about it.”

“I am,” Max says. “I am, fuck, Lando, I—” Max trails off, running a hand through his hair.

When he’d made the move, he hadn’t thought it’d been over the line. He thought there was enough space, he thought Lando would brake, he thought Lando would back off and try again on the next lap. He hadn’t meant to puncture Lando’s tire along with his own. Hadn’t meant to send them both limping back to the pits. Hadn’t meant to force Lando to retire the car.

But Lando’s looking at Max like he doesn’t even recognize him. Max feels a flutter of panic at the idea that this might be something Lando can’t forgive. That maybe Lando thinks Max wanted to ruin Lando’s race.

Max takes a step forward, reaching a hand out. “Lando—”

“What?” Lando snaps. “What the fuck do you want Max?”

Max thinks about how it’d been early in the season, when Lando had been giggly and pliant in bed. When they’d fucked and played video games after, Lando’s feet in his lap. It’d been easy and nice and perfect, and Max hadn’t realized exactly how perfect it was until he’d lost it.

“Lando,” Max whispers, cringing at the desperation in his voice.

Lando wipes his nose with the sleeve of his sweater, glaring at Max. “You can’t fuck me if that’s what you want,” Lando says. “That’s—I’m not fucking doing that.”

“I wasn’t—” Max breaks off on a groan, desperately trying to work out the right thing to say.

Maybe he shouldn’t say anything at all, maybe he should just—

Max sinks to his knees in front of Lando.

“Oh my god,” Lando mutters. “You are here to fuck me.”

Max’s cheeks flush and he shakes his head, frantic. “No, I—fuck, Lando, I’m trying—” Max grabs the arms of the desk chair, pulling it toward him.

Lando yelps, legs flying down to land on either side of Max, crotch directly in front of Max’s face.

“Let me suck your dick,” Max says. “Let me—I’m trying to apologize, Lando.”

Lando lets out an indignant little huff, but he’s staring at Max intently, like maybe he finally wants to hear what Max has to say.

“Please,” Max whispers, bringing a hand to slide up Lando’s thigh, playing with the hem of Lando’s shorts. “Please, Lando.”

“How bad?” Lando asks.

Max frowns, confused. “What?”

Lando flushes, sinking into his hoodie. “How bad, like—how bad do you want it?”

“Your cock?”

Lando bites his lip, nods.

Max lets out a slow exhale. He can do this. If this is what he needs to do to make Lando see how much he means to him, how much Max cares about him, fine. He’ll fucking beg.

“So bad, Lando,” Max murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to the inside of Lando’s thigh. “Fucking love your cock.”

Lando lets out a whimper but he stifles it immediately, frowning down at Max, clearly trying to seem in control. “Keep going.”

“Missed it so much, Lando,” Max breathes, pressing a kiss to Lando’s other thigh. “Love the way you taste. Please let me suck you.”

Lando whines, but he snaps, “You can’t come tonight.”

Max’s cock aches but he’s not a teenager. He can make it through a night if that’s what Lando needs.

“And you can’t fuck me,” Lando continues. “I won’t be sucking your dick either, so if you’re doing this because you, like, expect me to return the favor or something—”

“I’m not,” Max says gently, rubbing his thumbs over Lando’s skin, trying to soothe him. “Let me do this for you.”

Lando’s eyes are wide, pupils huge. Max knows Lando’s going to let him.

But Lando says, “I haven’t, like, forgiven you yet.”

The yet feels important. Like maybe if Max does this well enough, maybe—

Max brings his hands up to the waistband of Lando’s athletic shorts, tugging them down Lando’s legs, revealing Lando’s cock, thick and hard.

“Fuck, Lando,” Max breathes. “So fucking pretty.”

Lando whimpers at that, thighs spreading. “Say please again,” Lando orders, voice breathy.

“Please, baby,” Max groans, staring at Lando’s cock, imagining it in his mouth. “Please let me suck your pretty cock.”

“God, Max,” Lando moans, and he fists a hand in Max’s hair, dragging him down to his cock. “You can. Please, I—” Lando breaks off on a whine as Max drags his tongue over Lando’s length.

Max flashes his eyes up to Lando’s, holding his gaze as he sinks slowly down Lando’s cock. He manages to get all of it in his mouth, choking around it, eyes watering.

Lando’s staring down at him with a dazed expression, cheeks flushed, lips parted. But his fingers tighten in Max’s hair and he breathes, “Good boy.”

Max moans, brings a hand up to play with Lando’s balls the way Lando likes, and tries to show Lando exactly how sorry he is.

[meiguicha]

When All Is Said and Done

Zhongli x Reader

is this a safe space, because i have loved this old man for way too long. also i should nawt have written this so late at night

The autumn sun invites crisp winds that foretell the harsher months, yet too does it present the most beautiful of sights upon the harbour.

A multitude of ginkgo trees line an old paved path, shedding their verdant coats in favour of bright ochre made only the more brilliant by the afternoon sunlight. The fallen fruits have been meticulously swept up into two woven baskets, no doubt an act of the person living within the humble residence just beyond the seas of amber trees.

