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muddyorbsblr · 2 days ago

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the final Lady Sharpe part 7: the air of finality

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: The time has come for you to head back into the city and finish the plan you'd agreed on with Thomas your first night at Allerdale Hall

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: married idiots in love angst; steamy (?) makeout session; mentions of Lucille; mentions of divorce [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Thomas & Reader are married (for now)

This is nice, Thomas mused, smiling to himself as he opened his eyes to the bedroom awash with the morning light and seeing you still sleeping peacefully in his arms. He lightly ran his fingers through your hair, the motion causing your sleeping form to stir and hold him a bit tighter, a sigh escaping your lips as you positioned your head to rest on his chest.

This was the picture of tranquility as far as he was concerned. All he needed moving forward was knowing that your face would be the first thing he sees in the morning, and the last before he sleeps in the night.

But what put his heart at a state of unease was the knowledge that this tranquility would not last forever. Your wounds from your altercation with Lucille during her arrest were all but fully healed, mercifully none of them quite as severe as to lead to a scar.

I want you to stay, the words defiantly tried to fight out from the back of his throat, weighing his tongue down like lead. What use is this freedom if I don't get to spend it with the woman I love?

He couldn't help but to place a tender kiss to the crown of your head, his fingers grasping at the fabric of your nightgown desperately. The motion caused you to stir again, this time a grumble slipping through your lips. "Good morning," you mumbled, almost incoherently.

"Good morning, wife," he said softly, reverently. Savoring the word on his tongue for fear it may be his last chance to call you that.

"l think I'll be going into town today," you said, moving out of his embrace and stretching your arms out. "I've finished with penning Edith's novel some days ago, and her spirit passed on when I swore to her I'd have the book published. That shall be my task for today. Along with some…other errands."

You forced a smile on your face as you reached for his hand. Had you not been so focused on masking your own emotions, if you listened closely you might have heard the sound of the baronet's heart splintering at your words.

No, it's too soon, the words danced on the tip of his tongue. Instead the words that escaped him were, "Let me make you some breakfast then, darling." He could barely say the next words aloud. "Before you go."

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought that Thomas was trying to stall you from leaving the manor and going into the city. Starting with the more elaborate than usual breakfast he'd prepared of breakfast sausage and scrambled eggs and even jam on toast, and then suggesting that you two have your tea in the library.

That was where you two were now, seated together on a chaise as your husband held you close to him, hand skimming aimlessly up and down your arm while he read aloud the lines of Shakespeare's sixty-fifth sonnet. And while it was all too tempting to allow yourself to succumb into the comfort of his embrace, and the familiarity of his company, the somber truth was that this comfort and familiarity was simply not yours to keep.

"O, none, unless this miracle have might,

That in black ink my love may still shine bright," he finished softly, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head before turning the page.

A quick look out the window had a pit of dread sinking into your stomach once again. If you were being truthful with yourself, it hadn't left since woke earlier this morning. But now, on this uncharacteristically and almost offensively sunny day, you could see that the sun was steadily reaching its highest point.

"That really was lovely, Thomas." You forced yourself to give him a small smile as you finished off your tea. "I should get going…if I want to catch the printing press before the day ends."

The smile that illuminated his beautiful face dropped at your words, and you wanted nothing more than to take them back. To know what the right words were to get him to smile at you and brighten the room once more. Power through this, Y/N, you told yourself. He will smile again soon enough, and that should be worth all this heartache. Even if you will not be the one to see it after today.

"Very well," he said, his voice suddenly strained before he cleared his throat. He offered his hand to you, helping you stand. "I shall see you to the door." His face was stone cold as he walked you to the massive double doors of the manor.

Despite your effort to think of quite literally anything else, your mind ruefully wandered to your first night here in Allerdale Hall just barely over a month ago. When he lifted you into his arms to bring you across the threshold. At no point in your entire endeavor did you think that this part would cause such a heavy ache in your heart. That you would have to dig deep into your soul to find the strength to walk away from the man that you wanted nothing more than to call your husband.

"This shouldn't take too long, hopefully I'll be back before to--" Your words were cut short, dying with a faint squeak when Thomas pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours in a fevered kiss.

You allowed yourself this last indulgence, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of his lips moving against yours. Of him wrapping his arm around you to pull you in closer, hold you tighter. Of the way your entire body weakened when he licked into your mouth and his tongue tangled with yours, your muffled moans the only sound that filled the vast emptiness of the manor.

"Hurry back, wife," he said shakily when he pulled away, pressing a final soft kiss to your lips before he loosened his hold on you. He didn't take his eyes off you until the carriage began to move, offering you a somber smile and a wave before walked back into the house, closing the door behind him.

Only when Allerdale Hall was so far from your view did you allow the tears to roll down your face, crying into your sleeve knowing that you'd shared your final kiss with your husband. And by the day's end you would no longer be Y/N Sharpe.

Had you given in to the urge to turn back around and return to the manor, you would have found the baronet in a similar state, sat on the floor and crying his heart out, pleading with any god that would listen that there had to be another way.

"All you have to do now is sign this affidavit that according to your findings from your investigation independent of Scotland Yard's, the evidence you found that could incriminate Thomas Sharpe was circumstantial and negligible," Jeffries told you, handing you over a thin bundle of papers that summarized the nearly four weeks that you spent in Allerdale Hall. It almost felt surreal seeing that time condensed into such impersonal words.

He handed you a pen, one of the secretaries at the station walking over and giving him another stack of papers. A lump formed in your throat at the sight. You knew exactly what those papers held. And once you'd signed your affidavit, that stack was slid over the desk in your direction.

"And the dissolution of marriage documents," he said, visibly pausing when he made a motion to place a hand on your shoulder. "Are you sure about this, Y/N? That this is something that you both want? He seemed rather--"

"It's what's best, Jeffries," you cut him off. "I didn't help him get out of one prison just to keep him in another."

Before you could even second guess yourself, you took the papers from the detective and scribbled your signature on the last page. You wouldn't be able to sign it in front of Thomas; you knew yourself far too well.

"So that's that then," you said a touch too loudly, forcing a smile onto your face as you tied the papers together with a long string of twine before shoving them back in the envelope. You smoothed your hands over your dress as you stood before holding your hand out to Jeffries. "Thank you. I should be available again for any new cases that may arise sometime next week."

"Sharpe--I mean, Y/L/N," he corrected himself. "I say this as a friend, you faced off against a woman who I can only refer to as one of the most horrifying, hedonistic, and sadistic criminals that any one of us would have ever had the displeasure of knowing. And you evaded her poisons and her cleaver for the better part of a month while you put together and executed a plan that can now put her away for the rest of your natural life. You deserve some time off. Allow yourself to unwind before jumping back into the thick of it with the rest of us."

You knew that he meant well, but something that he would likely never understand was the simple yet somber truth that you needed to get back into the overwhelming load from taking on a new case. Otherwise you would be left alone in your apartment in the city, with nothing but the memories of the nights with Thomas to keep you company.

Especially your memories of your night together at the post office.

"I'll think about it," you told him, shaking the detective's hand before heading out of the station.

The officers that were taking down the case files for Edith and Enola and the rest of Lucille's victims stopped when you drew closer, offering you pats on the back and their congratulations for closing the cases. And for finally being able to give the families that mourned them the closure that they surely needed to move forward.

Your next stop was fairly straightforward. The bank. To deposit a token of gratitude extended to you by the family of your most recent solve from before you married Thomas. With the amount being added to your account, you briefly contemplated taking that time off that Jeffries had mentioned, but brushing off the idea just as quickly.

Afterward you purchased two bouquets of tulips and headed to the cemetery. It took a while to find them, but eventually you landed at the graves of Edith Cushing and Enola Sciotti.

"I've come to give you my thanks," you said, hoping that wherever their souls had gone since leaving Allerdale Hall, they could still somehow hear you. "If it weren't for your help, I'd probably be a ghost, too. And we'd all be stuck in that manor.

"Wherever you've found yourselves, I hope it's someplace breathtakingly beautiful and we can all see each other again one day. Just…maybe not so soon. Who knows? Maybe there's life left for me to live. Somewhere else…with someone else."

You choked on those last words, the pit in your stomach worsening knowing that in just a few short hours you'd have to stand and watch as Thomas signed his name on those forsaken papers. And you'd have to hold back every impulsive thought to stop him.

"I suppose since it's only us here, I can allow myself the indulgence of a touch of honesty," you spoke into the foggy London air, letting the tears roll down your cheeks with no thought of wiping them away. "I don't want to leave him, and I know that's selfish because that just means I'm keeping him hostage in my own twisted way. But I love him, and that's why I want to keep him. But it's also because I love him that I can't--No, I shouldn't be selfish."

Your heart ached as you finally confessed, saying the words you'd been protecting so fiercely for weeks now.

"But he deserves to have his life back," you said with a sniffle, standing up and resting your hand on Edith's tombstone. "And you deserve peace, my friend. I'll be seeing you…someday."

You righted yourself back up to your feet, smoothing your hands over your dress again before you called for a carriage back to your apartment in the city. There would be much tidying up to do considering how long you'd been away, and it was best to get to that before you returned there again with a shattered heart.

The divorce documents weighed heavily in both your satchel and your heart. Would you even be able to watch as Thomas signed his name next to yours? Could you bear to see the smile of relief on his heartbreakingly handsome features once he regained his freedom?

Ultimately you knew that you couldn't, but that you must. And you must do it without a word of protest, and with a smile on your face. This was to be a day for celebration for the baronet. You refused to be the one to put a dampener on the mood.

Walking down the familiar halls of your old apartment building nearly felt as if the gods were taunting you. Tutting and tsk'ing away as they watched you return to where you began, seeing the adventure you'd found yourself on and foolishly falling in love with the very man you had to bid farewell to in a few short hours.

This place that had once been a safe haven, somewhere for you to rest and recuperate and put your blades away, now reminded you of your twisted failure in life. Finally finding what you'd thought to be love only to be brought into the path of that wretched Lucille. And then for the events to unfold the way they had, leading to what may very well be the biggest arrest of your career.

You'd put away what both you and your colleagues at Scotland Yard could objectively classify as a serial killer. Put an end to the maniacal Sharpe's ways for the rest of her natural life. Brought closure to four grieving families.

In truth, you should be celebrating this win as well. And all you could think about was your impending goodbye.

An unfamiliar shape by your door caught your attention, finally looking up and nearly dropping your keys from the complete shock to your entire body once you'd gotten close enough to realize who was at your door.

"Thomas?"

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! Gonna kick off the year with hopefully a good productivity kick that'll set the scene for the rest of 2025 because goddammit there's so much I wanna write, there's like 4 more things in my current writing queue (including something from RTC, something from OLTK, the start of 'back to you' FINALLY, and the smutty conclusion to 'feels like mine')…and then there's even more after that 🫡

Also back in 2022 when I planned out the story points for this series, I really did intend to leave this chapter at that cliffhanger and I fully intended to deliver…and hopefully the final (?) chapter will find its way into my noggin soon 🫠

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe smut #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #the final lady sharpe #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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lynxfrost13 · 3 months ago

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Maybe I’ll finally Wanze post soon

#as in a more official lore post like holt awol and sonderbar got #ALSO IM SO SO SORRY I STILL AM GONNA ANSWER THOSE INBOX ASKS J SWEAR #Wanze is on the mind there is bugs in my brain!!! wow just like holt huh #their relationship is wild to me they go from barely knowing each other (occasional hallway acquaintances)#to Wanze essentially having the equivalent of a bag of bricks dropped onto her head #which needs a little or a lot of patching up and Holt does that for her #actually hmmm I wonder if I should more visibly leave some marks of The Oopsie on her face #apart from the permanently broken biores crystals #gotta think on that…#anyway I was especially Thinkin about how Wanze really does resent Holt for a while #it’s complicated it’s not completely Holt’s fault #like she can’t control what happened she can’t bring back her bioresonance she’s a medical eule not a miracle worker #she’ll never really understand what it felt like to be part of that mind link #and that leads to some insensitivity on Holt’s part bc she’s really trying to keep Wanze from decommission here #and Wanze! why are you moping you gotta act normal!! Come on Wanze!#neither of them really get each other bc they’re both not stopping and listening like they need to #but they eventually do #also fun Wanze fact but post head trauma fixup she still has to/wants to go to the kolibri library #for stabilization yknow (she’s a nerdddd <3)#however it’s weird and she hates it bc her fellow kolibris are there.#she does not sing the same song anymore and sticks out like a sore thumb when they’re together now :(#she goes at really weird hours when no one else is there to make sure she doesn’t have to see them #Holt sometimes is able to get ahold of books for her #consider them cuddling together reading #that is all #blorbo tag #wanze #holt #Kolibug

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fourswords · 1 year ago

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in my free time i'm typing out a little post-adventure of link story from loz 1 zelda's perspective on link bringing this OTHER princess zelda who was apparently asleep for centuries (and thank you SO much for the WARNING that he was going to be DOING this, IMPA [<-entirely sarcastic]) back to the castle and the acclimatization of everyone to the whole situation and it's genuinely so fun. loz 1 zelda's standing there like alright how do i gently break it to my relative from the distant peaceful past that she has to learn how to fight in this time period or she's going to get ripped to shreds by monsters. and then she says exactly that and when aol zelda predictably looks mildly freaked out about the subject and is just standing there internally screaming like yep! okay! sure! death and destruction is rampant in this world and it kind of makes me wish i'd never woken up at all! when do fighting lessons start! loz 1 zelda is just standing there like. hm. was that not gentle enough. i feel like that wasn't gentle enough.

#it's about the severe disparity between their times.#when you grow up in a golden era of peace and you are a literal princess and your father is. iirc the correct wording used in the manual.#a child of a man. you are not going to learn how to fight. ESPECIALLY when you have an older brother who'll be the successor to the throne #when you are the princess in a time of peace then everything is going to be about image. about perfection. about being everything #the people expect from a daughter of royalty. a status symbol of ultimate proportions. so it goes #but when you are a princess in a time of complete and utter destruction. when you are a princess in a time where it is a miracle to even #survive the day sometimes. what good is image? what good are expectations?#the people of your land are survivors. they survived for a reason. lord yourself above them and there is every chance they could #destroy the last drop of royalty they have left. there is no manpower in the form of an army of knights.#and you are a survivor too. you shattered your birthright and fought your way across the land and through dungeons #to hide the pieces and you were captured and held within a cage of flames for god knows how long #and still you survived. so even though your people bite and rage you love them because you did the same.#there is never anmention of her parents. as far as we know they're dead and she was simply waiting until she was of age to be crowned queen #(<-a mention*)#so she is no status symbol. there is no perfection with her. the people begrudgingly look to her to lead them out of the hell #that has become their world and by god is she going to do it. and there is nothing left she can offer these people but brutal honesty #which is the only honesty this world has to offer anyway. it's only honesty everyone knows.#no pussyfooting around like rich people do with their speech where they say one thing and mean another. a habit i'm sure #would only flourish in peacetime. none of that. if you are not clear with your words and intentions in a land where everything wants you #dead then that's a one-way ticket to getting yourself or someone else fucking killed.#so it's like. the two main aspects of how they were raised kind of clashing full force with each other #you can only be so gentle when you grew up in a land devoid of it. you can only shape yourself into a fighter so much #when you grew up with the concept of it being foreign to you. yknow #gestures incoherently at them. blorbos truly.......#txt

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404-unfoundbymystudents · 4 days ago

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Sometimes, you go to uni. And someone says "hey, nice Zelda bag, do you play board games?"

And then you are chatting to someone at uni board games club, and they mention that they're starting a dnd club.

So you go to that. And the guy in charge of the dnd club isn't great, but you meet two people at the table who are pretty cool.

So you end up leaving the club, but playing a dnd campaign with these people.

And then, later, a new person joins, who's trans. And it reminds you of the ache you have felt your entire life, the knowledge that Your Body is Not It.

So, you come out to the dnd group, because you know they are welcoming to the other guy.

And one of them says "have you got a name? No way I'm calling you by your deadname". And so, he starts calling you by the character you just cosplayed.

The name sticks.

Later, it turns out this guy is a bit of a prick (and also would only date "real" guys. Not that I wanted to date him, but, red flag).

But you're still at uni, and you do like dnd. So you find a group on the other side of town via a local Facebook group.

Eventually, the DMs unwillingness to "lose" to the players grates on your nerves, and you use uni work as an excuse to stop playing.

A few months later, one of the other players says "hey, I'm running a game, do you wanna join? I've quit [redacted]s game because he doesn't listen to feedback".

And you say yes.

Most of the rest of the players haven't played before, but it's a lot of great people and it's a decent game.

And there, outside the house after the game, a game that took so many tiny coincidences to get to, so many people that had good, bad, neutral impacts on me.

I sat on the curb and talked to the person that would end up being my best friend. Someone who has changed my life for the better in so many ways. (Even if I didn't know it at the time)

Anyway, @thatgirlwhokeepsreading I'm sure this is exactly what you expected when you reblogged this post. (it's not Esther day, but I love U)

(and beyond that even. Through this, I met some more people and then more, including a guy who was just starting his trans journey - 6 years after I had started mine. And I have been so happy to be able to 'big bro' support him, and I know he appreciates having someone to talk to)

What’s crazy is you can just meet someone and have no idea they’re going to change your life forever

#the roman republic to 50 shades direct connection #i dont believe in a god #but if she does exist #im thankful for all the little nudges that got me on this path.#transgender #take a minute and appreciate the people you have #and the miracles that lead you to having them

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countlessimagines · 5 months ago

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Your World [ Wolverine x Reader ]

Summary: your Wolverine was your whole world.

A/N: I like writing angsty stuff and this movie provided me with the best possible scenarios <3 hehehe I love wolverine

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of blood

Marvel MASTERLIST Link here

SPOILERS BELOW

It wasn’t an ideal love story that brought you back to Logan.

Being a mutant with incredible healing abilities and a broken heart made it so easy for Stryker to capture you. Your Wolverine had been the one to rescue you from the clutches of Stryker and the horrible fate that loomed over your head. All the days of experiments and cold rooms where you’d be injected with who knows what, it all lead to him.

But you always had to remind yourself that Logan had gotten you out, made you a X-Men, but found the brutal truth of how dangerous it was to be loved by you.

You loved deeply and endlessly, like a void waiting for eternity to be loved and to love. Logan was exactly what your heart desired for years.

Someone who could never die, never leave you.

Fighting alongside each other became a beautiful symphony. And God protect anyone who caused you harm, because Logan would only see red and slice them to pieces. It was a miracle none of the X-men had been torn to shreds, but Scott always came close.

The team would always joke about your relationship, saying how could an innocent soul be in love with such a brute like Wolverine.

But Logan knew the only way he could breathe was to be with you, to hold you, to kiss and love you.

He would always find his way to you no matter the circumstance.

Beast was holding you in the infirmary because he wanted to run tests? Logan was there.

Storm and Jean wanted to have a girls night? Logan was sitting outside the room in case anything happened.

Scott was training you in hand to hand combat? Logan was definitely there.

Your world consisted of him and him only.

And maybe that is why it hurt so much when he let your entire team die, because you had not made them your whole world.

You had been away on a mission by yourself when you received the news of their passing. You returned to a bloodied home, no sign of Wolverine to be found.

Life began to blur after what happened. You had to go into hiding, because people blamed you for what happened, too. And there was no one there to stop you from spiraling into a flurry of self hatred.

Hatred for what you had become. A love sick puppy so consumed with Logan only. Maybe if you had been there, maybe if you hadn’t put so much trust in him, maybe if you could have taken the hits for your team.

And the thought that stuck with you the most, if you had been there, screaming for help - would Logan had only saved you and left the rest to die?

Because the love you shared was slowly becoming so obvious to you that it was not pure or natural, but rather so simple it would have made you and Logan public enemy number one.

But you supposed that had already happened, too.

Your mutant abilities were the only thing you had left, so you consumed yourself in underground work. Becoming exactly what the X-men had fought against.

Shedding your uniform, you had to separate yourself from the X-men because people recognized you too easily. It was hard to find any work where people wanted a tainted mutant.

You tried your hardest to not let every moment be consumed by the thought of Logan. He had never reached out to you after the event, despite the grief between you so overwhelmingly strong. He couldn’t face you and love someone who would have stepped through hell and back for him.

He felt as if he didn’t deserve it.

So time continued to pass as the bond between the two of you was severed so deeply that it was suffocating to be apart.

But it wasn’t until Deadpool showed up to your apartment that you were finally addressing your past.

“Leave, now. I’m not hearing any of your bullshit.” You tried to close your door but he stopped it.

“Please, c’mon. I need you! Wolverine needs you!”

You tensed at the mere mention of him. “If he needed me so desperately, it is far too late for him to come back.”

“But you’re his one and only, for fuck’s sake! Every variant I’ve met of him has had a you stalking around like a lap dog. You know how many of you’s have beaten the shit out of me?” He rambled on, and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t care to understand what you’re saying, so goodbye, Wade!”

Deadpool sighed before kicking the door in and stabbing you through the chest with one of his blades. You stared at him in shock and couldn’t register anything as he flung you over his shoulder into an orange portal.

You landed on a hard ground that pushed the blade out of you. “Wade, you’re a dead man.”

He stepped through the portal and leaned over your body. “Sorry about that, but I can’t die so you’re stuck with not only me, but Wolverine!”

Deadpool giggled and ran off, making sure to rip the blade out of your stomach. You winced but felt your regeneration cells working to stitch you back together.

Slowly sitting up, you spat out blood.

“I tried to tell him not to bring you into this.”

You froze at the voice you fought to forget, willing calm into your fast beating heart.

Sitting up fully only made your legs wobble and your head spin. But you had to look up into the eyes of the man you still loved.

Logan looked different, healthier and happier. It only made you feel sick.

“I’ve been busy.” He said it so casually that it made you want to slap his chest for the lack of greeting. “Wade gave me a second chance. I helped save his world.”

“You haven’t seen me in years and you choose to brag?” You scoffed, removing your shirt to assess the damage Wade had done to your shirt.

Logan sucked in a breath as he took in your battle worn scars. Despite your healing factor, you still kept every scar from every wound you had endured.

He remembered the last time he saw you, you only adorned a few on your chest and stomach.

Now it was littered with them.

“You’ve been busy too, I gather?” Logan said with a hint of sarcasm.

You glared at him. “Why am I here?”

“Wade thought that I needed you.” He admitted it with such ease, like he knew it to be true in his heart.

“And? Do you need me?”

He hesitated before answering. “I’ve always needed you… and I think that’s why I let myself go for so many years. Because I knew that no matter what I did or said to you, you would never forgive me. I would always be the one who let our team die… let you go.”

“Well you’re right, because I never would forgive you. Not after abandoning all of us,” you choked out, the tears beginning to creep into the corners of your eyes. “I loved you fiercely, Logan. All it would have taken was one call during those first few days and I would have been there for you. We could’ve been healing together. But you chose this life of despair for both of us, Logan.”

“I know.” He said, his own eyes watering.

“I despise you.” You said, but your heart was breaking, letting out the true feelings. It was bleeding for him and for him only.

Logan stepped closer and you did not stop him.

“I want nothing to do with you.” You said, your voice cracking.

“I understand.” He said, five feet away from you now.

“I hate you.” You began to weep, the blood in your heart revealing what you wanted truly.

“I don’t blame you.” Logan closed the gap between the two of you, holding you close to his chest. You cried into his shoulder, holding on for dear life. “I’m never leaving you again.”

All you could muster was a small nod, your tears staining his shirt. His own were dripping onto the top of your head.

And in the empty apartment, you and Logan stood, holding onto each other.

Holding your world together.

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sooniebby · 29 days ago

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ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄

w.c › 11k

plot › this Drabble I had, but expanded. And changed the ending for this part.

warnings › for all characters in the group — faceclaim. Bottom male reader. Age gap, reader is four years older than OC. Reader’s last name is Hong. Unreliable narrator. Slow burn, Mingi is the main romance but you do dabble with the other members.

kinks › body worship, cross dressing, size difference

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male. Dongsaeng (동생) — little brother/sister, doesn’t have to be a biological sibling/can be a friend. Aegyo(애교) — a way of acting cute in Korea culture.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

At the age of twenty-one, you thought had run out of time to debut. You did end up debuting with five other boys, as the leader no less. Of course being from a small company meant your debut wasn’t that big but it was better than nothing.

The group was called 미라클 (Miracle). The company wanted a boy group to sell a boyfriend fantasy to fans, especially female fans.

You and your group were even advertise as specific types of boyfriends.

Hong (Name), leader of Miracle had a nice ring to it. Advertised as the no-nonsense boyfriend, cold but caring.

박요한 (Park Yohan), sub vocalist and lead dancer of Miracle. Debuted at the age of twenty. Advertised as the athletic boyfriend, energetic and upbeat.

김기현 (Kim Kihyun), lead vocalist and main dancer of Miracle. He was the same age as Yohan. Advertised as the artistic boyfriend, writes music just for you (the fan).

박도하 (Park Doha), main rapper of Miracle. Debuted at the age of nineteen. Advertised as the bad boy, with a hidden heart of gold.

양효진 (Yang Hyojin), sub vocalist and lead rapper of Miracle, under the stage name Jin. Debuted at the age of eighteen. Advertised as the guitarist boyfriend, shy but sweet.

최민기 (Choi Mingi), main vocalist of Miracle. The maknae, debuting at age seventeen. Advertised as the golden retriever boyfriend, naive and well meaning.

With the two underage members, you were a bit worried about them being used to portray a fantasy. But any worries you had were always pushed aside. In the end you ended up trying to protect Mingi and Hyojin by yourself, and even the other members.

Which led to the first two years of your group to label you as “Miracle’s Dad.”

It didn’t bother you, though it did ruin the whole boyfriend image for you. Most of the fans could only really see you as the group’s parent, and by extension, their own.

The company ended up leaning into it. Follow the money or whatever.

The groups debut was school boy concept. It made sense though you felt weird being twenty-one dancing in a school uniform. Over time as the members grew older, the company allowed you guys to experiment to more mature music.

But the group really blew up when the group was four years old. You had turned twenty-five and basically begged the company to finally allow the group to have a sensual concept.

They refused, obviously. But they allowed the b-side that you’d guys promote be just a little bit sensual.

Embarrassing to say that you quickly leaned into it. You performed the b-side as if your rent was due. In the end it worked out for you.

Who knew acting sexual on stage would make people like you more. It also helped that you wore revealing clothes in comparison to everyone else. The stylist practically went to town with your outfit.

Skin tight leather pants that had a hole on your right thigh. A black crop top that showed off your stomach, a waist chain, and heavy black eye makeup. Most of all, a freaking choker that you purposefully played with during the performance.

In any case, your little performance helped bring Miracle more fans. The next fan meeting was sold out in just one day! A first for your group.

Which lead to today, the fan meeting.

“Are you going to wear a choker again?”

You flinched as a chin rest on your shoulder. Your eyes moved from your phone as you glanced over at Yohan, who had just finished makeup. Yohan gave you a cheeky smirk as you rolled your eyes and pushed him away.

“Why would I wear it for a fan meeting? The theme is costumes.” You said, checking the time. You were next to get your outfit and makeup down. The fan meeting had fallen on Halloween so the company took the chance to have you all dress up.

Yohan was a butler by the looks of it. His dyed pink hair slicked back, a pair of fake glasses on the bridge of his nose. He pulled out his phone, “you sure you don’t want to get a side account? The fans are funny as fuck.”

He’d been pestering you about seeing what everyone online thought about you but you weren’t exactly into that. Besides, it’s for the fans mostly, wouldn’t it be weird if you bothered them?

“Hong (Name).”

“Gotta go.” You said, getting up.

“I hope they put you in another choker!”

Yohan was right, you would be getting a choker again.

But not in the way you thought.

You stared in the mirror just as a few staff members told your group that the fans were here.

You were dressed a princess, Cinderella to be exact. Y’know, you expected something to go with the recent rise of your popularity. Something sexy, not this cute outfit. The blonde wig was cheap but still managed to look decent due to the stylist’s touches.

The dress was blue and puffy, somehow fitting you. It was knee length, possibly due to your height. There was a bit of tightness around your chest. Was this originally for a girl? You shook your head. There was a blue little choker that matched the light blue gloves you wore.

The shoes you wore were just sneakers, the stylist got lazy at the end. You had on white thigh highs that had a frilly top at the end. Despite your slight disappointment, you couldn’t lie that you were cute.

The stylist did perfect girlish make up on you, somehow managing to make your face look feminine. Oh well, you could cross off cross dressing on your bucket list!

“Looking good, Princess!” Yohan appeared behind you, grinning. Kihyun was right beside him, taking in your outfit.

Kihyun was a cowboy. His hat slipping down when he looked back up at you. “You look good, Hyung. Did you shave?” He pushed the hat back up.

“I usually shave.” You said, shrugging. “Hairless legs feel nice.”

Yohan hummed. “Hm,” he fixed your wig when it looked tilted. “Maybe I should shave. Hey, Kihyun, wanna help a hyung out?”

“Don’t even come near me.” Kihyun rolled his eyes, quickly walking away.

“Look at him… Our dongsaengs are so mean nowadays.” Yohan shook his head as he let out an exasperated sigh. You rolled your eyes and began to drag Yohan out to the back of the stage.

Everyone else was already there.

The staff motioned for you all to rush out onto stage one by one. The youngest went first. You almost felt nervous going out but stood tall as you walked out last.

The fans screams were almost deafening. You almost covered your ears subconsciously. Your lips twitched as you tried to fight back a smile, it was one of the few times they ever screamed that loud when you came on stage.

It was always Mingi or Kihyun, the most biased out of the group.

The fan meet went as it always does. Miras, Miracle’s fandom name, were excited to see the group. Little dances or karaoke performances of other groups songs. For the first time, fans actually called out your name to take more pictures of you.

Any nervousness you had over the dress was long gone by this point. You decided to let loose and get into the ‘princess’ persona. Doha was dressed a vampire so you posed together for the fan cameras.

“Bite him!”

“Bite him, Doha-Ssi!”

Doha glanced over at you. You could instantly tell the mischievous aura that was beaming from him as his lips slowly pulled into a smirk. Before you could even attempt to run away his hand grabbed your arm as he pulled you close.

Miras screamed as he playfully bit your neck. You squirmed as you could only laugh, reaching to push him away but he easily grabbed both of your wrists. He held them tight as he held his pose so the fan girls could take as many pictures as possible.

Finally he pulled away. You glared at him and quickly got your revenge by ‘accidentally’ hitting your knee against his crotch. Doha went down with a whimper.

Yohan quickly walked over, but not to help as he kneeled and took a quick selfie. “I hope they make memes of this!” He laughed, moving to sit on top of Doha’s back as the younger muttered out a short prayer for his crotch.

You glanced over to see what the other members were doing. Mingi was being told to do multiple poses while Kihyun and Hyojin were trying on different hand bands Miras had brought on. That gave you the idea to find one for yourself.

Hopefully it wouldn’t miss with your wig. Wouldn’t want to go bald on stage.

You were sitting on top of the table on the stage, grabbing one of the gifts that Miras brought in. As you debated between the cat ears or frog hat, a hand suddenly gripped your thigh.

Your body jumped as you glanced up to see who was touching you to see it was only Mingi. He was dressed in an ancient Korean costume, complimented with a Korean hat. It was no wonder the fans kept telling him to be an actor.

He looked straight out of a historical kdrama.

“Something wrong?” You finally asked, calming down when you realized it was just him. Weirdly enough he was covering you from the fans. Hm.

Mingi stared down at you, his face blank. His dyed blonde hair was pulled into a little bun to fit into the hat. Light makeup applied to his fox like features, red lipstick on his lips. You didn’t mean to but you stared at his lips for a moment before quickly looking back up.

His eyes narrowed in on your neck. You reached up to touch your neck and felt the teeth marks Doha left. Damn, you didn’t realize he had bitten that hard. Just as you glanced up at Mingi he was looking at your face.

“Your dress is short.” Mingi said, a grin pulling on his lips. But it didn’t reach his eyes. “You almost flashed everyone else.”

You gasped, glancing back at the fans. “Really?! Did they see anything?”

“No, I came just in time. They just…” Mingi glanced down at your thighs. The dress had ridden up to show off the bare skin of your thighs that weren’t covered by your socks. It was really close to showing the boxers you were wearing.

Mingi shook his head. “They didn’t see anything. Be careful next time, Hyung. Wouldn’t want anyone to… see you like this.”

“Thanks.” You simply said, giving him a little smile. Your lips pursed as you glanced back at the cat ears and frog hat. “Minnie, which one should I wear? Cat ears or frog hat?” You held up the two items.

He took the two from your hand before placing the cat ears back on the table. You made the attempt to reach for the frog hat, believing that’s what he chose for you until he stopped you.

You watched as he untied the hat he was wearing, taking it off before resting it on your head. He placed the frog hat on his head and then tied the Korean hat properly on you, making sure it was stable before pulling away.

“I wanted the frog hat. I think it’ll look better on me.” Mingi smirked. He fixed your dress, pulling it down to give you some modesty before stepping away to stop covering you.

“Ah…” You could only stare at him. That felt weird but you didn’t know why. He just wanted to switch hats. That’s all. You were making it weird.

He’s someone you have to take care of! You pinched yourself to push any weird thoughts in your head as you slipped off the table.

The rest of the fan meet was smooth sailing. Mingi didn’t bother you. Doha was mewing for the camera while Yohan would randomly start breakdancing for no reason. Kihyun and Hyojin were once again in their own little world.

Though they were nice enough to let you sit on the sideline. You sometimes wondered if they had something on side. In a hour or so the fan meet was done.

You all practically rushed to get home. While you loved interacting with fans, you always felt insanely tired after. There was always a certain persona you had to have—especially the one that the company had given you.

As you sat in the company van, you glanced over at Yohan. He was snickering at something on his phone. You leaned closer to see what it was.

It was a video of you hitting Doha in the balls. From the angle, it was so obvious it wasn’t an accident. As Yohan swiped down to the comments, so many fans were laughing. Lots of them saying Doha had to say goodbye to having children.

“It’s funny, right?” Yohan suddenly asked, looking up at you.

You flinched before nodding, not seeing the purpose of lying now. “Yeah, I guess. Is that all they do?”

“They do fan edits and even fan art. I found an edit of my breakdancing already.” Yohan showed the video. The edit made his dancing look cooler than it actually was. You rolled your eyes, of course Yohan would like it.

“You should really just take a look,” Yohan looked back down at his phone. “It’s cool seeing how they talk about us.”

The driver started the car as you glanced out the window. Maybe Yohan wasn’t wrong. It wouldn’t hurt to take a little peek at what Miras are doing.

Besides… you wanted to see if maybe Miras saw you outside of being ‘Miracle’s Dad.’

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After taking a nice shower, you got dressed in some loose pajamas. Since Miracle was a four year group, the company finally allowed you all to not room in one apartment as six men.

Though they could only afford a three apartments, meaning you would still have to room with someone. The apartments were all on the same floor and right near each other. Meaning there were days your band mates would still bother you like a little kid.

Yohan and Doha were roommates.

Kihyun and Hyojin, unsurprising to everyone.

That left you and Mingi. You thought he would’ve been upset about that but he was calm. If you were delusional enough, you would’ve thought he was even happy.

But you aren’t delusional.

You could hear Mingi gaming in the living room. You almost attempted to go out and ask him to keep the volume down but just as you opened the door, the volume was already low. Hm, he was a smart guy.

With that settled, you turned on your colorful fairy lights and plopped down onto your bed. You responded to any text messages that came up when you got bored.

Your finger pressed on Twitter. You were logged onto the group’s official account. As you scrolled past what the company posted—you suddenly got the urge to see what the fans were doing.

Just for a second. Just for a little bit.

You got to work and logged out of the account, making a side account. To better infiltrate Miras, you made a small little fan account.

Perhaps you are a little bit conceited but you decided to use your own picture as the profile picture. You used one from the fan meet today. That blonde wig was really pretty on you, why shouldn’t you enjoy it a bit more?

After creating the account, you began scrolling through the more major fan accounts. There were of course a lot for Kihyun and Mingi. That much you expected it.

There were many viral tweets of Mingi in his costume. So many Miras squealing that he would make a perfect actor. One post had over 100k likes.

As you scrolled through the many posts of Miras saying they wanted to “bounce on that dick” you came across a profile that an ‘18+’ in their handle.

What could they be posting to have such an handle?

Curiosity got the best of you. You pressed in their account to check it out. The account had Yohan as their profile, an older one of him, possibly at your debut. It was named @hanniesmira

The first few posts were just of Yohan taken at the fan meet. Her captions were pretty sweet, you wondered how bad things could get. Until you came across a tweet she had of Yohan and Doha.

It was when Yohan had just finished his ridiculous breakdancing. You remembered Miras yelling for Doha to bite him since he was in arms length of him.

The caption read:

→ you cant tell me DH hasn’t fucked Yhn in this type of position before!!!

‘DH?’ ‘Yhn?’ Why did she censor their name like that? You didn’t question it and decided to see how she could possibly get this perverted idea of Yohan and Doha. The video started with Yohan standing up after his breakdancing, breathing heavily as he wiped at his face.

The Miras in the video began to tell Doha to quickly bite Yohan while he’s distracted. Doha gave them a thumb ups before inching close to an oblivious Yohan. Yohan seemed to notice something was wrong judging by the giggles from Miras.

He made an attempt to run when Doha delivered his attack. Two of Doha’s fingers easily hooked itself in Yohan’s belt hoops of his pants and pulled him back with ease. His free hand reached up and gripped Yohan’s chin as he harshly tilted his head to the right.

Doha delivered the quick bite into Yohan’s neck. Yohan winced as his free hand reached up and gripped Doha’s hair as he could only take Doha’s attack. The video ended just as Doha pulled away and Yohan turned to face him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Oh.

Okay you could see it. That was a bit…

You must’ve been daydreaming to not have noticed that oddly sexually charged interaction. So maybe this girl wasn’t crazy. Now intrigued, you decided to continue on.

There were other videos of the fan meet. Though she wasn’t just a Yohan and Doha solo fan. She retweeted a few posts of Kihyun and Hyojin.

Kihyun was leaning over to wipe something off Hyojin’s lips. You didn’t see how any of that was romantic but thought back to the fact you practically did that for every member multiple times.

You really did act like a dad…

Time passed as you started to sink deeper into the ‘NSFW’ side of Miras. You learned Miras ‘censored’ names to hide posts from the searches. Kihyun and Hyojin were a major couple, many fan fictions made about them. Almost every Mira agreed that they were secretly dating.

Yohan and Doha was a different story. It seemed most people fought over who would top.

Then there was other ships. Hyojin and Doha. Yohan and Kihyun. Kihyun and Doha. Hyojin and Yohan. Even with Mingi. Mingi was mostly shipped with Hyojin. You wondered why you weren’t showing up at much, feeling oddly left out.

Weird, you were wondering why no one was over analyzing your sex life!

Just as you were about to call it a night, you came across a post finally discussing you. Hanniesmira was quote tweeting someone else’s tweet.