And as his eyes drift towards those baskets, he finds his hand unable to be stayed, choosing to swipe a few of the foul-smelling fruits within his gloved hand. Even at a distance, the odour forced a twist of features but alas, there is someone who quite enjoys them.

Zhongli laughs to himself, a fond smile pulls across his lips at a meandering thought. By the end of the season, they'll be sick of the fleshy fruits and yet by the next fall of verdure, they'll be brimming with excitement once more.

Looking up and shielding his eyes from the stray strands of light peering through peeks of leaves, another thought tails after the first.

These trees loom over buildings of new, having bore fruits for hundreds of years and may continue to do so for the another hundred. Their caretakers yet still have dilligently taken care of them, and from the mouths of the people of Liyue, have been doing so for generations.

He laughs once more, quieter this time.

With a handful of gifts to present, leather shoes eventually find themselves at the forefront of a stone abode. Herbs of myriad blend grow ardently by the porch, but it is not that which causes his eyes to quirk nor his heart to soothe.

Sitting atop a chair is the form of the very caretaker who has taken his heart and liver, with a dragon plush on their lap and a pair of knitting needles grasped weakly in their hands. A table with a tea set atop the top layer and another basket in the lowest.

It is you, sound asleep in a thick shawl and wisps of loose hair tickling the soft apples of your cheeks. He looks towards the pairing chair next to yours, and as quietly as possible, shifts it so he may gaze upon you ever the easier.

Perhaps for some illogical reasoning, he places the fruits onto the small basket, and looks to pour himself a cup of tea.

The teapot atop the wooden table has grown cold, your own, round, cup too has been abandoned in your promenade with slumber. One much sharper, squarer, a cup you bemoan and gripe about whenever it enters your sight, sits besides yours, though it has seemingly been untouched.

Yet though he has kept his movements light, your eyes squeeze as they flutter open blearily. And with a soft hum, you gift upon him the grace of your attention.

"Hrm... Have you been staring at me the whole time?" Quietly, your voice rasps from disuse and yet there is no sound he could possibly find more pleasing.

Strands of your hair fall upon your lips as the wind breezes past, and some part of him, deep and rumbling, wishes for nothing more than to be those strands if only to be closer towards you.

Zhongli merely brushes them aside, and with a tone distantly related to indulgence, laughs, "There is nothing else I could possibly do in your presence."

Though you do not outwardly react in any manner noticeable to the less trained eye, your eyes like crescents and raised lips are all he needs.

"The birds were awfully loud today," Sighing, you close your eyes as you hold the plush closer to your stomach. "They're never like this when you're around."

"I suppose I shall have to fend off my beloved's suitors if they so annoy you," He responds, gently shooing off a feathered intruder from your arm.

"Now isn't the time to be jealous of finches, dear."

"You can't blame me for jealousy when even a glance from you could make sparrows drop from the sky."

He's certain that he must sound like a fool, one so hopelessly adoring of you that it seeps from his every gaze and movement, if only so it could possibly explain your clemency for his proclivity to praise you.

Languidly, without neither rush nor haste, you smile as your words spill with idle, "As if your cart is not filled with fruits at every moment of the day."

Your response, no matter how nonchalant nor monotone, still pulls a laugh from him. He finds it comes easier now, for amusement to leak from his lips when it is with you.

Clearly his reaction is one you are pleased by. Knitting needles cast aside and creation halted indefinitely, you will not worry about completing it. Reaching for his hand, you leisurely remove his gloves to run your fingers along his palm. Feather light, he doesn't bother to repress the shiver that runs through him at the adroit touch.

Even that passes, and all he is left with is the warm connection of your hand. Your gaze lands upon him again and once more, forever more, he knows that truly, having your heed, languorous or not. is all he wants.

Whether in the solemness of winter or the bustling of spring, in defending you against your feathered companions or herded from admiring onlookers, you only have the rest of forever to live out your gentle lives.

[fallbhind]

sub!matt, loser!matt. dom!reader, feisty!reader ⨟ headcannons of sexual activity, mndi

OO. ও　 soft whimpers drew from matt’s lip as you guided him threw the pleasuring experience, helping him touch all the right spots, drawing an occasional moan. whilst you moved up and down on his girthy digits.

“fuck, you’re doin’ so good.” you praised, pulling his hair, drawing an incredibly loud whimper from matt, only for your finger to be placed on his lips. “don’t want your brothers seeing you slut to me, so you?” he shook his head obediently, and you ran your manicured nails through his soft hair, gripping the back off his hair. matt’s hands held your plush hips. your hands pushed his hands down to your ass, making him knead it with his hands as you bounced on his cock.

your hands went to cup his face, “mommy, i’m close!” he whimpered pathetically to you, his hands gripping your ass while his eyes lolled in the back of his head.

“come in me, be a good boy fill that condom up for mommy.” you whispered softly, nipping softly at his earlobe as your came around him, matt following shortly after into the condom. you rested your chin on his shoulder.

he was just so obedient when it came to you. and you liked that.