→ Is this really yalls alpha daddy? Not with those omega eyes!!

Omega eyes?! You took a look at just what she was quoting. It was of your fan page. A gif of today’s fan meet. You were in the Cinderella costume, fixing your wig before looking up, grinning at the crowd. Whatever omega eyes meant, you kinda understood what she meant.

You certainly didn’t look anything like how you usually presented yourself.

As you looked at the comments, an account caught your eye. @itsokokok. The account had you as the profile picture. It was of you on stage for the sensual b-side you guys promoted. Much to your surprise, the account had over 78k followers.

It was getting late but you wanted to see what an account about you said. Were you the top? You hoped so.

It seemed the owner of this account was a guy! Shocking, it was the first male fan you came across.

The account was of you… and pretty much only you. He retweeted a lot of pictures of you in the Cinderella costume. Others of your performance in the infamous choker. Multiple gifs of you pulling at the choker as you stared at the camera. You never realized how dark the eye makeup was.

Clothes and makeup could really change how you looked. It was like night and day compared to the Cinderella costume.

@bluemuuun

↳ tip sticky…

@slipslickk

↳ oh but if I say Hong (Name) is a slut asking to be fucked I’m the bad guy?

@hanniesmira

↳ someone creampie this man!!!

@hyunkikii

↳ need him… need him bouncing on it…

@hyoojinie

↳ 143 entertainment knew to keep this (Name) away from me cuz imma about to defy the laws of biology and get this man pregnant

@dohasflatass

↳ yall should see how Min looked at him during the performance ㅋㅋㅋㅋ he was about to combust

You clicked on the account @dohasflatass was linking to. It was a Mingi fan account, judging by the account having him as their profile picture. The caption wasn’t something you expected, not in your wildest dreams.

→ min wants to fuck him so bad

The video had you delivering your killer move, tugging at your choker as you stared at the camera, biting your lip. It suddenly switched to Mingi. He was delivering his dance moves but his eyes laser focused on you. You hadn’t noticed because you were in the center.

Even though you didn’t think he wanted to fuck you, he was certainly staring at you like you were a three course meal.

The account, @mingihongi had other videos of Mingi supposedly staring at you when you never noticed. One that caught your attention was from today’s fan meet. It was when Doha had restrained you.

The camera zoomed into Mingi, who was standing not too far from you. He was staring straight at you and Doha. There was no subtlety to the anger on his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he gripped at the toy prop he was holding.

Another video was of when you were on the table. Your dress was riding up, your legs swinging absentmindedly as you tried to figure out what to wear. Just as the dress was about to uncover your boxers—Mingi was suddenly in front of you. The video quickly ended after that.

@hyoojinie

↳ someone jelly… forget shipping (Name) with anyone else ㅋㅋㅋㅋ min would murder them

@hanniesmira

↳ (name) shaves?! I need min to bite his thighs!!!

@hyunkikii

↳ alpha daddy my ass… that man is Miracle’s mommy and min’s slut

@hyoojinie

↳ real. (Name) is honestly more like a mom—good thing I love MILFS!!! ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@dohasflatass

↳ if only people didn’t just see him as the ‘dad’.. they’re missing out on seeing min fight every fiber in on his body to not fuck his leader on stage

@slipslickk

↳ remember the live stream?? Min wanted that cookie so fucking bad ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@dohasflatass

↳ which one ㅎㅎㅎ min always stares at (name) like he needs to fuck him or he’ll die

“Hyung.”

You squealed, tossing your phone across the bed as the door opened. Mingi walked in as he rubbed at his face. His eyes were struggling to say open as he moved over to your bed.

“Something wrong?” You asked, trying to forget what you just read. Miras were fucking freaky.

“Hm.” Mingi shrugged as he reached over and pushed you to lay back down. You didn’t fight him as you raised an eyebrow at his behavior. He turned off your nightstand as he crawled over you before plopping down on the bed beside you.

He yawned as he wrapped his arms around your waist and easily pulled you against his body. You flinched but did nothing to stop him. This was normal, he used to do this back during your pre-debut days. One time he got a nightmare and cuddled with you that night… after that you never refused him whenever he asked again.

Even if you knew he couldn’t be possibly having nightmares every night. He stopped saying he had a nightmare and just got comfortable in bed with you.

It had been awhile since he had done that after moving into this apartment. You assumed he had outgrown it being that he was twenty-one now and you twenty-five. But as he got comfortable, you couldn’t stop yourself from gently playing with a strand of his hair.

“Night, Minnie.” You whispered. He hummed before cuddling you closer.

Everything would be okay. Whatever Miras were talking about was rubbish. You were Miracle’s Dad and would continue taking care of them, especially the maknae.

He didn’t want you that way…

Right?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After your descent into madness only being two weeks ago, you unfortunately began to view Yohan and Doha a bit differently. You already thought Kihyun and Hyojin had a special bond but never with Yohan and Doha.

“We should do an Instagram live today.” You said, staring over at Yohan.

The two of you were in the dance practice room. Yohan had wanted to show you a few moves which led to you two being in there for over two hours. The man was a dance machine and you were too nice to tell him that you wanted to go home.

It was around 10:00 pm but it was a Friday night.

You grabbed your phone and opened the groups Instagram, @Yourmiracle, not waiting for Yohan to respond. Yohan plopped down beside you on the small couch that was in the room. He wrapped his arm underneath your waist and rest his head on your chest.

Yohan was naturally cuddly so you didn’t say anything, pressing the live button. It didn’t take long for Miras to immediately start rushing in.

“Hi hi~! Miras, I have a special gift for you today: Sweaty Yohan!” You grinned, panning your phone down to get Yohan in frame.

He rolled his eyes and used his free hand to push it away. You laughed and steady your hand, making sure only the top of his hair was in frame. Your hand absentmindedly began to play with his hair as you read the comments flooding in.

“Yohan’s hair looks fried?” You read, snickering when Yohan let out a disgruntled grunt. “Miras are saying you should do black hair for the next comeback.”

“If I do black I can’t die my hair ever again,” Yohan whined, burying his face into your neck.

You flinched at his sweat now touching your neck,“You’re sweaty!! Get off, Hannie.” Though you made no real attempt to push Yohan away.

→ Their boyfriends are gonna be so mad ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

One of the comments caught your eye. Boyfriends? Who could they be talking about? You began paying more attention as a few other comments either told the person to shut up or began joking around with them as well.

They did mean Doha? Maybe they just meant Yohan’s boyfriend would be mad.

Yohan suddenly yawned as he moved to sit up, his face fully showing now. He rubbed at his eyes before pressing his nose against your cheek.

“End the live I wanna go home now.”

“Haha, now you wanna go home?” You teased, “you had me here for almost two hours, just to show me some dance moves! You can sit still for thirty minutes.”

A displeased grunt left Yohan as he pulled away a bit, a pout on his lips. He was obviously trying to do puppy dog eyes at you. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, turning your attention back to comments.

“Hyungie…” Yohan whined again as he reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His face was inches from yours—his nose brushed against yours, causing you to flinch. “Please..? For your favorite member?”

All you could really think about was the fact he wasn’t your favorite member. Not the fact that this could be viewed as oddly romantic.

“Who said you were my favorite?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “My favorite is Hyo—!”

Yohan squished your face as he glared at you. Your lips were now puckered out, eyes wide as you stared at Yohan in shock. The phone was almost slipping out of your hand, forgetting all about keeping it steady.

“Really? I’m not your favorite?” Yohan whispered, his eyes gazing into yours. You blinked, wondering what on Earth was happening. Why was he so close?

Your body tensed as your spare hand reached up to grip at Yohan’s shirt as you felt your face heat up. “Han—”

“—what are you doing to my favorite hyung?”

The door to the room was pushed open, walking in was Doha and Mingi. Doha chuckled as he plopped down on the couch right beside Yohan. He wrapped his arm around Yohan’s neck and pulled him away from you.

Yohan released your face as you quickly pulled away, rubbing at your sore cheeks. Mingi didn’t say anything as he stood in front of you. He kneeled down, sliding his arms around your waist and underneath your legs, much to your shock.

A complaint was on the tip of your tongue as he easily manhandled you to move away from Yohan. Mingi sat down in the now free space, grabbing your phone that was still on live.

You could only watch as Doha and Mingi took over the live with a disgruntled Yohan in between them. There was something off about what just happened but you couldn’t explain why.

As your dongsaengs continued on, you couldn’t help but feel a bit… left out? Weird. You shook your head and sighed. Now you wanted to go home. Things were getting weird.

You turned over to face the three of them, scooting in close to Mingi. Doha was talking about what he did today while Mingi occasionally chimed in. Yohan was practically dozing off by now, his head resting on Doha’s shoulder.

Usually, you could just command the members and they’d do whatever you ask. Other times you would act ‘cute’ to get them disgusted enough to do whatever you want. Since you didn’t exactly feel like putting on the usual leader persona, you mustered up a disgustingly cute ‘aegyo.’

“Minnie~” you whispered, moving to rest your head on Mingi’s shoulder. His body flinched immediately with your touch. There was a slight sting in your heart at his reaction but you pushed through, using your hand to grip at his shirt as you gazed up at him.

You batted your eyelashes, pouting your lips. “I wanna go home… but not without you~” you let out a particularly high pitched whine before a little giggle spilled out. You’d rarely do aegyo as the leader that it was hilarious to yourself whenever you did, especially with the reaction your members usually gave you.

“Holy shit.” Doha suddenly said, catching your attention.

“Doha!” You said, your act long gone. “No cussing on live!” Just as you were about to reprimand him even more, Mingi ended the live swiftly. He slipped your phone in his pocket and sat up so fast you got whiplash for him. “Minnie—?”

Mingi grabbed your hand and pulled you up without any effort. You could only watch in shock as he tugged you out of the dance practice room. Doha was heard laughing behind you.

“Wait for us, lovebirds!”

Lovebirds?

“Minnie, was it that bad?” You asked, not bothering to pull your hand away as Mingi guided you to the company’s van to take you home. “I won’t do it again if it bothered you—!”

You squealed as Mingi suddenly turned around, his hands now grasping your shoulders as he stared down at you. Wait, when did he get taller? Were you always shoulder height in comparison to him?

“Don’t.” Mingi said, his grip tightening. “Don’t stop. I liked it.”

Your eyes widen as you stared at him. Like? He liked it? Your cheeks flushed before you pushed away any weird thought in your head. “Haha, yeah, it’s funny seeing someone like me do aegyo, huh?”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed as he was about to speak until Doha walked outside with Yohan on his back. Yohan was knocked out cold as he snored. Doha walked over to you two and smirked, ignoring the glare Mingi sent his way.

“Too slow, Mingi. Better luck next time~!” Doha chuckled, going over to the van as the driver opened the door.

“Hm?” You asked, tilting your head. “Next time for what..?”

Mingi shook his head, releasing his grip on you. “Nothing. Let’s go. It’s late.” He pulled out your phone and handed it over to you. “You said you’ll only go home with me.”

You blushed. “Ah, yeah. Let’s go home.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It wasn’t even a full hour when the NSFW side already had photos and clips of the live. You were going to sleep as soon as you got home but was itching to see what was happening online.

Unsurprisingly it was mostly of Mingi. You understood why, he was handsome. Even barefaced he looked like a god in comparison to you. But even then you couldn’t help but feel bitter.

You decided to visit the accounts you got to know from before. They were mostly talking about the little Doha and Yohan moment. It was actually pretty sweet.

A few talked about Yohan’s weird attack on you but mostly on how dominate he was. Just gushing about how sexy he was, nothing about you.

You almost just went to bed when you came across a post of you and Mingi.

It was of your aegyo. Through the video you got to see Mingi’s face as you touched him. It was different than what you had originally thought. You had thought he was annoyed or even disgusted by your actions… but in the video that couldn’t be further from the truth.

His eyes practically laser focused on you as soon as you rested your head on his shoulder. Mingi’s free hand twitched, almost reaching over to touch you before quickly resting back down on his lap.

It’s after you say you wanted to go home with Mingi that his jaw tightens and the live ends immediately.

That doesn’t make sense, why did you affect him that much?

You scrolled through the comments before seeing one that made you pause.

→ he’s so fucking cringy… why does he keep bothering Minnie like that? He’s not even cute like Hyojin

Huh. Your first ever hate comment… that you’ve seen. You couldn’t help but want to defend yourself but you didn’t need to. A few Miras had already taken to defending you against the other so called Mira. You sighed and turned off your phone, knowing that if you stayed any longer you’d go too deep into the rabbit hole of hate spewed against you.

You tried to ignore the words you read, knowing that the thoughts of someone you don’t know doesn’t matter. But it’s easier said than done. Just as you begin wallowing in self pity, your bedroom door opens.

Mingi slips into your room, making no attempt to explain himself as he gets on your bed. He almost goes straight to bed before seeing your face. His sleepy demeanor is gone as he sits up, reaching over to turn on the lamp on your nightstand.

Your eyes squint as you cover the bright light with your hand, “Minnie, warning next time.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm..? What do you mean?”

Mingi frowned. “Your face. You look upset. What happened?”

“It’s nothing. I just… I just y’know, poked into fan territory.” You said, deciding to just leave it at that.

“Why do you care about what they think?”

“They’re our fans, they support us.”

Mingi rolled his eyes, “so? Just because they give us their money, they get to talk shit about us? What did you read?”

Your lips pursed as you looked away, not wanting to continue the conversation. But you had no choice as Mingi reached over and grabbed your face, turning your head to face him again. What’s with it and people grabbing your face?!

“Tell me, Hong (Name).”

If you weren’t shocked you would’ve reprimanded him for saying your name without any honorifics.

“Someone… said that I’m cringy. It’s silly, I know. But I’ve… I’ve noticed that not many Miras like me, haha.” You bit your lip, feeling tears well in your eyes. “It’s nothing serious but I wish.. I wish they liked me like they like you.”

The embarrassment began to rise in your chest as you wanted to hide underneath the covers.

“Stop caring about what they think.” Mingi said, his thumb wiping at the tear that managed to escape down your cheek. “Only care about what I… our group thinks about you.” He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours as you sniffled.

“Okay. Okay.” You whispered, letting out a laugh. “It’s so bad, I’m crying to the maknae about something so trivial.”

Mingi didn’t share that sentiment. His gaze harden as his brows furrowed, “you always do this.” He suddenly said.

“What—?”

“—you just view me as the maknae. I’m not seventeen anymore. I’m not a kid.”

“I.. I know but I’m just used to taking care of you..”

“Well stop.” He said it with such finality that it caused you to panic. What did he mean stop? Did he.. did he not need you anymore?!

“Stop..? But.. but…”

“Let me take care of you.” Mingi whispered, causing your breath to hitch. You didn’t get to question him as his lips pressed against yours. Your eyes widen as you reached up and gripped at his shirt, unable to put in the effort to push him away.

Why were you keeping him so close?

Mingi’s soft kiss felt as if he was fearful to really touch you. But as he noticed you weren’t putting up a fight, he immediately deepened the kiss. His lips claimed yours as he hungrily kissed you, one of his hands sliding down to reach underneath you and grip your ass.

You gasped into the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip in with ease. Your hands pathetically gripped at his shirt as you could only go through with the motions. Mingi seemed so experienced, did he kiss people before?

But you wouldn’t know…

Mingi was your first kiss.

Hong (Name), twenty-five years old who hasn’t so much as held hands romantically with someone.

You’d never imagine your maknae would be your first kiss. Especially for him to take the lead like this.

When his hand suddenly moved to your pajama pants, you quickly regain control over yourself. You pulled away from the kiss and gripped Mingi’s hand. The kiss practically took your breath away as you stared up at him.

Mingi didn’t look embarrassed at all, he looked relieved. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

You blushed. “H..Huh? Mingi, what are you saying?”

“I like you. I’ve liked you for years. But you always kept me at a distance.” He said, leaning in close to press a chaste kiss on your lips. You wished you could say you hated it. As he pulled away, he looked you in the eye before smiling. “It’s ok. I don’t expect a response right now.”

“Response..?”

Mingi only hummed. “But now I’ll do what I’ve always wanted to do.” He pulled away from you.

You watched as he got up from the bed. “Where are you going?”

“To take care of something. Go to sleep, Hyung.” Mingi said, giving you slight grin as he left your room.

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was referring to. Your cheeks felt hot as you glanced down at your own crotch, checking to see if it was hard. Luckily you didn’t get hard from a simple kiss.

But Mingi did…

Was he.. was he that excited about finally confessing?

You cursed to yourself, lying down on your bed. You were going to need a few days.. weeks even to make sense of this.

The boy you took care for four years straight just told you that he never thought of you as an older brother figure. He wanted you romantically.

That means… this entire time, you’ve been reading the relationship wrong!

Fuck, what if you had the wrong idea about how your other relationships with the group was like?

You weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight!!

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t been able to sleep in general. It had only been two weeks since Mingi’s confession and he hasn’t acted out of character since. Sure he was a bit more touchy but he acted relatively normal. You wondered if you dreamt that night.

The other members could immediately tell something happened but you weren’t privy to their conversation.

Seemed like they had a group chat without you.

You certainly weren’t feeling left out, no way.

The group was holding a small little fan meeting outside the company. It was something the company did occasionally to allow people that couldn’t pay for real fan meetings to see you guys.

Perhaps one of the few good things your company did.

Since it wasn’t a real fan meeting you all just dressed in your regular outfits and really had no set plan on what to do.

While you liked it the whole outside fan meets, you soon started dreading them. You were always left on the side lines. Although Kihyun and Mingi were the most popular—Doha, Yohan, and Hyojin still had people calling their name.

You hardly had people call your name. But it was okay. You were the leader, you were strong. Though it honestly felt like Miras didn’t see you as a member but as a manager.

How they got to this conclusion was beyond your comprehension but the company actually tried to fix this. However that hardly helped. Yohan had believed it was because of the stupid persona they assigned to you didn’t fit your personality at all.

And while you agreed, the company wasn’t going to change your branding. So long as Miras didn’t hate you—you’d just have to deal with being ignored.

So, here you were, outside in the large courtyard the company had blocked off for the fan meet. There was a slight barrier between you and Miras as extra security since the fandom had grown heavily compared to last time.

There were way more Miras than last time. Especially more male Miras. The fanbase was majority girls, so it was shocking to see guys.

You stood in the center right between Kihyun and Hyojin. Miras were asking short questions for each member but you were getting skipped repeatedly. Hyojin seemed to notice based on the glance he gave you when they skipped you to ask him another question.

“(Name) Hyung,” Hyojin said, holding the mic up to his face as he gave you slight grin. His black hair was brushed back into a cute little ponytail. “Do you know any girl group dances?”

He gave the question directed to him to you. You couldn’t help but grin. He was your favorite for a reason, though you really loved each member equally.

You pursed your lips as you exaggerated your body language, “hmmmm, maybe~? Do you wanna see Hyung dance?”

“Waaah!” Yohan suddenly yelled into his mic, “dance, dance!! I wanna see!”

Kihyun hummed in agreement. “Dance for us, Hyung.”

They all suddenly gave you some space, making you realize they were serious. You glanced over at Mingi who was watching you like a hawk. His gaze was so intense that you quickly looked away.

You pulled off your trench coat, earning a teasing whistle from Doha. Kihyun took your coat for you as you walked over to the manager who was controlling the speaker. As you whispered the song to him, you walked back to the center and tried to fight back any embarrassment.

You danced in a choker for god sakes, you can do do a short little dance for a crowd of 100 people.

As the song started, Miras went silent in shock.

Miniskirt by AOA.

You immediately began the dance to the chorus, trying your best to fight the urge to laugh. The song cut off after you finished the chorus. It was embarrassing to say the least as you grabbed your mic from off the ground.

Before you could even say anything, Miras immediately began screaming. You shook your head as Kihyun handed over your coat.

“Sexy, Hyung~” Yohan teased, walking over to you as he wrapped his arm around your neck. “When did you learn that dance?”

“You’re not the only one who learns dances in his spare time.” You answered, grinning when Yohan pouted in response.

“Hyung is getting too sexy,” Kihyun suddenly said, “we’ll have to leash him soon.”

Mingi hummed in response, his gaze right on you, “I’ll have to tame him.”

Tame? You blushed at Mingi’s words. Why did he only say I?! If any of the other members noticed, they didn’t say anything. Doha immediately took over with the next question.

The rest of the hour was spent with other silly stuff. You would get a bit more questions this time around which was nice. Yohan and Mingi were now on either side of you.

Yohan still had his arm around your neck, occasionally giving his own questions over to you.

Mingi would just ignore the question to ask you something instead.

It was rounding near the end of the meet, the temperature beginning to drop. You subconsciously pressed closer to Yohan for some warmth. Yohan was only two inches taller than you.

Almost everyone had grown taller than you despite you not noticing.

“Miras, thank you for coming to see us. We have a special announcement coming next week, I hope you’re ready!” You said, grinning.

Miras began yelling out “I love you” to their own bias. This was always your least favorite part, you usually never got anything. It was always so awkward when it was your turn and they ended just giving you a pity “I love you.”

But this time, when it was your turn, it was hardly silent.

A male voice yelled, “사랑해요, (Name)-Ssi♡♡♡!!!”

You stared into the crowd in shock as you tried to see which guy it was before another guy yelled out “I love you” to you. A few more guys yelled it right after them as you felt your lip quiver.

Your eyes welled with tears as you tried your best to deliver a quick “thank you,” only to end up whimpering into the mic instead. You were already crying as Yohan patted your back, tugging you closer.

“Aigoo, you’re so emotional, Hyung.” Yohan joked, though his hand was comforting on your back. You sniffled in his shoulder before wiping at your face. The idea that you’d cry over something so small felt like a sick joke, but here you are.

When you finally parted from Yohan to say goodbye, a hand slipped into yours. You looked over to see Mingi staring straight ahead. His hand tightened around yours.

You almost felt like crying again, which you did. Yohan took over to say the final goodbyes once he realized you couldn’t say anything now.

Mingi kept his grip on your hand tight as you all walked back into the company building. He didn’t let go even when you attempted to pull away.

“Are you okay, Hyung?” Hyojin asked, handing you a tissue. You graciously accepted it and wiped at your face. You did not want to know how pathetic you looked right now.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen guys at our fan meet,” Doha laughed, shaking his head. “Looks like they only came for you.”

You blew your nose before looking over at Doha, “what do you mean?”

“They didn’t say anything for us.” Kihyun said. “They only cared about you.”

They only came for you…? That didn’t—

“(Name), Gaeul and I need to talk with you for a minute.”

You looked back to see your manager walking over to you. His name was Dawon. He was only one year older than you, your only hyung. Miracle had two managers, Dawon and Gaeul. The company thought having Dawon was good, since he was close in age.

Gaeul was near the door, nodding her head as she motioned for you to come over. She was older but only in her mid thirties.

Mingi’s hand suddenly tightened its grip when you made the attempt to pull away. You glanced back over at him, tilting your head. Mingi was staring straight at Dawon, a strange scowl on his face.

What could he be angry about?

Dawon only rolled his eyes. “It’s just a business talk. C’mon, (Name).” He didn’t wait to see if you were coming as he walked over to Gaeul.

“Minnie, let go.” You said, reaching down to gently pry Mingi’s hand away. He subconsciously tightened his grip before pulling away as if he was burned.

Before you could even question why he was acting so strangely, Doha wrapped his arm on Mingi’s shoulder. “We’ll wait for you in the van.”

The others waved as they walked away. It took a minute before Doha could properly pull Mingi away. You only watched, wondering what was happening to your maknae. So weird.

You shook your head and walked over to Dawon and Gaeul. They stopped whatever conversation they had to look over at you. Dawon was good at hiding his emotions so you knew not to look at him for any answers.

Gaeul however was practically bouncing on the ball of her heels. “(Name)! I have good news for you.” She said, a grin spread on her lips.

“What is it?”

“So,” she started, clearing her throat. “You know how I’ve been trying to get the company to stop with the ridiculous boyfriend marketing… and while I haven’t gotten anywhere—they are changing the marketing for you specifically!”

You glanced over at Dawon who only nodded. “Change my marketing? Why are they changing their mind?”

“Because of this!” Gaeul pulled out her phone and showed a picture. It took a minute before you could properly understand what the picture meant.

It was of a list, a ranking of male idols favorited by gay/bisexual men. And you were in top twenty?!

“None of the members ever made it to the top fifty but you shot up to top twenty in only three weeks!” She squealed. “Ever since the whole choker performance, your fancam went viral outside of Miras space and hit it within the gay men community.”

Dawon hummed. “They found you sexy mostly.” He pulled out his own phone to show you something. “The sales of your solo photo book sold out quickly, even though you were usually the one to have more than half left.”

You tried not to be upset at Dawon’s slight dig. It wasn’t like he was wrong.

“But!” Gaeul cut in, the excitement not leaving her face. “They don’t only find you sexy, they find you cute!”

“Was it because of the Cinderella costume?” You asked, frowning slightly.

“No. Well they did like that but someone started posting old videos of you before the company started making you tone down your personality—they love your real personality the most! Almost everyone can tell you’re not stoic at all.” Gaeul hummed.

“Okay…” you muttered, slightly happy at it seemed people could appreciate the real you.. but still, it wasn’t like it was Miras. “Well how are they changing my marketing?”

Dawon patted your back. “They’re making you do a special stage in a month for the comeback.”

“Like a solo song..?”

“Yup! It’s technically a test to how well solo songs in albums will do but also to see just how much these fanboys will do cheer you on.” Gaeul grinned. “Aren’t you excited?! You no longer have to put on a fake act anymore for the cameras.”

“Though it’s not like you were exactly good at it,” Dawon laughed, poking your cheek. “You could only keep the persona for a second before cracking. You’re too sweet.”

You blushed, pushing his hand away. “How will the boys feel about this..? I don’t want to do anything to strain our relationship, it only feels like recently that they’ve…”

“I’ll talk to them.” Dawon said. “I was the one to tell them about you first anyway, I can do it again.”

Gaeul nodded. “I think they’ll be happy for you. Besides you’ve guys done solid stages before when preforming other people’s songs, this time you’re preforming an original song. You’ll finally get solo activities!”

Your ears peaked up at that. Solo activities? Almost everyone else had attended an event or interview by themselves at least once. You had none…

Maybe this was your big break..? Not to leave the group, but to finally not feel like a filler member?

“Anyway,” Gaeul said, breaking your thoughts. “You’ll learn more when we get close to the mini album promotion. All I know is that you’ll preform the solo song before the album comes out to draw out hype.”

That made your heart drop to your ass. You..? You alone?! No one way the company was going to use you to draw out hype. It felt whiplash—the filler member to being used for promotion.

You needed to rest and cry and laugh in excitement and fear.

After promising to not tell the other members until Dawon did, you walked to the van outside. The members didn’t seem to care about what happened or at the very least knew you probably wouldn’t tell them.

You moved to sit down beside Hyojin, putting on your seatbelt. However, just as the driver was about to drive, Mingi suddenly made Hyojin switch seats so now he sat in the middle, you right beside him.

Mingi didn’t say anything as he just pulled out his phone and typed away. You could only stare at him before shaking your head, unable to stop the slight smile on your lips.

He was so clingy.

The drive was quick as you all made it back to the apartment complex. Everyone immediately went to their room, ready to drop dead and sleep.

Mingi seemed to want to take care of you tonight as he decided to cook instead of ordering takeout.

As you watched him cook, being forced to sit down in the dining room when you tried to help, you couldn’t help but wonder why Mingi liked you. You didn’t believe you treated him any different from the others.

Each member had a cute nickname that you gave them.

Hannie for Yohan.

Hyunnie for Kihyun.

Dodo for Doha, (he hated it).

Jinnie for Hyojin.

Minnie for Mingi.

You would take each of them out for solo dinner dates once a month, speaking of which you need to plan them before September ends. Each of them got a thoughtful gift for their birthdays. You gave each of them affection, if they wanted, Doha wasn’t exactly into skinship.

What was it that made Mingi fall for you?

Was it your looks? But you were never complimented on your looks. Past companies even refused you because you didn’t have the ‘idol looks’ despite being a great singer and dancer.

Maybe he just wrongly assumed that he had romantic feelings for you… Yeah, that makes more sense.

No way someone like Mingi could ever—

“—stop thinking.”

Your back straightened up as you felt Mingi’s breath tease the tip of your ear. You stayed still, waiting to see what he was planning to do. How did he even know you were thinking?

“I can’t leave you alone with your thoughts for too long,” Mingi muttered, sighing softly. “You always manage to destroy any self worth I try to build within you.”

“How’d you…?” You whispered.

“There’s a certain face you make.” He said. “It’s obvious now—to me at least. I don’t know about the others. I usually pay attention to you alone.”

“Only me?”

Mingi pulled away from you, walking back to the kitchen. You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. He really was a light walker. Mingi came back after a minute or so with a bowl of noodles. It wasn’t anything extravagant—you guys needed to go grocery shopping.

“Eat, Hyung.” Mingi said, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “I’ll be sad if you don’t eat everything.” A smirk pulled on his lips as you grabbed the chopsticks.

Of course he’d guilt trip you. Hopefully the noodles are good.

Mingi sat down across from you, watching you eat.

“Where’s your bowl?”

“I’ll eat after you.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“So I can watch you. You’re cute when you eat.”

“Cute—?!”

“Mhm,” he hummed absentmindedly. “I don’t know why the company made me the ‘golden retriever boyfriend’ it suits you more.”

“The whole assigned personality traits we were given were so stupid.” You said honestly. You always made a point to never talk badly about the company in front of the others. But you thought back to what Mingi had said, he wasn’t a kid anymore.

Maybe you needed to change how you treat him. While he hasn’t directly complained, he must be upset about you treating him as if he was still the clueless naive seventeen year old.

But then you’d have to grapple with the thought that he’d never need you anymore…

That’s all you were good for, being needed? The company had said that you were the last member to be added. They just needed an extra vocalist and you were the only trainee that could carry a high note without straining. You were last place then just like now. Perhaps you’re just scared.

Scared that Mingi and everyone else will realize how much better they would be without you.

“I thought I told you to stop thinking.”

You blinked as you glanced up, seeing an irritated Mingi. He sighed and rolled his eyes. The thought of upsetting him made you forget all about your own self pity. You placed your chopsticks down and stood up, walking over to his side of the table.

Mingi glanced up, raising an eyebrow. He pushed out of his chair but just as he was going to stand up you placed your hand on his shoulder. Despite the confusion on his face, he followed your silent order.

His body was now fully facing you as you knelt down, inches from his legs. Mingi flinched as his eyes widen. In the moment, you weren’t thinking about how he’d take this position.

All you could think about was when you knelt down to him before, back before you all debuted. It was possibly the only time you were ever truthful to him concerning your emotions.

Your hand reached out and grasped his leg, your eyes gazing up at him. “I’m sorry, Mingi. I… I don’t think I can tell you everything now but it’s not your concern that I am this way.”

“Hyung—”

“—let me finish.” You interrupted him. “I put myself on pause when we debuted because I knew I was only there to fill in an extra spot. But I thought that if I took great care of you guys, you all would like me, maybe even appreciate me.. but then I started to like taking care of you guys. I love you all so much but then learning Miras don’t even think about me hurts so much.

“I wish I didn’t care about what others think but watching you and everyone else get the love you deserve… I just want it too.” You finished, resting your head on the inner part of Mingi’s leg.

Mingi flinched but his hand soon brushed against your face. “What about my love?”

You glanced up at him. “Your love..? Mingi, I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t deserve it from you—not someone as special as you.”

“You’re putting me on a pedestal. It’s so fucking annoying.” Mingi sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Pedestal..?”

“Hyung, you’re special to me.” He reached down and grabbed your hand, staring right at you as you blush. “Being by your side of four years, I learned so much about you, that I—”

You quickly press your free hand against Mingi’s mouth, silencing him. He stared at you in disbelief before narrowing his eyes. That word. He was going to say it. It was different hearing it from fans—to hear it from Mingi felt like a joke.

“Don’t… not.. not yet.” You whispered, biting the bottom of your lip.

Mingi released his grip on your other hand as he reached up, grasping your wrist. He stared right at you just as you felt a tongue tease the palm of your hand. You gasp and try to pull away but his hand tightens around your wrist.

His gaze doesn’t soften as he presses soft wet kisses on your hand. You can only whimper and watch. He trails a kiss up to your wrist before reaching your arm.

You blush, feeling his lips now trail up your arm. He left light bites, occasionally suckling on the skin. Your lower body flinched as you tried to pull your arm away. But his grip doesn’t loosen. In fact, he tugs you even closer.

Your body slipped further between his legs as he reached the tip of your shoulder. He wasted no time before tugging you to stand up. His hands grip your waist before you could attempt to pull away.

His hands gently push your shirt up as he pressed a wet kiss on your stomach. “I can just show you how much I appreciate you.”

“Mingi…” You whimpered, your eyes widening.

“Mhm?” He chuckled. “C’mon, let me do this.”

Mingi returned to leaving soft kisses on your stomach, biting at your skin. One of his hands grasping your jeans as he unbuckled it. Your hands gripped at his shoulders as you simply watched him pull your pants down enough for your boxers to be free.

His hands eagerly grabbed a handful of your ass, kneading it. “It’s is fat…. Those pants they put you in flatten your ass, Hyung.”

“Mingi…! Don’t—!”

“—Don’t what?” His hands grasp your briefs as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room.

You shrieked, attempting to pull away but that didn’t work with Mingi’s arms around your hips. He hummed in satisfaction as he tore the rest of your briefs off. The torn briefs fell to your feet as you stood half nude in front of your maknae.

This had to be a joke!

“You’re smaller than I thought.” Mingi suddenly said.

“Smaller?!” You cried out, feeling a sharp hit at your self-confidence. While you knew you might’ve been on the smaller side—hearing someone else say it wasn’t exactly nice.

A kiss on your cock caused you to flinch, watching as Mingi kissed the entirety of your lower half. Right on your hips and close to your inner thighs.

“So pretty, Hyung.” He whispered against your skin. “Pretty just for me.” His hands grasped your hips as he licked the tip of your cock.

You whimpered, biting your lip as you gripped at his shirt. Your first ever blowjob by your maknae… holy shit.

The thought should’ve made you throw up but instead you were feeling anything but.

“Wait, wait..” You whined pathetically just as Mingi began to suck on your tip. Your body tensed as a strained moan left your tightly closed lips. Mingi pulled away, watching as your cock began to leak before pathetically cumming.

The cum dripped onto the floor as you took a deep breath, embarrassment rising in your chest. Holy shit, you came… you came before anything really happened!

You tried to rationalize it to yourself. You’ve never even held hands with a partner and while you masturbated, you had never been touched by someone else.

But Mingi wouldn’t have known that! And you weren’t exactly eager to tell your maknae that you were an inexperienced virgin… especially that he was your first kiss.

“Hyung…”

You glanced down at Mingi, ready for him to look at you weirdly when your breath hitched. He was staring at you like you were a full course meal. It reminded you of the video of you dancing on stage while he watched.

“Are you… inexperienced?” He asked, obviously trying to not embarrass you. His grip subconsciously tightened on your waist when you tried to move away.

“S..So what if I am..” you whispered.

Mingi smirked. “I thought you just knew how to hide your partners.. but you really were celibate.”

“S..So..? It’s not a big deal..” you wanted to put some clothes on now. “It’s nothing serious, I mean I gave you my first kiss.”

Time seemed to stop after your confession.

His grip felt harsh, nails digging into your skin.

“I’m… Hyung.. you don’t know what this information does to me.” He whispered, pressing his head against your stomach. Now that you couldn’t see his face, you wondered if he was upset.

It took a minute before he sighed, pulling away, staring right up at you.

“I’m going to fuck you, Hyung. But I need to get you ready for that.”

“Huh?!” You cried out, blushing heavily. “R..Ready?! Why?”

Mingi’s jaw tightened. “Because if I fucked you right now, especially with how inexperienced you are, I’ll scare you away… and I can’t fuck you tonight because I want you to choke on my dick.”

You sputtered, eyes widening. “Choi Mingi!”

“Hong (Name).” He smirked. “I’ll get you ready for me, Hyung… and once you’re ready..”

His teeth brushed against your skin as you flinched, unable to pull away due to his death grip.

“I’ll ruin you so that you won’t want to taste anyone else but me.”

Your sweet and innocent maknae was nothing like himself back when he was seventeen. Those stupid NSFW accounts were fucking right! He did want you.

You were screwed.

Literally, but you seemed to be making no effort to truly stop him.

Four years ago

Choi Mingi didn’t like you at first. How could he when Miracle was set to debut as five? He was already close to his other hyungs, why does he need another one? Especially one that was taking away half of his lines in the debut.

The other members, besides Hyojin, were also not too keen on your late addition to the group. Hyojin just didn’t care all that much in general.

Yohan was the most angry, he was the leader and now he was losing it to you! Someone he didn’t even know.

The first meet the group was going to have with you was with the choreographer. Luckily they hadn’t started teaching it but the choreographer had to change it to accommodate six people.

Mingi was particularly angry as they got to the practice room. He walked into the room only to notice the others seemed oddly quiet..? At seventeen he was still a bit short so he had to push through to the front to see what the commotion was.

And.. woah? From what he had heard from other trainees, you were supposedly ‘ugly’ in the company’s eyes, that’s why you hadn’t debuted.

But uh, he didn’t understand that at all seeing you front of him. You were cute, so fucking cute as you laughed at whatever the choreographer said to you.

Through the entire dance practice/meeting, he watched you like a hawk. Everyone except Hyojin didn’t say anything to you. Hyojin acted normal and treated you like a person, not some enemy.

But Mingi was stubborn—he wasn’t going to talk to you. He plopped down on the couch during the short break, pulling out his phone only for it to slip onto the ground. He groaned, sitting with his legs far apart as he tried to gain the willpower to get his phone.

However he didn’t need to when you kneeled down between his legs, grabbing the phone. You handed it over to him. Your eyes gazing up at him as you gave him a slight smile, obviously a bit nervous.

To think that the company said you didn’t have an ‘idol image!’ You were so handsome—no, cute. You were so cute that Mingi wondered if you’d end up getting the golden retriever persona he was given. It would suit you so much more than him.

Mingi reached over to take his phone from your hand. You leaned in closer, your free hand moving to rest on Mingi’s leg when you almost lost your balance. Mingi’s body tensed as he felt your warmth, of course he had to wear shorts.

“Sorry, Mingi-Ssi.” You said, your voice soft and sweet. Your singing voice was probably perfect. After handing over his phone, you stood up and walked over to Hyojin.

Mingi quickly closed his legs now that you were gone.

He had a fucking boner.

Yall don’t even gotta ask. Writing part 2 immediately, it’s a slow burn in that there’s not gonna no penetration sex just yet. Part 2 gonna have more cross dressing/NSFW tweets, this lowkey is a setup lmaoo

Tag list:

@secretivemessenger @euthymiko @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @cherry-blossoms-187 @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @remdayz @tomoeroi @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @kiiyoooo @mello-life25 @tehyunnie @yuzuukix @bensontrechic @glittervame @love-kha1

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

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no-144444 · 2 months ago

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3 minutes- l.norris

summary: lando overshoots an overtake, and you go off the track. what then ensues is the most stressful and awful 3 hours of his life.

pairing: lando norris x fem! rbdriver! reader

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He overshot it, and you were off the track.