O2. ও　 you just couldn’t help yourself. matt was a little dorky, and you were well, you weren’t. you got invited to everything. and of course you had to bring your plus one we’re you went so you could tease him.

matt was sitting on the couch at the frat party, watching you dance with a group of friends. after a while of dancing you went to matt, dragging him off the couch, where from there you danced your way out of the crowd, into the bathroom. you propped your self on the counter, kissing matt. your nails dug into his neck, leaving crescent moon shapes. matt let out a soft moan. “you’re a slut.” you whispered to him.

you pulled your underwear to the side, spreading your legs for him. he got down on his knees, pushing your dress further up, sticking his tongue out shyly. you forced his head down into your cunt, his tongue shifting out as he started to eat you out. “see, don’t be shy.”

he nodded, pussy drunk as he he muttered “i love you mommy” “love you to, now be a good boy. matt nodded eagerly, his tongue lapping at your tight hole.

O3. ও　 it had been an extremely long night, and matt was ready to leave, but you weren’t. just for that, he pissed you off. so you were oh so busy talking to a guy.

of course, it had matt fuming, but he was to scared to try to say anything, under the fear you would leave him and he would be all alone. but then, maybe an hour later, you had gestured for matt to come over to you, we’re your arm was slung lowly around his waist, squeezing his ass gently, making him squirm.

“this is my boyfriend, matt.” you said smoothly, like ice on rocks. “he’s such a good boy.” you teased, your hand resting on matt’s ass.

divider creds: @bernardsbendystraws

[k0kichiimagines]

i love giving my cat a little blanket when hes cold

[simonbrain]

john making simon watch you get the pounding of your life because the two of you got into a nasty little argument, resulting in simon taking his anger out on johnny's ass.

he didn't even stop when you walked into your shared bedroom to see johnny getting his back blown out by your man. he only ordered you to sit and watch as johnny's moans and whines and the sounds of skin slapping filled the room, cum and drool staining your sheets.

simon had the audacity to groan when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, bottom lip quivering. he always did get off on making you cry.

now he sits with a hard, leaking cock, hands restrained behind the back of the chair as he's forced to watch you get fucked by his captain. despite the way he snarls and grits his teeth, he still twitches and drools in his pants when your cunt gushes around john's cock for the nth time, the desperation to join becoming unbearable. it doesn't help that you're making the prettiest noises, writhing as john folds you into full nelson, your body on full display. simon's seething, so pissed off because he can't touch himself, and he can't even lap at your sloppy pussy or suck on your pretty clit.

"dirty mutts like you get nothin'," john barks when simon pathetically demands to be allowed to touch you, his hips effortlessly working to bring you over the edge again. "you'll never fuckin' learn if i don't teach you how to play nice with your toys; what kind of captain would i be, eh?"

you're babbling incoherent nonsense, not a thought in your head as john's gravelly voice coos sweet things into your ear, calling you his perfect girl while he kisses away your tears. you feel like you're floating right up into the ether, another orgasm ripping through you when he rubs tight, firm circles over your sensitive clit, drool running down your chin at the immense pleasure tingling all over your body.

you aren't sure if you actually heard it before you passed out in john's arms at the end of it all, but you swear he grunted, "i fuckin' own you, so i own her. my pretty pussy, my pretty girl."

(meanwhile, kyle's sorting johnny out in another room, edging him nice and long for being such a slut. if he wanted a good fuck, kyle was right there, and he's feeling offended.

"is it cause i'm not taken?" kyle huffs, cruelly twisting his fist around the head of johnny's cock and grinning meanly at the broken sob he gets in return.)

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯! 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

He’s been stealing your panties since the week he met you. Collecting them in different pretty colors and fabrics. Using them to jerk off every night with the groan of your name. Stuffing them under his nose or using them to stroke his cock, either way had him cumming to the thought of you all the same.

He takes your stuff and holds them over your head. Watching your tits bounce as you whined and struggled to reach. Smirking widely as he teased, “if you want it back so bad then kiss me.” Blood rushing to his cock when you actually get on your tip toes to kiss him shortly, forcing your lips to stay on his when you try to pull away.

Who pretends to be asleep until he hears your soft moans at one in the morning. Quietly cracking open your door to watch you touch yourself, his hard cock already in hand as you moaned and mewled so fucking prettily. Stroking at the pace of your desperately working fingers till you two orgasm at the same time.

Who ‘accidentally’ sends you a video of him lazily jerking off on his bed, his lip in between his teeth and his other hand behind his head as he looks directly into the camera. The message coming through followed by a small “oops, sorry sweetheart, wrong person”

Who starts getting bolder and bolder even after you suspect him of being the reason for your missing underwear. Leaving slight yet noticeable touches to your ass and boobs whenever he had the chance. Always laughing it off and joking about how soft you were and about how perfectly your tits fit in his hand.

Who calls you up to his room when he’s about to cum, his lips parting in heavy breaths as you walked in clad in your short pajama set. Your eyes widening as he fisted his length, eyes meeting yours with a loud groan as he spilled onto his hand. “Shit, can you grab me that box of tissue?” Letting out heavy breaths with a dark grin.