“Fuck!” he screamed, looking in his mirrors. “Is she ok?”

“Red flag, red flag! No info yet Lando, keep going-”

“Is she getting out of the fucking car?!” he screamed. Everything was too much, too fast, too difficult. Every single person in the stands was silent, or maybe his brain was just filtering it out. He couldn’t hear anything, just his own voice, his own breath, and the beat of his own heart in his ears. He needed information, he needed to know that you were walking out of the car. He needed to know you weren’t dead. He needed to know if he still had a fiancé. It was bad. He knew it was bad. It was the third lap of the fucking Sprint.

“No info-”

“Don’t give me that shit! Is she getting out of the car?!”

“She is exiting the car, yes.”

And fuck, Lando could breathe again.

“Assisted,” Will added and his heart dropped. “They’re stopping the session, bring it back to the pits.”

Lando screamed. As he slowly drove towards the pits, he could feel the eyes on him. The drivers, the media, the fans. All of them wondered the same thing as him. Had he really fucked everything in his life up?

He parked in his own garage and ran out to the RedBull garage, needing more information than anyone was willing to give him.

“What is going on?” he demanded of your race engineer, Ryan.

Ryan sighed. “Have you seen the footage yet?”

“Don’t show it to him!” Christian demanded, crossing the garage to get to him. “You shouldn’t be here, get out of my garage.”

“She’s my fucking fiancé, if I want information, I’m getting it Christian.”

“You’re the one who fucking killed her!” he screamed.

The garage went quiet. Lando’s heart rate sped up, his eyes glossed over. He couldn’t have lost you. He didn’t lose you. He refused. He became so much more aware of everything around him, the dead silence in the garage, the way everyone else’s eyes were wide, or subdued. The way Max stilled. The way Christian just stared at him. The way everyone stopped breathing. He could feel every inch of his race suit on his skin, he could feel every curl on top of his head, every bead of sweat that fell from his skin. He took a deep breath.

“She’s gone?” he asked in a broken whisper, looking at Ryan. Ryan looked down.

“They got her back!” Henry, your lead mechanic screamed, informing the entire garage that you in fact, were alive. “She’s breathing, she’s awake!”

There was a collective sigh of relief. With the aid of Max, Christian backed off enough to allow Lando to see the footage and hear the whole story.

He watched in horror as the front left of his McLaren hit the back right of your RB and sent you flying. Somehow, you’d become airborne and flipped 8 times. 8 times. He counted it. The car hit into the barriers, and it split.

You didn’t move. The cameras turned away. The marshals ran. George ran on, his car had been hit with debris, the same for Franco, Liam, and Alex. They ran over, trying desperately to help you out. George and Liam carried you over to the ambulance. You were limp. Unresponsive.

“She died for 3 minutes,” Ryan explained, a sombre tone in his voice. “She’s on her way to the hospital now.”

He looked down, the tears flowing freely. You had died. For 3 whole minutes, you were gone.

“We think it was the impact of the spinning, and then hitting into the barriers. And… her Hans device was faulty. It wasn’t put on properly, and it came off during the first spin.”

“What about the halo?” he asked.

“It was crushed in the flips. She took the full impact of the last two with no Hans deivce. It was a miracle she didn't break her neck.”

He felt like he’d been slapped.

“We’ll get a car ready for you now. She’ll want to see you,” he explained, wrapping an arm around Lando and bringing him out into the paddock. Ryan, Max, and Henry shielded him from the prying eyes of the media, and got him into a car to the hospital.

What then ensued was the longest car ride of his life. Sao Paulo traffic was awful on a good day, but fuck. This was excruciating. What was worse was the inner turmoil he was dealing with. Would you ever want to see him? Would you leave him after this? Was this the end? Would you ever get back into an F1 car?

When he finally made it to the hospital, he was rushed to the ICU, walking behind a nurse.

“She’s in a stable condition, and she’s awake. She’s been asking for you,” she explained and a weight was lifted off his shoulders. You wanted to see him. You asked to see him.

He turned the corner into your room and he met your eyes. Bloodshot, with a burst blood vessel in one of them. You were bruised and broken, too many casts to count.

“Lando,” you smiled.

You smiled.

He rushed over to your side, sitting in the seat at the side of your bed. “I’m here.”

Your eyes were welling up in tears. “I wanted to see you before I left the track but they said I had to go,” you explained. “This isn’t your fault Lan. It was a racing accident. It was a mistake.”

He stared at you for a moment. How was it that you could sit there, in pain, traumatised, and comfort him? If he was a better man, he probably would’ve told you it was his fault, and not start crying at your kind words.

He started tearing up, bowing his head as to stop you seeing. “I don't deserve you.”

“You do,” you whispered, cupping his cheek. “You do, Lan. You’re here. I know you, and I know you’ve been beating yourself up for the last 3 hours. You didn’t kill me. I’m still alive.”

“I killed you for 3 minutes,” he croaked out.

“Racing killed me for 3 minutes. My defence killed me for 3 minutes. My ego killed me for 3 minutes. It wasn’t you, Lando. I turned into you, I’ve watched the footage,” you assured him. “Don’t blame yourself. I don’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, wrapping his arms around you carefully.

“I’m ok,” you whispered. “You're ok. It’s ok.”

You both knew it would take some time to get over this, but you knew you’d do it together. That was the important part.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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aealzx · 6 months ago

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_______________________

Prologue Next

_______________________

“We’ve secured the suspected meta.”

“Copy that. Red Hood, do you have eyes on the last of them?”

“Not yet, but I’m pretty sure she’s in this apartment.”

Several months ago a group of unpredictable rogues had popped up in Gotham. Nothing unusual for the city, other than they appeared to be a group of teenagers who were both criminals and heroes. Stolen goods of various types ranging from common camping supplies, food, and clothing, to an odd assortment of medical supplies and technology. Assaulted police, other heroes and vigilantes given the slip. And yet there were also many criminals dealt with that hero teams couldn’t account for who was responsible. The main lead they had gotten was the suspected meta human. A girl with white hair that could fly, phase through walls, and various other super human feats. She had been the first lead they could latch onto, and from there they had built profiles on the other three. The oldest girl appeared to be in her late teens, another girl just a few years younger, a boy the same age as the second girl, and then the metahuman, younger than all of them. They had been more of a curiosity than a serious threat. Until they had stolen something from the wrong people and painted a target on their heads. Now they were in a cross between a rescue and capture mission as the team only known as The Phantoms were being raided by pissed off crooks.

The three youngest had already been caught by the rest of the team sent by Batman, it was only the eldest girl that remained. And unless Tim could pull off a miracle Jason only had ten minutes to find her before the planted bomb destroyed the building they’d been hiding in.

With Barbara’s help he and a few of the others had searched the entire apartment building, checking each room for the remaining Phantom and placing eyes where they’d been to make sure she didn’t give them the slip and run to somewhere they’d already been. Jason had just slammed through the front door of one more apartment when he’d answered Barbara’s question, a scattering of food wrappers in a trash pile, a small cook top, sleeping areas, and other items for basic needs betraying recent habitation. It was a good hint that this was where the Phantoms had stationed, especially with the scrabbled together computer workstation setup off to one side.

There were only three other doors in the apartment, and Jason moved to the first one quickly. A closet near the front door. Empty. A bathroom across from the front room. Also empty. Which meant the last room, the bedroom, had to be where she was, if she was there.

Jason flung the door open and promptly caught the crowbar that was swung at his face, accompanied by a near frantic screech from the girl he’d been looking for

“Got her,” Jason announced to the comms, deftly yanking the crowbar out of the girl’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Begin evacuation, I’ll be out in - ….. Shit.”

As Jason spoke to Barbara and the rest of the team he decidedly ignored the girl’s demands for him to get out, having to block a fist thrown his way. He’d noticed she was obviously distressed, tears marking her dirty cheeks and a fierce glare directed his way. It wasn’t unexpected considering she was the last of her team they didn’t have in custody; she must have felt any myriad of emotions ranging from despair at failing to fear that they would hurt her. Yet Jason quickly noticed something that made him cuss mid report, and realize the girl's actions weren’t out of defiance, but protectiveness.

“There’s five of them,” Jason reported, finger pressing to his comm and eyes locked onto the new figure that hadn’t been part of any of their intel. And for a good reason. The lad was unconscious on a cot, one of the stolen items in the team’s list, and he didn’t look good. If it weren’t for the shallow, shuddering breaths from him Jason would have thought he were already dead, his skin ghastly pale other than fever flushed cheeks. “There’s another boy, heavily injured. I’m bringing them both out, have someone standing by.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Of course the girl heard his report, and renewed her efforts to fight Jason, blocking him from reaching the fifth member. They didn’t have time to converse gently though, and so Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. “Listen! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m trying to rescue you. There’s a bomb! We have to get out of the building, and get him to a hospital.”

The girl was smart. Or at least not dumb enough to ignore Jason’s words completely, for she froze the moment he mentioned the bomb. “...What?” she asked, wide eyes locking onto him, daring him to trick her.

“Look, you guys trying to steal Lazarus water pissed off the wrong people. They planted a bomb, and my team and I are here to rescue you. We can talk about your crime runs later, alright?” Jason explained a little more, really not wanting to have to knock the girl out too just to get the two to a safe area if he could help it.

The way the girl’s eyes opened, a horrified gasp escaping her, told Jason she wasn’t a bad person. Or at least reinforced what their actions aside from theft had suggested. That was the reaction of someone who realized they’d made a mistake, and felt the weight bearing down from the mess that had been caused because of it. She stopped trying to fight Jason now, pulling away and rushing to the 5th member’s side, grabbing his limp arm and hooking it around her own shoulders to try and lift him up.

“Is he safe to move?” Jason asked, stepping forward to help. Even though the lad looked fairly small, he was still too heavy for the girl judging by how she was struggling to even get him upright. “His spine isn’t hurt? No broken bones?” he asked to clarify when the girl looked at him with a question half voiced.

“No. Nothing broken, just the-” she confirmed, cutting off when Jason reached forward and effortlessly scooped the frail teen up.

“Hold onto my back. We’re going that way,” Jason directed, ignoring the way she tensed, holding herself back from demanding he not touch her friend, and nodding towards the window.

“WhAT?” the girl sputtered, hands jerking as she internally wrestled with being obedient to him or her own sense of self preservation.

“We’re out of time. Just grab on,” Jason half snapped, roughly kicking the window to shatter the glass, twisting his frame to shield the lad in his arms as well, just in case. “One minute,” he added, repeating what Barbara announced in his comms to reinforce his directions.

It was enough. Pursing her lips and giving a soft whimper the girl rushed forward to throw her arms around his shoulders from behind, clinging to him with a death grip. Jason wished he had a better way to carry both of them, but he hadn’t been expecting there to be two of them in the first place. So he could only hope the girl’s grip was strong enough to hang on as he shot a zip line towards where the others were gathered. After getting the other end secured to the building they were in, Jason latched the clip on the rope and swung over the fire escape, curling his legs up to make sure the lad he was carrying had plenty of support. He could hear a muffled, drawn out squeak from the girl on his back, but didn’t comment.

“Wh- Ja- DANNY! LET HIM GO YOU-” the mid teenage girl caught sight of them first, snarling and trashing against her restraints when she saw who Jason had. Cass refused to let her go though, pulling her back to kneeling and considering pushing her down further if necessary. She didn’t get to finish her protests though.

“HEADS DOWN!” Dick shouted after Barbara announced a second to detonation, and those who had capes were throwing them over their targets and each other, hunching over to bodily protect them from the cascades of blasts ripping through the apartment building the Phantoms had been stationed in. They were far enough away that they shouldn’t get hurt from the collapsing rubble, but there was still the possibility of smaller debris getting thrown at them. So they remained huddled on the ground a safe distance away until the rubble settled, and only when it stopped shifting did they stand again.

“Oracle, status on the inbound units?” Dick was the first to speak, the others giving sighs of relief and partially relaxing.

The two middle teenage children had quieted significantly after the explosion, the boy looking at the rubble in shock as he realized they would have been caught in it if it weren't for the group of vigilantes that had captured them. And the girl held a similar period of stunned silence before she started kicking at Cass again. “Get off me! Get your filthy hands off Danny!”

“Sam, it’s okay.” The eldest girl spoke with a shaking voice, slipping off Jason’s back and leaning her head against him in a moment of despair. Cass’s hand froze where it had been about to knock out chop her feisty captive, blinking and looking up instead. So the middle teen’s name was Sam? And the unconscious lad was Danny?

“The meta is waking up. Should I dose her again?” That was Damian, keeping an eye on the youngest Phantom. She was starting to stir, but the eldest Phantom spoke up before the others could.

“Don’t. Please. They’ve been through enough. Just please bring her over here, I’ll manage her,” the eldest girl directed. Her voice was still shaking, but it had steadied somewhat after Jason had turned slightly while remaining crouched to allow her to sit next to their 5th member, her hand resting on his cheek as she was gathering the breaking pieces of her determination.

Stephanie and Cass only exchanged looks with each other, and also Dick and Tim, before Jason spoke up. “Just bring her over. She might be more docile when she’s near this one.”

They didn’t seem completely convinced, but Stephanie at least complied, moving to crouch on one knee with the youngest girl while Damian hovered nearby with another dose of sedatives.

“You’re doing the right thing kid. When the cops get here with the paramedics they’ll get Danny taken care of. You don’t have to worry,” Jason encouraged the eldest girl, grateful that she was getting her team to behave.

“They can’t take him,” she rejected, catching the rest off guard.

“What? Look if it’s about money don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of,” Jason insisted, hoping it wasn’t because of a different possibility he was quickly starting to consider. He’d thought it was just his imagination, but Danny was unusually cold to the touch. Almost like ice. There was another common reason he knew people avoided hospitals despite being this injured.

The eldest girl shook her head again. “It’s not that it’s….” she paused, seeming both reluctant to tell them but also not sure how to tell them what was going on. She wasn’t even sure what was wrong. But when the youngest teen groaned and started to shift the eldest looked at her and found her answer. “Danny is like Danielle. Doctors can’t help them. They’re too different.”

That’s what Jason thought, but it didn’t mean he wanted to hear it, and it earned an understanding but frustrated groan from him and some of the others. “Shit. Alright,“ Dick took charge of the situation, hissing slightly and reaching to his own comms. “Oracle, where’s the nearest safe house? The 5th member is another potential meta, unconscious, and heavy bandaging over the whole torso. Can you contact home and have Penny-one or The Doctor on standby?”

As Dick took care of directing the team, Jason took care of keeping their tentative ally willing to listen to them. “We might have some contacts that can help. We have friends that also need more attention that the regular doctor can give them. Do you kids have names we can use?”

It was more of a lead than they’d had since they’d gotten stranded there, so the eldest teen seemed hesitant but hopeful to grab onto it. After a moment of thinking, her other hand reaching out to Danielle as she started to blink her eyes open, she responded. “My name is Jazz. This is my little brother Danny, my little sister Dani with an I, and our friends Sam and Tucker.”

“... Your parents gave your little siblings the same name?” Jason couldn’t help asking after hearing the relationships. That also explained a lot about why Jazz had been so frantically protective of Danny, aside from her being the oldest of the group.

“It’s… a long story,” Jazz admitted, grimacing a little. “Danielle… was unexpected.”

Looked like Jazz didn’t quite trust them enough. That was fine, they didn’t need a whole backstory right off. Oracle could probably figure it out easily now that she had names and relations. “Fair enough,” Jason dismissed with a grunt, ending his conversation as Dick approached them.

“Hey. There’s a whole mess of stuff going on, I know, but right now we’re going to focus on making sure everyone is taken care of, and then we can figure out the rest of the mess later, okay?” Dick started, leaning low with his hands on his knees and speaking gently. “The police and paramedics can take care of the criminals that were hunting you, but since he’s a special case we’re going to move to a different location where we’ll give everyone a check up. Sound good?”

Jazz didn’t jump at the offer, but they could see she saw promise in it, and hesitantly nodded. “My friends and I stay together at all times. Got it?” she demanded.

“Sure,” Dick agreed, not seeing any issue with that. “But we’ll keep the restraints on if necessary, alright? You all still have charges of assault after all.”

It was easy to see Jazz’s expression fall significantly at the reminder, as though her soul had been slightly crushed. “Yeah… okay,” she agreed, swallowing some nausea that had churned her stomach at being reminded they were criminals. Then, before Danielle could fuss too much, Jazz turned to rest a hand on the small girl’s arm. “Dani, these guys have agreed to help us. So behave and don’t pick any fights unless I say otherwise, alright?”

The fist that Danielle had prepared to punch her holder didn’t move, and after a moment Danielle groaned in reluctant relent. “Guhhhh can I at least punch the guy who drugged me? I feel awful.”

The comment earned a weak chuckle from Jazz, and she patted Danielle’s arm. “I’ll think about it. Just rest for now. We’re moving to a safe place.” She hoped she wasn’t lying to Danielle, and that these people would actually, finally give them the help they needed.

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I guess I go here now =v=;;;

Partially inspired by this post. But not including everything because there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. |D This just got stuck in my head so hard I couldn't work on anything else.

#my art #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #I dunno what to tag this with #do people get mad if the main tags get crossover stuff in them?#phantom rogues #nervous about posting #but yolo

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toxinoire · 20 days ago

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Okay okay so the scene where Glinda and Elphaba were about to escape the palace via hot air balloon, they failed because the roof closed.

But imagine what would have happened if it hadn't.

The balloon would fly, and they would escape.

Where do the winds take them?

Kansas.

Specifically, to where Dorothy is.

Dorothy, who's still around like 6 or 7.

So by some miracle, Dorothy's family lets them stay since someone needs to watch the young child while they're all away. So they basically become nannies/older sisters/substitute parents to this child.

Elphaba loves using her magic to make the little one laugh. And Glinda loves helping Dorothy dress up. The magic is a well kept secret.

Elphaba teaches Glinda some magic. While Glinda is not as powerful nor can she do as much, there are little things she can do. Such as make small objects float towards her, make flowers bloom, and control bits and pieces of light (I personally think magic is connected to not only emotion but personality).

As time passes by, Gelphie finally dates because 10 year old Dorothy one day asks Elphaba "where's your girlfriend?" while Glinda was just in the other room. Leading to an inevitable talk.

Gelphie's relationship is a well guarded secret by them and Dorothy, it took a while to explain to Dorothy why it's not so safe to tell others yet (remember the year this was made y'all), but she eventually got it.

When Toto was given to Dorothy, he did nawt like Glinda at first. He did eventually warm up to her, but Glinda still pouts about it sometimes.

Now the storm--well, tornado.

So, the house finally lands. Elphaba and Glinda step out first to make sure it's safe for teenage Dorothy to be outside.

And then the dawning realization that they're back at Oz strikes them.

And from the posters they see, it's clear that Elphaba is still wanted. Though this time, so is Fiyero. Because Fiyero lost Elphaba, the girl he's in love with but hadn't told, and Glinda (whether or not you personally believe he and Glinda had truly been in love may vary, but he cared about her, that's his bestie), he decided to take a stand as well. But of course, he had been painted as the wicked vigilante. Now, as for Glinda, she had been used to make Elphaba seem more of a villain--Morrible had been saying that Elphaba kidnapped her.

Dorothy is wondering why their names are all over this place Dorothy never heard of. Glinda and Elphaba are just like "sit down for this"

Dorothy is just "...I love that, actually."

And so now, they have to find a way home, then Elphaba fucking sees who's under the house.

And that night is spent through Elphaba crying in Glinda's arms, Glinda trying her best to comfort her, and Dorothy is also trying her best to be there.

Elphaba gets to keep the shoes this time.

Now their main question is how the fuck do they get home (they don't know of the shoes, how could they when they've been away from Oz for too long), find Fiyero, and maybe Boq, and maybe take the wizard down if they have time. How do they do all that when Elphaba is still blacklisted and Glinda is seen as some victim?

(Then maybe Glinda thinks out loud, what if there was a universe she hadn't been able to be there for Elphaba? And then the Dragon clock answers "Every other universe, you weren't there. Every other, you could never reunite. This is the only one you do." And upon hearing those words, Glinda becomes even more determined to stand by Elphaba's side because since his the only universe she stood with her, as an apology on behalf of her other selves, she'll make up to all the other Elphie's as much as she can here where she has this privilege to be with her)

#wicked the musical #wicked #wicked movie #the wizard of oz #dorothy gale #elphaba thropp #glinda #galinda upland #fiyero tigelaar #wicked elphaba #wicked glinda #wicked fiyero #gelphie #elphaba x glinda #glinda x elphaba

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narnian-neverlander · 27 days ago

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For You, Always [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.” He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Word Count: 4,7k

Warnings: slight angst, self-worth issues (both of them need a freaking hug), internalized ableism, talk about a non-consensual relationship (nothing explicit/graphic or sexual, but reader’s ex is clearly an abusive, ableist pos)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: Jayce is playing matchmaker, because both Viktor and the Reader have such bad self-worth issues, they’re not gonna get anywhere unless he whacks them over the head with his hammer

“According to Mel, he is an absolute ass, but unfortunately one of the most influential people in Piltover, so—“

“Unfortunately, he’s also kinda, sorta my ex…” you mumble into the rim of your glass, interrupting Jayce and it is comical, cartoonish almost, how his head turns to look at you so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap. Not to mention Viktor accompanying his reaction perfectly by choking on his own drink. You watch Jayce open and close his mouth several times until he finally settles on: “That guy? Seriously? Didn’t think that was your type…”

He casts an incredibly unsubtle, overly obvious glance over at Viktor as he says this and you would’ve loved to strangle him for it; thankfully the man in question is too busy coughing up fancy champagne to notice, he does however manage to get out a “Oh please tell me you lost a bet.”

Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you shake your head. “Gods, I wish. Just… young and stupid and naive and always too eager to please and — and he’s coming this way. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” You all but flee the scene about to unfold, grabbing another glass off a passing waiter’s tray as you make a break for the nearest balcony. Your friends watch you disappear into the crowd with worried frowns; Jayce’s statement of “Probably a pretty bad breakup…” getting answered with an eye roll and a heavily sarcastic “You think so? I never would have guessed.”

The next hours are spent hopping from hiding spot to hiding spot, snatching drinks and snacks off trays whenever you manage while keeping an eye out for your personified worst nightmare. By some godly miracle you manage to utterly avoid the man and the next familiar face you spot when you dare venture back into the crowds is the Man of Progress himself, surrounded by nobles and merchants alike, polite smile on his face as he makes conversation. A polite, fake smile in danger of slipping that you spot from a mile away. Catching a glimpse of the band getting ready to strike up another song, you decide to be merciful and rescue him. It’s not entirely selfless though, as you figure if the asshole does end up spotting you, watching you dance with Piltover’s very own golden boy might be a good enough repellant.

“Excuse me, Mr. Talis?” Relief floods his features as he turns around to find you right behind him, having shoved your way through the circle of admirers. “I hate to interrupt, but you did promise me a dance. You’re not the kind of man to go back on his word are you?” Voice all sweet and coy and honeyed, batting your lashes at him; the picture perfect flirt making starry eyes at the man leading the city of progress into a brighter future. And it takes all he has not to burst out laughing, because he’s seen this from you before, except it’s usually not him on the receiving end of it, but his partner. It is charming, endearing even, he will admit. No wonder Viktor can never say no to you when you look at him like that. And right now he’s beyond elated you’ve decided to play his saving grace for some reason, so he wouldn’t even dream of turning you down.

“Of course not. If you’ll excuse me.” he states, ignoring any protests from bystanders and guides you to the dance floor with a hand on the small of your back. He leads you into a waltz and waits until you’re swallowed by dancing couples until he lets his face drop into an exhausted grimace. “Oh sweet Gods, thank you. Anymore of that and I would’ve driven the cocktail sticks into my ears.”

“You’re welcome. How did you even end up like that, though? Where’s your better half? He’s usually pretty capable of getting you both out of situations like that.” He sends you a knowing grin as he spins you. “Oh so you think he’s the better half? Ouch.” It earns him an eye roll, but you’re smiling nonetheless. “Like you don’t know I have a favorite. Now answer the question, golden boy.” There’s hesitation before he answers with, “He went home for the evening.” and you almost fumble your next steps. “Excuse me? The bastard begged me to come along for weeks and now he just ditches? The only reason I agreed to come was because he actually promised me a dance.”

Jayce hems and haws and you’re ridiculously close to intentionally stomping on his foot to get him to cough up an explanation; luckily for him he manages in time. “No, no, it’s more like… I sent him home cause if he would’ve had to be in the same room as your ex any longer, I was genuinely afraid he’d take the guy’s head off with his cane.” The laugh that bubbles up from your throat is joyful and real; Jayce has always been good at defusing your irritation with humor. It takes another few seconds and another look at his face to realize that he’s dead serious and your laughter dies on your tongue, leaving behind the taste of ashes. “You can’t be— He— What?! I left you guys for two hours max!”

“Yeah, well…” he starts as he dips you, “your ex has a way of getting under people’s skin.” No shit. But you’d honestly thought Viktor was above it. “What did the asshole do? Dismiss Hextech as an obsolete fantasy?” Shaking his head, he leads you into another turn. “No, quite the opposite, actually. He was incredibly interested, but his demands for becoming a sponsor were ludicrous, to put it mildly. Final say in the direction of Hextech, majority of the shares, unrestricted access to all stages of development and… you.” This time, you do stumble over your own feet in shock, falling straight into his chest. “Pardon?!”

The poor man looks as uncomfortable as you feel as he explains. “Apparently he saw the three of us talking earlier and one thing led to another and— fuck, I don’t know what happened between you, but that man is absolutely not over you. For some reason that is entirely beyond me, he was under the impression that because we’re friends we’d somehow be able to coerce you into being with him again. And the way he was talking about you? Gods, it made me wanna punch him in the face; it was so utterly vile I can’t even repeat it. Scratch that, I just really don’t want to.” All things considered, you’re glad for his hands steadying you, cause the room’s spinning even without the dance you’re still enagaged in and you feel like you’re gonna loose all the fancy hors-d’oeuvres from earlier on the polished marble floor any second now. “Great. Lovely. Perfect. And how exactly does Viktor fit into this now?”

He sighs. “Honestly, I can’t repeat what he said either.” This seems to ground your spiraling for a moment and you cock a brow at him. “Are you kidding? He’s usually pretty eloquent.” To say you’re surprised when he snorts in amusement would be an understatement. “I mean I literally can’t repeat it, because he was so utterly livid, he slipped into his mother tongue and while I can’t be sure, it didn’t exactly sound like he was complimenting the guy.”

Finally all the pieces click into place and when they do, you slow your steps to a stop and blink up at your friend owlishly. “He… Viktor got upset on my behalf?” The way he so openly laughs at you makes your ears burn and your fist connects with his chest in a halfhearted punch. “I don’t see what’s so funny about that!” Catching your hand as you ready yourself for another swing, this time aimed at his stupid, handsome face, he reigns in his laughter and simply smiles at you; not mean spirited or teasing, but shockingly gentle and sweet. “You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?”

The anger and embarrassment in your veins all but evaporates, replaced by something soft and warm; heat gathering at the back of your neck and the balls of your cheeks for an entirely different reason now. Your mouth drops open as you try to formulate some sort of response, only to fail miserably; incoherent stuttering and beginnings of words the only thing you manage to produce. The music finally fades out and is replaced by applause for the band as your friend chuckles and inclines his head towards the door. “You should go talk to him.” A glance over his shoulder shows you the gaggle of potential investors you’d saved him from earlier already making their way towards you again. “And you’ll survive if I leave you alone with these people?” An overly dramatic sigh is your answer. “I’ll gladly sacrifice myself for your happiness.” The ‘my hero’ he gets in return is dripping with sarcasm as he winks at you and makes a shooing motion towards the exit, then turns around to head back into the fray, giving you a clean escape.

Freezing winter air hits you as you exit the venue; bitingly cold but a welcome change from the sweltering warmth of the gala nonetheless. Starting left, you catch yourself after only a few steps to reconsider. Left would be Viktor’s apartment. Right would be the lab. You know him better than that, don’t you? So you change directions, readjusting your scarf over your nose. It’s a relatively short distance to the academy, even so your fingers are starting to go numb when you reach one of the big, heavy doors leading inside. The hallowed halls are quiet and dark, making the high ceilings and ornate walls seem even more imposing than usual as you make your way towards the lab with hurried steps. It all feels like you’re doing something illegal - or maybe it would, if all the security guards hadn’t seen you hang around the two Hextech pioneers often enough for you to know all their names by heart at this point. Arriving at the lab, first glance tells you it’s as empty as the rest of the building. Except for the tiny sliver of light peeking out from under the door. Bingo.

You gingerly, quietly press down on the handle, not wanting to involuntarily startle the man you know to be inside, just in case he’s handling something explosive. One experience like that had been enough to last you a lifetime. You’re in luck, as you instead find him hunched over one of the desks, furiously scribbling notes onto various scattered pieces of paper, muttering under his breath. The small lamp at his side casts deep shadows across his face, but you’re still able to make out the frown; thick eyebrows drawn together in irritation and lips pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t possibly still be upset about what happened at the gala, could he? No, impossible. Preposterous. Idiotic. He’s hit a roadblock in his equations, that had to be it. But seeing as you’re not in any danger of accidentally causing him to blow you both to pieces you make your presence known to him.

“I do believe Jayce told you to go home, didn’t he?” Viktor almost drops his pen in alarm, swiveling around on his stool to find you have sidled up to him, leaning against the desk, in the process of ridding yourself of your coat and scarf, an amused grin on your lips. He puts a hand over his racing heart, as he says “And a heart attack is a fitting reprimand for my crime in your eyes, yes?” You only raise your brows in return, smile slipping from your face, disapproval obvious in your eyes as they flit towards the clock in the corner of the room for just a second; it’s the same look he always gets from you when he’s working when he clearly shouldn’t be. Running a hand through his already messy, chestnut hair, he shrugs. “I simply didn’t feel particularly tired when I left.”

“So I’ve heard.” you muse and pick up a random cogwheel from the table to fiddle with. “Apparently you had some… disagreements with a potential investor?” He clicks his tongue in annoyance and all but chucks the pen still in his hand across the desk. “Potential investor, don’t make me laugh. That appalling, pathetic excuse of a man shouldn’t be allowed in a five mile radius of anything Hextech. Or a five mile radius of you, for that matter.” Humming in both agreement and intrigue, you continue with what’s really been eating you up. “Jayce said you hit him with some choice words. Mind repeating those for me?” A sideways glance your way to confirm you’re certain and then he launches into a repeat of his rant from earlier that evening. He gets about three or four words into it before you throw the cogwheel at him; it bounces off his shoulder and lands on the floor with a ping. “Oh someone thinks he’s particularly funny tonight. In a language I understand, maybe?” Try as he might to hide it, you catch the corners of his mouth tugging upward slightly. “That’s not what you asked of me, though.” Know-it-all bastard.

“Oh how dare you?” Hopping up on the table for additional theatrics, you grip your chest in mock offense and throw your head back dramatically. “Here I am, having braved a journey of freezing winds and complete darkness, to bestow my thanks upon you and you don’t even have the courtesy to thrill me with a retelling of your courageous deeds. Disappointing, truly.” A pointed cough into his fist does little to hide the laugh at your antics. “Please, the venue is a ten minute walk from here and all the streets are lined with lanterns. You’ll need to try a little harder, miláčku.”

Huffing, you run a hand over your face, desperately trying to hide how much the nickname affects you and give you a second to think. Your salvation stares at you from the other end of the lab, the golden horn of the phonograph glinting in the light of the moon that filters through the windows. And he immediately knows he won’t like what comes out of your mouth next, with the way your eyes flash and your lips curl in an absolutely wicked smile. “Well you see, I still haven’t been paid for tonight.” Confusion is clear as day in both his face and his voice. “I do not recall discussing payment for your participation in the gala…?”

“Oh but we did!” you giggle as you hook your foot around the center of his roller stool to drag him closer, very much enjoying the look of utter shock on his face and the slight graze of his hands on the sides of your things as they land on the desk next to you to try and regain his balance. “A certain someone promised to dance with me if I showed up. Guess who ditched before he made good on that?” At least he has the courtesy to look sheepish, a little knowing ‘Ah…’ sound escaping him as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck and drops his gaze to his lap. With how the night had gone, he’d genuinely forgotten all about it. And before the night had even started he’d hoped you’d forget. He really should’ve known better. A finger enters his field of vision to poke him in the chest. “You’re in luck; I am nothing if not merciful, so I’ll leave it up to you: a dance or an explanation. So what’ll it be, darling?”

He’s beyond grateful you can’t get a proper look at his face at the moment, with how pink he knows his cheeks to be, lest you realize how much the nickname actually affects him. And this shouldn’t be such a hard choice, really; the way his heart stutters at just the thought of either, he should be doing both. Besides, you deserve to know. Deserve to know that he’d told that pompous swine to go choke on his wine the moment he’d as much as uttered your name. Told him that he shouldn’t even be allowed to breathe the same air as you, much less be allowed close enough to touch you. That he could amass as much money and power as he liked, he’d never be worth even a fraction of you.

You deserve to know all of that. And yet he doesn’t tell you. Because while he did what he did for your sake, it had still been selfishly motivated. Because if he tells someone interested in you off, then at least it feels like you’re his, even for just a second. Because the irony of the situation is that while your ex might be undeserving of you, so is he. For different reasons, yes, but he feels it’s true nonetheless.

So he doesn’t tell you any of it, his personal demons are not your burden to bear after all, simply grabs his cane in silence and walks over to the phonograph. Slow notes of a gentle melody fill the air a few moments later, as he turns and offers you his hand.

And you’re absolutely shell shocked, to say the least. This is… not the choice you’d been expecting. Words are his forte; he’d always choose them over physicality if given the opportunity. Or so you’d thought. This doesn’t make sense to you; why was he so desperately trying to keep what he’d said about you a secret? Or had Jayce completely misunderstood the situation he’d recounted to you and Viktor had never said anything about you at all? Why would he bother to anyways? You and your past demons aren’t his burden to bear, after all. The uncertainty must be written all over your face, as you’re met with a concerned, “Are you alright?”

It’s a simple enough question, with a simple enough answer, yes or no, but all of a sudden, you’re a child again. Sitting bruised, bleeding, soaked to the bone and crying your little heart out in the shallows of one of the offshoots of the river, an altercation between you and some other kids having turned out to be another case of you biting off more than you could chew. And then a little pale hand holding out a dirty handkerchief had appeared in your peripheral, belonging to a small, lanky boy with a cane and big, worried golden eyes.

Are you alright?

You hadn’t known him then. But you’d taken his hand anyways. Had decided to trust him. He’d never once let you down since and you have no reason to doubt him now. So you do the same thing in this exact moment as you did all those years ago: just take his hand and trust him.

He pulls you flush against him, hands linked behind your lower back, your own coming up to rest on his shoulders. It’s nowhere near as elaborate and elegant as your waltz earlier this evening, more of a simple swaying from side to side, but it doesn’t have to be. Not for you. Not as long as it’s him.

Smiling softly, you say, “A dance with each one of the Hextech geniuses in one night. I must be the luckiest person in Piltover.” He hums in acknowledgment. “And do you have a preference?”

“Oh come now, that is an utterly unfair comparison.” And your heart aches at the way his face falls just the tiniest bit. “I’ve had my preference for years, regardless of dancing abilities; poor Jayce never even stood a chance.” It’s quiet and subtle, barely more than a deep breath in and out, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. “Don’t tell him that, it’ll break his heart.” In direct comparison to him, the bark of laughter that escapes you is loud and boisterous, only amplified by the muted, soft atmosphere surrounding you both. “Please, he knows. He’s been yanking my chain about that for a bit.” Not that you particularly mind; it’s a chain you wear proudly and for all to see after all. You’d shout your love for this man from the highest towers of Piltover if only he asked. “Besides…” you start while tucking your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m here dancing with you because I want to be. I really only danced with Jayce because I thought if… if you-know-who saw it, it might keep him off my back a little longer.”

A slight turn of his head has him nuzzling your hair; the hushed whisper of your name almost sounds pained as his arms tighten around you protectively. He isn’t sure what exactly happened between you and your ex, but he’d be willing to bet that the nature of your relationship hadn’t been… consensual. It’s plain to see that the man scares you and it makes him sick. Angry. Desperate. But most of all, he’s disappointed - in himself. The conversation him and Jayce had had with him had been one thing; the bastard knew how to behave at least somewhat diplomatically while there were people of importance present. Of course, Jayce, and by extension, you, couldn’t know that he’d had the misfortune of running into him yet again while he was leaving. He’d had to listen to that waste of oxygen in expensive clothing talk about you like you were nothing more than a filthy piece of his property yet again and this time around he hadn’t managed to remain even remotely civil. Had thrown every curse and threat under the sun in two different languages his way. Had hissed at him that he’d turn him inside out if he ever even looked at you again - only for the pig to laugh in his face, pat his cheek condescendingly and give a disgusted, embarrassed look at his cane, telling him that he was ’welcome to try’ before vanishing back into the crowd. Viktor had wanted to scream at the top his lungs; it had been a while since he’d felt so utterly livid, yet so humiliated and useless at the same time.

And here you are, wanting to thank him for some courageous, chivalrous deed he didn’t actually commit. Looking at him with the biggest eyes, like he’d hung the stars in the sky just for you, when in reality, he couldn’t even properly defend you against someone who’d clearly hurt you. He has to tell you. He’s not the hero you think him to be.

“About what I said to him—“ is as far as he gets, as you promptly cut him off with, “Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter.” Not even ten minutes ago, you were essentially blackmailing him into spilling this secret and now you don’t care anymore? “I would argue that it does.” He feels more than sees you shake your head, your hair tickling his cheek. “You stood up for me, right? That’s all I have to know. It’s enough.”

Anger and disgust come back full force, choking him like bile rising in the back of his throat, not aimed at you, never at you, but at himself.

“It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh and bitter and cold.

“It’s plenty.”

Soft and sweet and warm, the exact opposite of his own words in every way; the reassurance and comfort he’s supposed to be offering you dripping from every word. When did your roles get reversed? You’re the one in distress and you’re comforting him? He’s not just useless, he’s absolutely pathetic. And even though you might be none the wiser to his self destructive thoughts, some part of you seems to know; it always seems to know as your fingers dance across his shoulders to busy themselves with the hair at the nape of his neck, calming his nerves.

“I haven’t had— I mean, no one’s ever— Most people—“ A sigh, a clear sign of frustration as you try to get your thoughts in order, warm breath fanning over his neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. “I can count the people who ever stood up for me over the course of my life on one hand; I mean, my birth parents never even bothered to. So knowing there’s someone who has my back, even when I’m not present? It’s…” Pulling back to look at him, his breath catches at the way the silvery light from outside empathizes the affection in your eyes and the tenderness of your smile. “It’s a nice feeling. Thank you.”