Who starts walking around the house with nothing but low hanging sweats to get you flustered. Brushing up against you or wrapping his toned arms around your body. His rock like abs against your back as he whispered into your ear. “Well these shorts are shorter than usual.” Loving the way your face heated up for him.

Who starts to make you sit in his lap for everything. Saying that you weren’t allowed to watch tv unless you did it from his lap. Or that you couldn’t seat at the table to eat breakfast unless it was again, on his lap.

Who suddenly wants to spend all his time with you so that you couldn’t go out as often. He wanted you, and would make you his at some point.

Who finally sinks his cock into your tight pussy after teasing you subtly all day. “Waited so long for this.” He grunted, his thumb running over your bottom lip which was swollen from all his rough kissing. “Feels even better than i expected.”

You cried out loudly, small whimpers falling past your parted lips as his hold on your legs tightened. Holding them in place over his shoulders as he fucked into you harshly. Thick cot brushing against your g spot as it hammered deep.

“That’s it, just take it baby. Please mama? Take it f’me yeah?” He breathed, his head in your neck as he licked and sucked dark marks onto your skin. Snapping his hips into yours in oute need, not being able to get enough of the moment that he dreamed for so long about.

“Does that feel good baby?” Watching as you nodded with a teary cry, your eyes fluttering shut as your back arched off his sheets.

“Look at me.” he groaned, your eyes peeling open to meet his as you both filled the room with your noises. “Wanna fill you up so bad, pussy’s so fucking perfect.”

“S-satoruu— nngh,”

“Oh fuck baby, let me hear my name again.” He breathed, hand snaking lightly around your neck. Your choked moans and babbles getting louder as your stomach tightened. Gojo never slowing his pace as he fucked you dumb.

“Haah, Sat-oruu, ahh,” you mewled, your pussy tightening as your body began to tremble. Gripping onto the sheets at your side at the orgasmic build up.

“Can feel you getting close, squeezing me so tight,” Gojo grunted, lewd squelching sounds filling your ears each time his cock bullied its way deep. “I’ve got you baby, cum f’me.” His hand squeezed down on your throat, your wet eyes meeting piercing blue ones with a chant of his name. His cock twitching inside you as your pussy messily thanked his cock.

“O-oh fuck- ‘m never letting you go you know that? Wanted you for way too long.” His eyes fixed on yours as you shook your head.

You felt so good, and he found him self unable to come to a stop even as he got close.

“S-satoru—”

“C-can’t baby, feels so good, shit— gotta cum in you.” Pressing his lips onto yours to muffle your whines as he gave his final sloppy thrusts. His hips flush against yours as he buried himself deep inside you with a moan. His eyes rolling back as he spilled into you, pumping ropes after ropes of the sticky substance onto your walls.

Gojo pulled away with a satisfied breath, swiping his tongue across his lips with an unapologetic smile at the look on your face. “Sorry princess.”

[sttoru]

Sukuna with clingy concubine 🛐🛐 like hella clingy, always clinging to sukuna, sitting on his lap and just following sukuna like a lost puppy

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff. little bit suggestive. size difference. reader is clingy, a bit of an airhead ig. reader gets called ‘girl, brat’.

“y’re annoying me, girl,” sukuna grumbles as he walks to the courtyard. you had magically appeared behind him the moment he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.

you flash him an apologetic smile “i’m sorry, my lord.” you’re not sorry, sukuna knows, though he doesn’t comment on it. it’s been like this ever since a week or two ago. he cannot recall why you’re suddenly so much more affectionate.

he doesn’t wait on you, however, and takes big strides towards the courtyard. if your little legs can’t keep up, that isn’t his problem. you frown and take on the challenge that’s been thrown your way.

you increase your pace and nearly run after sukuna. you have to lift your kimono a little to make sure you wouldn’t trip over the fabric. it doesn’t seem like you’ll give up any time soon as you follow him with that same content expression on your face.

sukuna can’t believe that a human like you dares to even be in his presence for so long. he didn’t call for you, so why are you adamant on staying with him? he concludes that something must be up, “what’d you want from me?”

there hangs a silence between you two afterwards. sukuna’s slow yet heavy footsteps reverberate through the hallway, followed by your quick and light ones. you pout as you notice that the king of curses isn’t even sparing you a glance, “nothing at all. i just like to be with you.”

you add the latter as an afterthought. you don’t expect sukuna to react to that, so you continue to trail behind him into the courtyard. “tch,” you hear him scoff in annoyance. you’re sure he doesn’t mean any actual harm by that, so you don’t take it personally.

sukuna eventually sits down on the engawa, where the servants have placed the comfy zabuton cushions. there’s always one for you as well—right next to sukuna’s. it’s become a habit for the maids to include you in sukuna’s daily routines since you’re always with him.

you eye your own cushion, though don’t make an effort to actually sit down on it. sukuna stares ahead, not bothered to notice you at the moment. you look down at his lap, recalling just how perfectly you can fit on it.

you don’t waste any more time and plop down on his thick thighs, your back against his chest. sukuna’s brow twitches at the sudden contact. his bottom pair of eyes look down at you whilst the upper ones keep looking at the nature in front of you both.