His hand is moving before his brain has time to play catch up, cupping your cheek and all but melting when you nuzzle into his warmth, eyes fluttering closed.

“For you? Always.”

He’s not sure he’s ever seen you look quite so peaceful and at ease and it feels like his heart is gonna jump right out of his chest; his gaze is drawn to your lips before he can fully think about what that could entail.

He watches your lips part slightly and when he manages to wrench his golden eyes back up, he finds yours already on him, wide in astonishment and he knows he’s been caught red handed.

And you consider yourself most fortunate, cause if he’d looked up even a second earlier, he would’ve caught you staring. The air is heavy and promising and whoever makes the next move decides wether or not things between you both are gonna change irrevocably.

Tonight, you’re the one that makes that decision. The decision that you’re not ready for things to change. You like what you have and are too scared of losing it. Instead, you settle for something different, yet just as poignant and important; a clear and explicit expression of love for people from Zaun. Softly tugging on his neck, he goes oh so willingly, happily even. You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.”

He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Neither one of you notices the music coming to an end, replaced by the scratchy static of needle against vinyl, too wrapped up in the moment, in each other. A bell tolls outside, signaling the coming of midnight and just like in a fairytale, the spell you seem to be under comes to an abrupt end. With a deep breath, you step back, putting some much needed distance between you, if you want your brain to function properly again, that is, and clear your throat awkwardly. “I uh… I should be getting home. Some people still have a regular day and night schedule, unlike you.”

With a small smile, you go to gather your coat as he switches off the phonograph. When he turns back to you, his heart falls in disappointment; you’re already dressed and halfway to the door. He would’ve liked to walk you home, at least, but you honestly look like you’re fleeing from something; he apparently has imposed on you enough for tonight. Pausing with your hand on the handle, you call his name again, delicately, quietly. When your gaze finds him, you’re pleased to find his full attention already on you.

“Next time you’re pulling an all-nighter… save me another dance?”

And with the way his golden eyes start to shine like the stars and his beautiful lips quirk up into that crooked half smile you adore, you can almost believe Jayce’s words - almost.

You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?

“For you? Always.”

#arcane viktor x reader #hurt/comfort #arcane #gender neutral reader #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #arcane imagine #viktor arcane #league of legends #dancing #childhood friends #fluff #angst #mutual pining

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k9wa · 9 months ago

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⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.

⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….

from this request !

it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time.

and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.

boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.

you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes.

“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”

you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.

“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.

“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”

he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?”

you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.

now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit.

“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help.

he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”

fine, you thought. two can play that game.

you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.

you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red.

then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.

his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.

you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.

boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.

“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?”

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.

“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.

“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—”

“all done.”

all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.

“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”

boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol.

“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.”

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

#‘kawa he doesn’t chew—‘ REALITY IS WHAT I MAKE IT.#plus its funny #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #boothill x you #boothill headcanons #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr headcanons #UNEARTHLY

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laligraves · 3 months ago

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sweet angel agency

dark!joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.3k summary: Joel mistakes you for the escort he ordered. masterlist | AO3

warnings: dark!Joel, TLOU AU, noncon/dubcon (im so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), older!joel/no outbreak, not proofread, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, reader has hair joel can pull, reader can be picked up by joel, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: happy october! i have these three serial killer!joel WIPs i keep jumping between but idk which one to finish 😭 so i wrote this instead lol

“No, no, no. Shit!”

Your car emits a loud creaking sound and begins to shake. Thinking quickly, you drive into a small cul-de-sac, away from the main road and fast cars. It rolls to a stop with one final groan, shutting off completely.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “are you kidding me?”

You grab your phone from the center console, noticing the 3% battery, and shoot a text to your friend that you’ll be late to the Halloween party.

It dies as you press the send button and you throw it to the passenger seat in exasperation. You look around the rows of houses. There’s a Halloween event in the city, which probably explains the lack of cars in the driveways and the turned off porch lights.

Well, all except one.

A pickup truck with tools and materials in the bed, is parked in the driveway of a home. The porch light is on and you can see the flicker of the TV through the closed blinds.

You hope the family is nice enough to let you use their phone or even if by some miracle, one of them knows how to fix your car. As you step out of the car and smooth down your dress, you pray they aren’t judgmental of your outfit choice.

It’s a tiny, silk dress complete with angel wings and thigh high stockings. You pull the dress down in an effort to cover your thighs but it only brings it down from your chest, accentuating your tits.

With no choices left, you ring the doorbell to the house. There’s no noise aside from the crickets and the TV, until you hear the heavy thuds of boots walking towards the door.

It swings open, revealing a tall, older man. His hair and beard have streaks of gray and his brown eyes are lined with soft wrinkles. The button down he wears stretches over his broad chest and as he leans his arm on the door, the bottom of his shirt rises to show a slight belly and a happy trail.

In other words, he's handsome. A quick scan of his left hand shows no wedding ring.

You give him a pretty smile, not above using your looks to get what you want.

“Hi,” you say as you give him your name, “sorry to bother you. My car broke down and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call a tow truck?”

His eyes do a slow sweep of your body, lingering on the lacy band of your thigh highs, then back up to your eyes,

“Didn’t realize you came with a story.”

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Uh–story? What?”

“And the angel costume… I guess that’s expected.”

“May I use your phone?” you ask again.

He pushes the front door wider, motioning for you to walk in. “It’s in the kitchen.”

You walk inside and accidentally brush against his body. Aside from his confusing comments, the deep rumble of his voice caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You walk into the hallway, stopping at the entrance of the living room, waiting for him to lead you to the kitchen.

“Are you… home alone or–”

You feel his hand snake through your hair and pull you back into his chest. His other hand slips under your dress and cups your pussy, rubbing over the thin material of your panties.

“What the fuck–”

You lift your hands to scratch and push him away but he only holds you tighter.

“Stop playin’ games, little girl,” he growls, “we both know why you’re here.”

His fingers, rough and calloused even through your panties, glide over your panty-covered slit in rough strokes. You’re frozen in his arms, unsure of what to do.

Your heart pounds fast in your chest and you feel warmth spread through your body.

“I don’t–please, sir–” you stutter.

His fingers slip into your panties and you bite your lip to muffle your moan. He swirls his middle finger at your entrance, gathering the slick that’s dripped out of you, and drags it up to circle your clit.

You gasp, the sudden jolt of pleasure taking you by surprise.

“So fuckin’ sensitive,” he growls, “can’t wait to sink my cock in ya’, angel.”

Your hands try to dislodge his arms from around you, but he slips his hand around your neck and squeezes, cutting off your air supply. Your wings bend in his hold and the plastic middle digs into your back.

“I told them I wanted you to call me Joel,” he murmurs, loosening his hand to allow you to breathe, “but I like sir.”

“What are you talking about—”

Joel interrupts you again, ripping your panties in a stinging snap and spinning your around to face him. You teeter and almost trip on your heels, but he crouches and swings you over his shoulder.

He brings his hand down on your ass, ordering you to stop squirming, girl, while you feel the cool air brush on your naked cunt.

Joel walks you through the hallway and into a room, dropping you on his bed. You try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your foot and yanks you back down.

“No, please,” you cry, “I don’t know what this is–”

“We won’t be needing these,” he says as he slips off your heels.

“Sir–”

Joel grabs the top of your dress and rips it half, maneuvering your body so he can untie your wings, leaving you in nothing but your stockings.

You don’t like the way your belly tightens with each stroke of his rough hands over your heated skin or the way your cunt drips with need every time he calls you a pretty angel.

He laughs at your attempts to kick or shove him away, and easily overpowers you. Joel pushes your hands back and nuzzles your breasts, gliding his nose over one, sliding to the other, until he suckles a peaked nipple into his mouth.

It gets you to stop fighting and instead you whimper in his hold, pushing your chest up so he can get more of your plump flesh into his mouth.

He makes room for himself between your thighs, grinding down his bulge onto your bare pussy. The rough material of his jeans contrasts the softness of his mouth and your brain short circuits.

“Always the same with you sluts,” he growls, “beggin’ me to stop but look at ya’, soakin’ my jeans.”

Joel props himself up, giving a kiss to the tip of each breast, and holds your mouth open with rough fingers to shove your panties inside. With your now torn dress, he uses the silk to tie your hands together.

“Can’t get away from me now, little girl. You’re all mine.”

Your knees are bent and thighs spread open, giving him a perfect view of your cunt. He uses one hand to thumb your tiny hole while the other unbuckles his belt.

“Prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” Joel says, “gonna make a mess in it.”

Joel pushes his jeans down and fists his cock, squeezing the thick length in his hand. A pulse starts in your cunt at the sight and you unconsciously tighten your inner muscles.

You push the inappropriate thoughts out of your head, reminding yourself that this is a stranger, one that you wanted help from–but the dribble of pre-cum on his purple tip makes your mouth water.

His cock is thick, angry-looking, and curved slightly. A patch of curly hair, silver streaked just like his head, covers his base.

Joel slips a single finger inside of you and you both groan, him from the snug fit and you from the stretch. Your back arches and you cry out from behind the gag.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he murmurs, “how am I gonna fit in here, angel?”

He slides his finger out and notches the tip of his cock to your slick entrance. You cry, no, no, please, through your gag, but your resolve slowly slips.

Joel holds your thighs open and thrusts in with one firm push, lodging himself to the hilt. It takes you a few moments to react, but you scream behind the gag.

“Fuck, fuck,” he says, “that’s—fuck. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

You flutter around his length, trying to accommodate his size, feeling every veiny and bumpy ridge on his cock.

He stills, clutching your thighs and sliding his fingers beneath the lace band of your stockings.

“Grippin’ me so well, angel,” Joel groans, grinding down. “Meant to be, yeah?”

No, you scream in your head, but your body quivers in excitement and you breathe in the scent of his cologne and sweat, wanting him but, at the same time remembering how you ended up here.

“Look at cha’,” he laughs, “impatient little thing. Already fuckin’ herself on my cock.”

You try to deny it, that you’re currently not swiveling your hips, bouncing with the little room you have, trying to get him to move, but it’s no use. You’re chasing the warmth that simmers in your belly and you purposefully clench around his length.

Joel moves slowly, sliding out, watching the flicker of emotions on your face.

It barely fits, and it borders on pain. But the heat in your pussy only grows with each growl or moan that spills from his mouth.

You’re embarrassingly wet, making it so much easier for him to pound into you. He watches your joined bodies, eyes half closed but focused on the way your inner lips grip him, on how your slick drowns him from tip to base.

“Should I keep you, little girl?” Joel groans. “Chain you to my bed so you never leave?”

The image flashes in your mind—you, naked and sweaty, covered in his cum and spit, completely at his mercy.

He doesn’t need a verbal answer to know the idea excites you. Little slut, he says, as your inner muscles tighten around him.

Joel pushes your hands above your head and presses his face into the exposed column of your neck. He stretches over you, trapping you under his heavy weight.

Even if this isn’t the first time you’ve been fucked—it is the first time you’ve been fucked like this. The sounds you make, whines, screams, pretty whimpers that have him holding you tighter and fucking you harder—it’s all new.

“Deep,” he whispers in your ear, “so goddamn deep.”

There’s something strangely intimate about this. He stays fully clothed, only giving you his bare cock to feel, while you lay beneath him, completely nude except for the thigh highs.

Joel, if that even is his name, is a complete stranger. Yet he pounds into you like he owns you.

His lips trail from your neck, licking the droplets of sweat that gather on your skin, leaving kisses on the corner of your mouth, uncaring of the drool from your gag.

Your thoughts jumble from the overstimulation and soon you’re sobbing, filled with his big cock, dominated by the sheer force of his entire being.

“So fuckin’ tiny,” Joel grunts, “take me cock, little girl. Take it, take it.”

His breathing becomes erratic and he thrusts harsher, hauling your thigh higher so he can move quicker. He’s close. It might be your mind playing tricks or, his cock could actually be swelling inside of you, ready to fill you with his cum.

His thumb swipes over your clit in fast circles and you ripple around his length, coming in sticky, wet spurts. Your scream, caught by surprise by the pressure of your orgasm. You tremble and cry in his hold, squeeze him hard enough that he groans in pain.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mutters, “gonna make this pussy mine.”

And he does. Joel fills your clenching, little hole with his cum, spilling his seed in your unprotected womb. You remember too late that you’re no longer on birth control, but it’s no use. You have no way to stop him from painting your cunt white, so you let him make a mess inside of you.

His hips piston with enough force to sink you into the mattress. You’re not quite sure if your orgasm ever ended, but your cunt pulses with another wave as Joel fucks the rest of his spend inside of you.

“All full of me, little girl,” he murmurs, dropping down to lay partially on top of you.

You won’t be able to walk tomorrow, or maybe for the next few days. Your entire body feels sore and your mind is delirious.

Joel gently slides out of you and places a kiss on your chin. He unties the silk from your hands and removes the wet panties from your mouth. You hear him walk out of the room, but fall asleep before you’re able to drink the glass of water he brings you.

Joel’s POV.

He’s glad he followed Tommy’s advice and switched to a new escort agency.

The others aren’t usually so responsive or reactive to his touch. They’ll play along to his fantasy, throw out a few no, please stop, but it never feels real.

You’re different.

You kicked, scratched him, drew blood from his skin. It felt real, bringing out the primal side of him that he’s so desperately tried to repress.

Joel walks into the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and his phone, intending to order you food, when he sees an email from Sweet Angel Agency sent almost two hours ago.

Dear Mr. Joel Miller,

We apologize for the late notice but our Angel will not be able to make it to your residence tonight. We will be providing you with a full refund. Please wait 2-3 business days to see that reflected in your bank account.

For any further questions or to schedule another appointment, please contact us.

Thank you,

Sweet Angel Agency

“Who the fuck is in my bedroom?” Joel says after reading the email.

But as he walks back into the room and sees you spread out on his bed, your inner thighs soaked with your combined juices, marking your heated skin in white and clear streaks, Joel realizes he doesn’t really care.

He strips out of his sweaty clothes and climbs onto the bed with you. Now that he knows you aren’t from the agency, there’s no reason to let you go just yet.

- - -

a/n: i know there are probably a few fics out there with similar tropes however if anything in this one is similar in plot to another, it is purely by coincidence! i would never steal someone’s work and i appreciate each and every fic writer out there who does these for free and takes time out of their day to give us amazing fics 🤍

#joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #hbo joel miller x reader #dark joel miller #dark fic

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sunrizef1 · 7 months ago

Text

Speechless

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Soulmate!Sargeant!Reader

Warnings: None, one curse word, not edited yay

Authors Note: Lmao the poll didn’t ask for this one but it was almost done so… here you go 😭

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Everyone’s born with a certain number of words. What happens when Charles runs out during a race and only his soulmate can get them back.

Everyone was born with a certain number of words. Usually, you got enough words to last you well into your adulthood, although the more talkative children ran out some time in high school. When you ran out of words, your voice completely disappeared, as well as your soulmates. You couldn’t say anything no matter how hard you tried. The only way to get your words back was to find your soulmate. When you do finally meet them, as soon as you touch, you both have an infinite amount of words.

The only problem with this system was the fact that there wasn’t some kind of constant counter in your vision that you could see at all times. No, instead, there was a small tattoo somewhere on your body that ticked down as you spoke. People often forgot to check and see how many words they have left, running out and taking both their own and their soulmates voices away. The wonderfully mean part about the tattoos, though, was that they moved into a perfectly visible spot when they ran out, moving to match where your soulmate had theirs.

Charles’ tattoo was behind his ear. He often got caught up and forgot to check, considering he had to have someone else help him see it. With the week he’d been having with Ferrari, he hadn’t even thought about it in days. At the start of the week, he would’ve sworn he had thousands of words left.

He really might’ve, but with the amount of meetings and interviews he’d suffered through in the lead up to Sunday, his words dwindled quickly.

Not that he knew, his hair was just long enough to cover the tattoo for anyone passing by and he was too busy to even consider it.

Charles was starting from pole. A miracle considering how shit the car had been performing. He slid the helmet on as he entered the car, effectively covering his tattoo.

He was then out on the track, lining up and slamming his foot down on the accelerator as the lights flicked green.

It was smooth enough for a while, though Max was on his tail from the very beginning, Charles having to ask for constant updates about the Red Bull.

“Ten laps left” his engineers voice crackles over the radio as Charles passes the starting line, his car roaring down the straight.

“Thank you,” Charles replies, glancing in his mirror to see Max about a second behind him still.

“How do the tires feel?” His engineer asks. Charles opens his mouth to reply but no words come out, “Charles?”

Charles try’s to speak again but all he gets is silence, his words dying in his throat. His engineer, though, assumes there’s issues with the radio, informing Fred Vassuer with a grave face.

Charles tries his best to continue the race without being able to speak. His engineer continues to talk to him, continuing to not get a response. Everytime his engineer asks him to reply, Charles gets more and more frustrated, the lack of communication pissing him off to no end.

Somewhere in the last few laps of the race, Max passes him, taking advantage of the frazzled Ferrari. Groans echo throughout the garage, the near perfect race now being ruined in the dying moments.

As Charles finishes his final lap, pulling his car into the second place spot, he can’t wipe the frown off his face. Even as he steps out of the car to the cheers of Ferrari fans above him, he practically throws the steering wheel down, knowing more than anyone that he should’ve won that race.

He slides his helmet off, wincing as Max pats him on the back. Charles sets the helmet down, not eager to talk to his disappointed team. He moves his sleeves up frantically, searching for the tattoo that would explain his lack of words. If it was still behind his ear, he’d know that his soulmate was the one to run out of words and he’d have a lot of choice words for them when he found them.

But lo and behold, the bright red zero sits on his wrist, practically mocking him. He’d used all his words and he hadn’t even thought to check before he started the race. He rolls his eyes, finally moving over to his team who all looked at him with questioning looks. He holds up his wrist, showing off the Ferrari red zero.

His team shares looks between them, groans ringing throughout the group. Charles nods, not looking forward to the next race that was only two weeks away.

You, on the other hand, were absolutely pissed. You had been in the middle of a presentation in front of your entire college class when your voice suddenly stopped short. Your word counter was on your wrist. It had always been perfectly visible and you had even been staring straight at it when it suddenly changed from 21,897 to an annoying little zero. You had rolled your eyes, quickly holding up your wrist toward your professor who beckoned you toward him. He grabbed ahold of your wrist, examining the tattoo for a few seconds. Luckily, this teacher liked you, quickly waving you off to go sit back down with a mutter of emailing you after class.

As you laid in bed later that night, fingers moving rapidly over your phone screen as you FaceTimed your brother, you were still fuming. He had FaceTimed you after you’d informed him of your dilemma, his smug face trying his hardest not to laugh. Everytime he spoke, you’d text back quickly as a response.

They took away my captaincy you sent him, watching as his eyebrows furrow. He’d known how hard you’d worked to get a spot on the University’s soccer team, even becoming a captain as a junior.

“What, why?” Your brother replies. In another world, he was attending the school right along with you, attending parties and being the Florida frat boy you’d assume he was when you looked at him.

I can’t talk to anyone, can’t do my job you reply, nails tapping loudly against the screen, they said it was “temporary” 🙄

You watch as Logan reads the texts, eyes squinting slightly. You weren’t entirely sure where he was. Although, from the looks of it, you assumed he was in the paddock somewhere, considering the fireproofs hugging his skin.

“Why were you in class on a Sunday?” Logan asks suddenly and you roll your eyes at that being the only question he had.

I’m not usually

We came in today to do presentations

Logan hums, having no idea if that was common or not, as he’d never even been close to going to college. He’d been to your campus a few times whenever he was back in Florida but that was usually to go to your games or a frat party.