“get off me,” the king of curses commands through a low tone. he doesn’t push you off, however. that alone should tell you enough; he’s tolerating your behaviour as per usual. or perhaps he secretly likes your proximity.

you shall never discover which of the two it actually is.

“nooooooo,” you exaggerate with a whine. you don’t want to. you wrap both of your arms around one of sukuna’s—clinging onto him like your life depends on it. he simply responds by sighing.

you know sukuna’s able to grab you by the collar and force you to sit down on the cushion beside him, but he doesn’t. your heart flutters every time sukuna shows some tolerance to your clingy behavior. it means that maybe—just maybe—he’s opening up to the idea of being more affectionate with you.

“such a fuckin’ brat,” sukuna simply puts one hand on your waist, the others supporting his weight on the engawa. he grumbles, but there are clear signs of him relaxing with you in his presence.

you chuckle at the realisation and swing your legs in excitement. sukuna unexpectedly bites your ear in response to your increased activity on his lap, “stay still or i’ll kick you off.”

you let out a small whimper as you feel his fangs gently sick into your earlobe. you jolt back and rub the skin with your hand, looking up at sukuna with a playful frown before teasing him back. you roll your eyes and answer him with a firm yet mocking, “sir yes, sir!”

sukuna clicks his tongue at your tease. you answer him like he’s some general in the military. that’s not the kind of relationship he has with you—it’s more than that. even though he knows you’re joking, he dislikes it when you call him anything other than ‘my lord’, ‘my king’, or just his name.

he finds great satisfaction in the way you refer to him as such. you’re the only one who can make sukuna grin each time you remind him of his status and the power he has over you.

the power dynamic; it’s addictive.

he needs more of it.

sukuna reaches out to grab your face with one hand, but you’re quick to pull your head back the moment you see that intimidatingly big hand coming down onto your vision. you clear your throat and apologise, “i mean—yes, my lord.”

the king of curses hums in content. that title is exactly what he had been looking for. he retracts his hand and settles it back down on your waist, patting your sides twice to show his satisfaction with your obedience.

you stop squirming around in his lap and simply lay back down in his arms. you close your eyes and nearly fall asleep because of the comfortable atmosphere. the slight breeze against your face is relaxing and perfectly compliments the warmth from sukuna’s body.

what a perfect way to spend your day.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw

You have an important document from your work that needs to be fixed now, but your poor boyfriend König already got worked up the moment you leant down to retrieve your book from a lower shelf moments ago, your ass in full display to him, so you compromise when he look at you with that heavy cock hanging between his thighs, “liebling, please, I won’t interrupt you doing your work.” he says while pulling you onto his lap, your core rest just against his growing erection. How can you say no when he pleads so nicely?

Your arms wrapped around his neck, typing on your phone and dealing with the job, while König humping like a dog in heat against your clothed pussy, groaning and growling just beside your ear as he prods his tip repeatedly at your clit, still cheekily trying to let you lose control and finish whatever you’re doing now. But he needs to be a good boy, he already promised you he’ll hold back until you have time, so he settles with grinding his cock along your pussy for now.

You hum in approval, sparing a glance at him and his dick when he slide it between your pussy lips, your panties’ already a mess after he pulled down the hem of your panties and pumped a load inside, clinging onto your skin and showing the curve of your mound.

“I can’t wait anymore, Süße…bitte bitte…” A grin decorates your lips as you see his face, all flush with the desire burning in his body, can’t even think straight and talk coherently, because sweetie, he just wants to sink his cock inside your drenched cunt and fuck you so good, overwhelm you in pleasure so you can forget about your job.

So you finally set down your phone. Actually, you already finished correcting the mistakes in your documents minutes ago, but the sight of him blabbering and moaning, like all he wants in this world is you and your pussy, is just too entertaining.

“Oh…oh my god…” Your teasing words don’t even have a chance to make their way out of your lips, the moment you put away the phone, he already stands up and flip you onto the mattress, slamming his cock inside you in one swift move, legs pressed back to your breast for mating press, pounding into you with the full force of his hips that you’re practically screaming his name in ecstasy.

Just don’t let him discover that you pretend to be occupied by work for a few more minutes, just to see him eagerly rolling his hips against your slick folds, unless you want to walk side to side the next day, from how he teach you a lesson with his weapon that he calls his cock.

[k-hotchoisan]

backseat serenade

<mingi x fem!reader>

Getting stuck in the backseat of your friend’s car after a night out with your drunk friends wasn’t how you thought of ending the night, especially not on Mingi’s lap.

Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, forced proximity, technically exhibitionism but not because no one ends up noticing, fingering, light choking and wrist pining, riding, cream pies, orgasms, something is going on in the backseat…, furcoat mingi

word count: 3.3K (what the fucK)

a/n: y'all be eating fucking good fr. Also shout out to my loml @bro-atz for helping out with the plot a little <3 shout out to mingi brain rot!

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie  @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess  @woojirang @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn  @voicesinmyhead-rc @woojirang @wlv-asteria @jjoongstar @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @vic0921

networks: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

“Who else is here?” You ask. 

She shrugs. “My boyfriend and a couple of his friends. You know them.” Well, you’ve definitely met a couple of your friend’s boyfriend’s friends before. Your eyes scan the crowd and sure enough, you spot familiar faces. 

And then your eyes rest on a particular male—his hair dyed platinum and slicked back, already drawing attention because of his height alongside his fur coat that hung over his shoulders. You never thought someone could pull off a fur coat that well actually. A pair of glasses sits on his nose bridge, which seems to somehow accentuate how sharp his eyes are. He’s been on your radar since he appeared on a mutual friend’s Instagram. 

“He’s pretty cute isn’t he?”, your friend’s date pushes, lightly bumping his arm against yours. 

You cast him a glance. “Just surprised that there are people who still wear fur coats in this economy.”

“That’s-“

“Song Mingi”, you reply, not taking notice of your friend’s boyfriend’s surprised expression. 

“You know him?”

“Came across him”, you reply a little too quickly. You sure as hell were not about to spill the truth. 

He definitely looks and is intimidating for sure, especially when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice so low that it tickles your ears. You could hear him talk forever, you think. You could imagine how he moans in your ears.

You blink. The fuck?

And so, for the past hour or so, you’ve been stealing glances at the blond male, but unfortunately, there was only so much staring could do, and it was not helping you get the male’s attention. Sure, the both of you actually followed each other (you were surprised when he followed you back), and the way he liked your stories sometimes made your stomach grow butterflies, but you never actually interacted with him in real life. 

It wasn’t until the party was slowing down, when you came back from being distracted by another friend, was when you realise Mingi was gone. A ping of disappointment fills you up, but it’s not as horrendous as the feeling of regret—for not just going up to talk to him. You wonder when you’ll see him again.

You decide to find your friend and call it a night.

“Do you wanna hitch a ride with us?”, your friend asks, uselessly trying to balance herself, her partner holding onto her waist. 

“The driver didn’t drink, I promise”, your friend’s partner assures. 

You open the car door and your eyes widen when you spot Mingi. 

You whip your head to your friend to ask her sincewhen Mingi came with the friend group but you realise you wouldn’t be getting any concrete answers from a tipsy person. 

You glance back at the male donned in the maroon fur coat, who seems rather surprised when he sees that you were the one who opened the car door. 

But Mingi’s expression remains indifferent—god knows what he’s thinking about but you swore you saw a tint of something in his eyes when your friends told you to just sit on his lap because “the car had no space”. 

“Hi, y/n”, Mingi’s deep voice calling your name is kept in a bottle and stored at the back of your head. 

“Hey Mingi”, you greet back, cautiously approaching him. 

“Are you okay with this?” You ask, testing the waters by putting your weight on his left thigh. 

“It’s fine. I’m just worried that it’s gonna be uncomfortable for you since it’s gonna take a while to reach your place right?”

Right. You nod in defeat. 

Your body jolts slightly when you feel Mingi’s touch burn against your skin���especially your thighs. 

His friend on the passenger seat has the aux cord and he’s picked out a song to blast in the speakers. You feel goosebumps bloom across the nape of your neck when Mingi’s voice hits your ear from behind. 

“Sorry, you might need to move in a little more, Princess. We have three more squeezing with us at the back.”

You blink, processing the information before internally thanking the universe that the car is dark so the red flushing against your cheeks gets hidden. 

Soon you find yourself fully on Mingi’s lap, and although you try not to lean too much against him, you realise the position feels awkward, and when Mingi personally shifts you with his hands instead, you decide to stay put. 

The energy in the car is high, even after all that partying, which you easily deduce to be due to the alcohol. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be singing along at the top of your lungs, not when you’re subconsciously aware that Mingi is just behind you. 

Sitting on someone’s lap was definitely not as comfortable as sitting on a car seat, and that was a given, so you find yourself shifting constantly, not realising Mingi closing his fists every time your ass shifts against him, particularly his crotch. 

Suddenly you feel the weight below you shift. Mingi’s arm wraps around your waist, his weight pressing against you. You stay put the moment you feel his lips barely inches away from the shell of your ear. 

“I strongly suggest you try to stay still, y/n, or it’ll become a problem for the both of us.” 

You turn your head slightly, barely enough to capture him within your peripherals. At first, you wonder if you’re starting to annoy him, but when you feel his hands slide down to your thighs and something hard pressing against your ass, you get your answer. 

And you wonder how far you should take this. 

Your face is heating up, at the idea you’re just sitting on Mingi’s thick erection, separated by the fabric of his pants and the ridiculously thin fabric of your body con dress. You wonder about his size, which only gets more vivid since you’re literally sitting right on his fucking cock—how thick he would be, how much he would stretch you open, and it’s making you slowly drench your panties. 

The more his erection is blatantly pressing against you, the more you can’t help but fidget on his lap. You’re wondering why Mingi hasn’t said anything, you wonder if he even felt it at all. The moment that thought forms in your brain, you pick out what sounded like low groans from behind you. Then you feel Mingi’s fingers press against your bare thighs, just this fucking close to lifting your dress. 

Mingi shifts against you, his hard cock now even more prominent against your ass—directly below your pussy if it wasn’t for the fact that there were layers of annoying fabric keeping them apart. 

His deep voice is like a melody in your ear,  “I’m closing an eye if you’re just doing this on accident, but there’s only so much more grinding I can take princess.”

You glance over to the company seated just right beside you—they are still singing their hearts out thanks to the self-assigned DJ of the car. The music was still blasting, and you realise you and Mingi are slowly forming another world—one growing of hot and heavy air. 

You’re trying to weigh your options and risks, but the constant friction of Mingi’s cock just poking you through his pants mixed with the light buzz from the alcohol earlier is keeping you less than logical. 

You lean back, the back of your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the thick coat tickle your cheeks, taking in the scent of his cologne that you swear only he could pull off, the boldness rushing into your veins like adrenaline.

“And if I said it wasn’t an accident?”

You don’t know what he might do next, but it’s making your legs tremble by the second. Your clit is fucking throbbing from the sheer anticipation. 

Mingi’s eyes dart to glance at you while his head remains positioned straight, before he presses himself onto you with a smirk against your ears, “Right. Glad we cleared that up, princess.” 

His hands press on the sides of your throat, two fingers tipping your jaw to turn your head to face him as he clashes his lips against yours, and you’re ready for him to just take whatever the fuck you have left. You’re doing your best to muffle your moans through the kisses, but as every second passes, you’re ready to give into it—mostly scream his fucking name into the night at this point. 

Your eyes are so glazed out, your pussy throbbing and drenched, your mind so sexually frustrated the more Mingi keeps you waiting. Mingi’s fingers trail along your bare thighs, his legs forcing yours to stay open, easily letting the gather of your dress push upwards, while his fingers push your panties to the side. You hear him mutter fuck when your wet cunt drenches his fingers. He barely drags his fingers over your clit, yet you already feel like you’re about to burst. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” Mingi asks, sinking his gaze into yours. You swallow hard and nod, so fucking entranced by his sharp eyes behind the glasses, and alongside the fact that his fingers are rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Fuck me. You’re so fucking wet for me”, he hisses, eating up your moans as he fits his thick fingers into your pussy, filling you up instantly. Oh god. You feel your mind completely blank out at the sensation of Song Mingi stretching you out. 

You swear that the wet sounds of Mingi’s fingers fucking your sopping cunt were louder than the music, but for some reason, and thank fuck, no one else seemed to notice. Yet. 

His other hand clasps over your mouth as he watches your eyes roll back, your desperate and satisfied moans muffled every time his thumb presses against your clit while his fingers fill you up again and again. 

You shouldn’t have agreed to stay quiet. 

Mingi’s legs are strong as fuck because his knees keep your legs from snapping shut as you let the feeling build in your stomach. Your hips are involuntarily bucking against his fingers, craving for him to fuck his fingers deeper. Shit. You can’t seem to get enough. He releases his hand off your mouth for a while, letting it wander to your tits, rolling your nipples over your dress with his fingers, listening to you pant and whimper.  

“Can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt once we get off”, he mutters into your ear, increasing his pressure on your clit. 

“Please… fuck! Mingi…” you trail, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. But the knot tightens hard and taut. You’re about to snap anytime soon. 

“Cum on my fingers for me, y/n. Show me how your cunt is gonna feel like when my cock is gonna stuff you full.”

His hand goes back to clamping over your mouth to muffle your cries while your orgasm rips through your body. Your eyes roll back, and your back arched against his abdomen, the pleasure spreading through every nerve while he’s still fucking you with his fingers, enjoying the way you’re completely undone because of him. Your cunt can’t seem to stop spasming and it’s only from his fucking fingers. 

But it slowly wears off, and he releases his hand from your mouth, letting you catch your breath. 

His fingers slowly leave your spent and creamy cunt, and for a split second, you’re almost disappointed. You turn your head, watching Mingi slide his stained fingers past his lips, licking them clean, and his eyes locked onto you. 

“You taste so fucking good, Princess”, he whispers, before his hands are on your throat again, pulling you in for a wet kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue, your face heating up at his words once more. 

The split second you pull away from him is when the music stops, and you hear your name being called.

“Y/n!”

Your eyes widen, and Mingi lowers his knees, letting you quickly shut your legs, letting his arm rest close to your legs, blocked by his fur coat. Thank fuck you’re in the dark. 

“This is your stop right?” Your friend asks before she turns on the interior car lights. You glance at the apartment building and sure enough, it is your apartment building. 

“Right”, you manage to answer with a forced smile. 

And as you are about to leave the car, Mingi suddenly announces, “I’ll send her up. Don’t wait for me.” He takes off his fur coat, draping it over your shoulders, quickly turning away as he pushes the car door open, ignoring the suggestive looks his group of friends were giving him before curtly saying his goodbyes and shutting the car door. 

Mingi is pretty much gentle with you as the both of you head up to your apartment, asking if you’re feeling cold, even though he’s only in a black tank top. You can’t help but gawk at how he looks even under shitty elevator lights—still so fucking hot. His fingers haven’t let go of yours yet since the both of you left the car, and he sure isn’t letting you go when the both of you reach to the door of your apartment. 

You feel so ridiculous in this oversized fur coat, but the fact that Mingi’s smell is just all over it makes you turn a blind eye to it. 

You unlock the door, pushing it open, the post nut clarity hitting, but the realisation of Mingi in a private space with you sending you mind into the gutter. 

And suddenly you feel your cunt throb again. Fuckin hell. 

“Cute place you have there”, he comments, slipping his shoes off. 

“I try to make the most out of it”, you return, taking off the fur coat, handing it back to him. 

Mingi pauses, staying near the door.

“I got no clue why I left the car like that, y/n. If you want me to leave, I can just call a cab and-“ 

His mouth runs, watching the way you’re walking towards him, and his lips snap shut when you pull him in for an open mouth kiss, his thoughts completely disappearing like they never existed. 

“Finish what you started, Minki”, you whisper when you pull away. 

For once, you like the way red looks on his pretty face, the red that disappears when he catches on, eye fucking you while thinking how fucking hot you look under normal apartment lights than the dim lights. 

His hands cup the back of your neck before his fingers are on your scalp, tugging your hair to face him, letting his lips collide with yours. You taste him so much more intensely now, and fuck does he taste like heaven. 

You feel his hands leave your head, going for your wrists instead, and he backs you up against the wall, deciding to pin your fucking wrists against the wall while stealing all of the oxygen you have left in between pants. 

His fingers trail down so lightly across your skin, you feel like you’re about to combust. 

“Is the couch fine for you?” He asks. You nod, just internally begging him to do anything to you. 

His hands slip down to your thighs, carrying you up in his arms, kissing and sucking against the skin of your neck while he navigates through your apartment. When he does find the couch (rather quickly), he lets you fall onto it, watching the way your dress rides up higher to your hips, your soaked panties coming into view, and his cock growing hard once more. 

“You know, you’re honestly killing me with that dress”, Mingi comments, his fingers tugging off your drenched panties, almost salivating over your glistening cunt. “Had to hold back from just pulling you out and fucking you.”

Oh, fucking gods. 

“That’s why we’re here now, aren’t we?” You tease, watching his satisfied grin grow bigger. 

You can’t wait for him to fuck your brains out. 

Mingi squats, letting his face press against your bare cunt, giving licks up, his tongue pressing against your clit while holding your legs apart. He thinks your whimpers and begs are like a fucking symphony—and he could listen to them over and over again while he breaks you, over and over again. 

It doesn’t last long, unfortunately, because he feels like he’s about to burst the longer he waits, his cock bulging against the fabric of his pants. 

So Mingi unbuckles his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear, his thick and long cock springs from his apparel, wet and decorated in thick precum. He gives himself quick strokes, amused by the way your face is turning a soft shade of pink. 

His thick fingers once again hold your wrists above you, lining his cock up to your pretty hole and pushing himself in, his girth taking up all space instantly. You see stars splatter beneath your eyelids as his cock stretches you out—thick and heavy. 

“Fuck. Song Mingi-“ you cry out, struggling against his grasp. 

“So fuckin tight, princess. Fuck, you feel so fucking good”, he sighs, letting himself bottom out in you, relishing in the way your face completely contorts into pleasure when he’s fully seated in you. 

And when he starts fucking you, your eyes roll back—the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you switching off most of your senses. 

You sense his arms pining your wrists are growing tired, so you do your best to tap his arm, and Mingi lets go, watching you slide his wrist down to your throat. 

You sure know how to push his buttons. 

He applies pressure and it hits all the perfect spots. A choked moan escapes you while he fucks you dumb. 

“I’d love to choke you more, princess, but I really need you to ride me right now”, Mingi whispers, his fingers leaving your throat, and he pulls his cock out. 

You climb onto his lap, lining his cock before you push yourself down, his fullness knocking the wind out of you once more. 

“Are you gonna take all of my cum like a good girl?” He hums, wiping away the tears from your eyes. You nod weakly, biting your lip. 

“That’s my good girl”, he compliments, and it makes your heart fucking soar. Mingi bounces you on his cock, groaning at the way you’re squeezing around him. “Fuck, squeeze me just like that. God, your pussy feels so fucking amazing, princess.”

“Mingi, I’m so close. Oh fuck I’m gonna-“

Mingi only holds your thighs down, watching you shake, feeling your cunt just clenching down and flutter on his cock, cream seeping down his shaft, and he groans in your ear, keeping himself deep in your pussy, his thick cum flooding into your tight cunt, listening to you curse while he forces you to ride out your high. 

“So fucking good. Mingi…” you mutter through tears and hiccup, letting Mingi kiss your tears before he slowly pulls his wet cock out of you, satisfied at the way his cum slowly trickles out of you while you catch your breath. 

Mingi waits for your mind to slowly clear, and you climb off him, but your fingers stay interlocked with his. 

“We can wash up and order food if you want”, you say, trying to avoid the fact that you’re still flushing slightly considering Song Mingi made a wreck out of you. 

But he pulls you along with him. 

“An invitation to shower together? I’ll gladly fuckin take it, princess.”