“You know what would make you feel better?” Logan asks, noticing the frown on your face. You glance up toward his grinning face to see what he had to say, “You know we’re in Miami the weekend after next, right? You should come.”

You immediately start to type into your phone but Logan speaks up instead, “If I never check my texts you never said no.”

You roll your eyes, texting more aggressively. Logan laughs at the sound but is quick to rebuke the claims you’re no doubt sending into his messages, “It’s not that far of a drive, come on! You’ll have fun and I’ll get to see you again, it’s been a while. I miss you.”

You pause at his last point, erasing the refusal you’d been typing. You take a second before sending a short message. He was right though, it had been a while. Your family lived in Fort Lauderdale and it was a pretty long drive to the University of Florida.

The drives five hours

“Oh shit, is it?” He asks, eyes wide. You can see the disappointment on his face, sensing your incoming refusal, “I didn’t know it was that far. You don’t have to-”

You’re picking me up

Logan cheers as he reads your final message and you roll your eyes, not fighting the grin that makes its way onto your face. It’d be nice to see your brother again. With the relinquishing as your duties as captain, you’d have a lot more free time on the weekends. You were also pretty sure you’d be asked to sit out of a couple games due to your inability to speak so you really had all the time in the world. Why not spend it with your older brother.

You bask in your brothers glee, noticing the happiness emanating from him as he animatedly plans your Miami Grand Prix weekend.

Ferrari, on the other hand, was having a terrible time.

They had been searching overtime for a solution to their “Charles can’t speak” problem. For the time being, they had Ollie stepping in for the upcoming Miami Grand Prix, as Charles couldn’t continue to race in his… “condition”.

Ollie had raced the entirety of the previous weekend and Charles wasn’t sure how much more he could take of being on the sidelines before he just fucked back off to Monaco.

The team wasn’t entirely sure how to find someone’s soulmate but they sure were trying. Charles had already been introduced to at least 100 different women since his words had disappeared. He was getting more and more annoyed by the day.

The worst part was that he wasn’t sure he’d ever find his soulmate. There was always the possibility that he’d never get to meet her and never get his words back. His stomach turned at the thought, knowing that he’d never get to race again if that happened. Everything he’d worked for and spent his life dreaming about would be stripped away because of a girl he didn’t know.

He knew it wasn’t her fault, wherever she was. He should’ve been paying more attention to his number as it ticked closer and closer to zero. The tattoo had moved, he knew he was the one to run out. What he hadn’t even considered was that he’d taken some poor girls voice away. He’d been so wrapped up in his own job that he hadn’t thought about the fact that some random girl just couldn’t speak anymore and it wasn’t even because of something she did.

Despite his inability to speak, he was still expected to be in the paddock, as he was basically the face of the team. So there he was, sitting grumpily in his chair with his sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. Media day had been hell. He’d still gotten interviewed, his sign language coming off a bit angrier than usual.

Due to how many people never meet their soulmates before they run out of words, sign language was taught in most schools. You’d think it’d be harder to tell someone was angry through sign language but Charles was managing to convey that just fine.

After two weeks of not speaking, Charles’ attitude was at an all-time low. The bright red zero sat on his wrist, practically mocking him. The sprint race had just ended, Ollie managing p7. Charles was, of course, proud of him but he was also filled with jealousy that Ollie got to be the one in his seat when it was all he wanted to do.

Ollie, as well, was starting to reach the end of the rope, not having expected to be cast into a full-time seat so suddenly.

As Ollie pulled back into the garage, Charles darted from his seat, not able to watch the pure elation on the younger man’s face. His feet carried him through to the paddock, workers from different teams mingling and discussing the race.

Charles wandered aimlessly, everywhere he looked a reminder of the life he might be losing.

Logan had finished p6 and you were thrilled. Not a much better way to start a home race (at least for a Williams). You found yourself trying to cheer, although no sound came out.

Lily had gone off to congratulate Alex, who’d finished just one place above Logan in fifth. When Logan had introduced you to Lily, you’d quickly noticed the green infinity sign on her hand, signaling that she’d met her soulmate. You couldn’t help the jealousy that spread through you as you watch her hug Alex.

After Lilys departure, you were left alone to wait for Logan to come back into the garage. You’d seen several celebrities mingling around the paddock, averting your eyes whenever anyone looked in your direction.

You’d usually be all up for meeting people, especially someone you looked up to but with your lack of words, meeting anyone would probably be a disaster and you don’t think you’d ever get over it if you embarrassed yourself in front of any of these people.

You don’t have to wait long as Logan comes back into the garage pretty quickly. He’s quick to exit his car, cheering and celebrating with his team. A small smile breaks onto your face as you watch him, happy to see him happier than he’d ever been with the team before.

He’s zipping down his race suit as he walks over to meet you, hair messy as he pulls his helmet off as well.

You mouth a quick “good job” to him and he wraps his arms around you, infecting you with his gross sweat.

You try to lean back but he hugs you tighter, swaying slightly with a laugh. When he does eventually pull away, you make a face at him, attempting to wipe his sweat off your arms. He laughs, ruffling your hair and walking toward the exit.

“Come on, im gonna go shower before quali later and we can go get lunch,” he says, nodding toward the paddock behind him. You nod, moving closer to follow him out.

As you and Logan walk along, he points out the different hospitalities and employees, identifying everyone he knew. At one point, Lewis Hamilton sprints past, a dog hot on his heels.

“Roscoe,” Logan says, eyes still locked on Lewis’ retreating figure.

You quirk your head with a questioning look. Logan’s quick to clarify, “The dog. His names Roscoe.”

At that, you smile, glancing over your shoulder at the dog again. You look back as Logan starts to explain something in front of you again, hand moving out to point at the Aston Martin hospitality.

As you both start to get close to Williams, Logan’s eyes lock on someone a bit away. He lights up, smirking as he turns to you, “That’s Charles Leclerc, Ferrari driver. He can’t speak either, you know?”

You nod blankly, having no idea what Logan was yapping about. Logan looks back to Charles with a grin, “Maybe I should introduce you two, you’d already have something in common.”

You’re shaking your head, not wanting to experience the awkward situation of not being able to talk to someone who can’t talk either, your idiot brother having to be the bridge between you two. It didn’t help that Charles was incredibly attractive. But Logan doesn’t listen to your protests, grabbing your arm to drag you toward the driver, his hand already moving to cup his mouth as he shouts, “Charles!”

Charles had managed to wander all the way over to the Williams hospitality, his thoughts elsewhere as he dragged his feet over the pavement. He was just considering leaving the paddock when he hears someone shouting his name, causing him to look their way.

He’s met with Logan, still in his race suit, dragging a girl behind him. Charles recognized you as Logan’s sister, he’d seen you around the paddock a few times but he’d never actually met you, not often being involved with anything Williams related.

Logan stops short in front of Charles, pulling you to his side. Charles has to stop himself from wincing at the pure joy on the American man’s face, aware that he’d just gotten points in the sprint. Charles bitterly thinks he’d wished it’d been him instead.

“Charles! This is my sister, y/n,” Logan explains, glee practically melting off of him, “She’s visiting from college for the weekend and I’m dragging her along to meet people.”

Charles nods, trying to force a smile onto his face. He briefly wonders if Logan knew he had no words and decided to introduce them anyway.

But when you don’t speak either, Charles glances down at your wrist, spotting the zero on it. He grimaces, knowing that not much could come from this interaction if neither of you could speak.

He nods respectfully in your direction, being met with a soft smile in response. If it had been any other weekend, Charles would’ve been able to appreciate how pretty you looked but he was instead plagued with thoughts about his soulmate instead.

Charles signals to Logan that he was going to go back to Ferrari and Logan nods, turning to step away as someone shouts his name. Charles steps forward to get past you just as you turn to see who was yelling for your brother, causing you to collide with Charles, his phone falling out of his hand.

You swing back around at the noise, leaning down to collect Charles’ phone for him. You’re quick to hand his phone back to him, his hand brushing yours as you pass it off. In your flustered state you don’t even think as you mumble a rushed apology to him.

“Sorry!”

“Thanks.”

You both pause, eyes locked onto each others for a second. You glance down at your wrist, catching the green infinity sign sat on your wrist. Charles looks down as well, his other hand reaching to wipe gently at the skin, as if the symbol would wash away and reveal it was a trick.

You’re the first to open your mouth again, tentative speech pouring out of your mouth, “Hi?”

You seem almost relieved to hear the word, taking a sharp breath as you hear it. Charles has to withhold the grin on his face as he speaks as well.

“Hi.”

When you hear him speak, you grin widely, laughing loudly out of pure joy. Charles laughs as well, the realization that he’d just met his soulmate crashing through him.

“I think I’m your soulmate,” you manage through your laugh, smiling warmly at the Ferrari driver, a light blush on your cheeks.

“I think you are,” Charles replies, eyes softening as he looks at you. You stand in front of him for a few moments, seeming to be debating something in your head. He’s about to ask you about it when you step forward, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him into a hug. Charles pauses before he melts into the hug, never-felt-before joy pulsing through him.

You pull away, still smiling as you pull your phone out of your pocket. You open your contacts, opening a new one and titling it “Charles ❤️” before you turn your phone to him.

He takes it gently, typing in his number and sending himself a text before he hands the phone back to you. You stand and smile at each other for a few moments before Charles opens his mouth to speak.

“Do you wanna get dinner?” he asks, a hand coming up to scratch nervously at the back of his neck, “After qualifying?”

You light up, excitement filling your face, “I’d love to, Charles.”

That’s when Logan decides to come back, unceremoniously swinging an arm over your shoulder, “I’m back! You ready to go? I’m starving.”

Logan’s already turned you around by the time he finished his sentence, steering you both toward his room. You glance over your shoulder to smile at Charles, waving goodbye slightly. Charles grins back, nodding in response.

“Where do you wanna go for lunch?” Logan continues to speak loudly, his voice echoing as you walk away.

Charles watches as you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know.”

Logan’s head snaps toward you, eyebrows furrowed, “You’re speaking!”

You smirk, nodding your head at your brother.

Logan ponders this for a second with a smile before something comes to his head and his grin drops, “Wait you met your soulmate?! Who did you meet in that minute I was gone?! Y/N?”

You shake your head, crossing your arms as you walk away, Logan still frozen to his spot, “Y/N?! Wait!”

You stop in order for him to catch up, punching his shoulder lightly as he walks up, “You’re such an idiot.”

Logan gasps dramatically at your words, finally walking out of Charles’ earshot. Charles gazes after you as you walk away, a warm smile gracing his features. He pulls open his phone to see the text he sent from yours, quickly tapping to save your contact.

“Y/N ❤️”

——————————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #sargeant!reader

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skeltnwrites · 19 days ago

Text

Deck the Halls ⋆⁺❆₊꙳‧❅⋆࿔

With Eddie stuck in the hospital, the boys help you bring Christmas to him. 3k

a/n - for the amazing @littlexdeaths twelve days of promptmas! <3

“Mike, stop pulling so hard.”

“You’re holding it too high!”

Lucas scoffs. “It’s literally dragging on the floor.”

“It’s literally not–”

“Guys!” Your snow-slick boots squeal on the linoleum as you spin. “You’re gonna get us caught if you don’t stop arguing.”

“But he–”

“I wasn’t–”

“Both of you! Shut up!”

The scowl Mike gives Lucas is met with equal disdain. But he rolls his eyes and heaves the Christmas tree in his arms up a notch. You resume down the hospital hallway, hauling the front end of the tree with four grumpy teenagers in tow.

You can’t be that annoyed. Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Mike are all here with you of their own volition in this stuffy hospital very early on Christmas morning. And they all have a piece of your heart for doing so.

You adjust your grip on the tree. No matter how you hold it, the bristles poke your waist, and the bark stamps itchy lines into your palms. But you remind yourself of Eddie. Of his hospital room with white walls, white sheets, white machines, white everything. And that’s just not right, not on Christmas.

So you’re bringing the holiday spirit to Eddie this year. Between the five of you, there are three backpacks brimming with unused tinsel, lights, and ornaments, and a pine tree as tall as Lucas.

You’d have decorated earlier if you could’ve. But Eddie procrastinated until Christmas Eve to fix the lights on your roof and in his haste, his heel skidded on a patch of ice, and he tumbled off the house in a rather cartoonish display. It wasn’t funny then, but you can laugh now knowing he’s passed out on painkillers and recovering just fine. Still, two broken ribs were enough to hold him for observation and visiting hours ended before you could scrounge anything festive together. So here you are, slinking through the emergency room past receptionists, nurses, and hospital security in the middle of the night.

You raise a fist, prompting the boys to freeze. The click-clack of heels echoes from around the corner, growing louder by the step. “Back, back, back,” you order.

Mike backpedals straight into Will’s chest and Dustin steps on Lucas’ foot. The tree lurches backward as they all grapple for balance. It’s a clumsy scuffle nowhere near quiet. If whoever’s there didn’t hear you before, they certainly have now.

You try the nearest door handle and swing it open. By some miracle, the room’s unoccupied.

The boys follow your lead, bags jingling loudly with each frantic step. They shove the tree through the doorway at an angle and a branch snags on the frame.

“Wait– stop, stop!” Dustin whisper-yells.

Mike rams it through again, a flurry of pine needles shaking loose and fluttering to the floor.

“Stop,” you bark, “Turn it first.”

They’re a smart bunch but they lack teamwork skills when you so desperately need it. Several pairs of hands fight to maneuver the tree in opposite directions. And all four of them squeeze through the doorway with it, snapping a branch in half and shaking another sheet of pine needles free.

You sweep the tree remains inside with your foot– though there’s certainly still evidence in the hall– and pull the door closed behind you. The cheap window blinds crinkle as you steer them aside, just enough to see past the door.

The heeled woman is either blind, deaf, or committed to minding her own business because she strolls by the door like it’s any other. You slump against the wall, turning to flash a thumbs up at the kids as soon as she’s out of view. You’re matched with a quartet of yawns, skipping from one frown to the next.

“Almost there,” you encourage. It’s not a lie, per se, but it’s not very close to the truth either. This might be harder than you imagined.

The elevator is too risky, so you take the stairs. But hauling a whole tree up four flights of stairs is no easy task. Mumbled complaints overlap and echo in the stairwell and by the top, your arms and legs are protesting just the same.

The door whines as you crack it open, and you peer through the gap to scope out the area. There’s a nurse's station in the center of the floor manned by the same woman you’d seen earlier. Eddie’s room is on the opposite side; there’s virtually no way to sneak past without her seeing.

You turn around, eyes locking with Dustins like they’re two bullseyes.

He crosses his arms and cocks his head. He knows the look you're giving him and he doesn’t like it. “What?”

“I need you to distract the nurse.”

He says your name through a sigh, but before he can actually disagree, you yank him by the sleeve and thrust him through the doorway.

The nurse’s head pops up from the desk immediately and Dustin shakes himself into character.

“Help!” he shouts, promptly clearing his throat. “I need help– it’s my, my mother! You must help her,” he whips his head left and right. “Over here, in the elevator!”

The nurse doesn’t move. She tries to speak but Dustin interrupts her.

“No! She won’t make it! Please– hurry!”

The woman scrambles out of her seat and jogs after Dustin. He’s not very convincing, but he’s a better actor than the rest of you. And he’s very committed once he’s in it. Dustin’s cries persist, eventually distant enough that your adrenaline loosens its grip. You fling the door open, pinning it with your foot. The boys hustle through, following your pointer finger down the right corridor. You trot back ahead, escorting them right up to Eddie’s door.

The sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant imbues the frigid air in his room. The machines are off so the quiet hangs heavy. It’s the opposite of warm in every sense possible. And the little bit of it still spilling in from the hall is quickly cinched as someone shuts the door.

You grope around the darkness, staggering over to the inky shadow you recall to be a chair. Your fingertips brush the scratchy fabric, and you let your bag slip from your shoulder, landing softly on the seat.

A splash of light from the window catches one side of Eddie’s face. His lashes kiss the hills of his cheeks and his mouth is hinged open, exhaling a string of soft snores. It’s very cute, though, the kids’ expressions don’t reflect the same fondness.

“We don’t have all day,” Lucas mocks, parroting your exact words from earlier when you’d urged him to get in the van before all the heat escaped.

Your gaze sours when it reaches the boys. “Shut up. Help me stand the tree up.”

Lucas snickers, planting himself on the other side of the tree. You lift the trunk so Will can slide the base under and Mike goes prone on the floor to screw it in.

“Hurry up,” Lucas complains.

“I can’t see!”

“Shhh!”

Will pulls a flashlight from his bag and points it at Mike’s hands. The final screws are tightened and the boys let go.

You give the trunk an affirming shake before retracting your own hands. It remains upright, even after a few optimistic steps back.

If you think decorating would be the easiest part of this mission, you’d be wrong. It’s much too dark to work, even after Will situates his flashlight so it’s highlighting most of the tree. And keeping quiet might be impossible when you’re forced to mediate petty teenage arguments every five minutes.

Mike and Will are hunched over a wad of string lights on the floor, unknotting opposite ends when Lucas waves his much neater spool of lights. “Uhh, we can’t use those. I brought rainbow ones.”

Will tuts at the other boy. “So? We can use both?”

“No, it’ll look stupid.”

Will beckons you over with a growing frown. You’d swear these kids never graduated middle school if you hadn’t gone to the ceremony. The older they get, the more they fight, it seems. But your patience is thinning with each wave of attitude you receive. You’d asked for their help as their friends, not their babysitters.

“Use both,” you decide, hands pressed into your hips.

“But it won’t match!”

“It’s fine, Lucas.”

He rolls his eyes very blatantly at you. It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to drive him home then and there.

But the sound of the door handle rattling steals your attention. It jerks up and down but the door doesn’t open; one of the kids must’ve locked it. Your heart springs up into your throat, your eyes swinging around the room for an escape plan. The lock will only buy you so much time and there’s no way to safely exit through the window and—

“It’s me!” Dustin shouts, popping into the window frame. His lips are nearly touching the glass and he’s fogging up the pane with his breath.

“Jesus,” you mumble, clutching your chest as you march up to the door.

Dustin scrambles in, chest heaving with a glare aimed right at you. “You would not believe how much stamina that woman has! I mean she just kept going. I thought, I lost her, and then–”

You slap your palm across his mouth. “Shhh!”

His wide eyes follow yours to Eddie.

Eddie sighs, lips smacking as he straightens a leg across the sheets. You’ve never been so thankful to be dating such a deep sleeper.

“Sorry,” Dustin whispers.

You shove him further into the room. “Go. Be quiet.”

Dustin grabs the tail end of the lights in Will’s hands. Together they wind the cord around the bottom half of the tree. Lucas dresses the top half in rainbow bulbs, still sulking as he works.

You squat beside Mike to help him sort the ornament pile. One you brought quickly catches your eye. It’s a clay guitar pick Eddie made in middle school art class, an instant favorite of yours. You take it and hang it front and center, filling the gap in the middle of the tree where they ran out of lights.

One by one, the tree is stocked with a rainbow of mismatched ornaments. There's something from each of their homes– family photos and elementary school crafts and trinkets of every size. It’s a wild assortment but a very special one too.

Dustin is determined to hang the star– puts up a case that he was used as bait and thus deserves it– though, no one was going to argue against him in the first place. He climbs onto Mike’s back, arms stretching as far as they’ll go.

“God, you’re heavy.”

“Stop complaining. Get me closer.”

“I’m trying.”

Mike staggers closer and Dustin snatches a fistful of the top. The entire tree lurches toward him, ornaments clinking in his wake.

“Wait– careful,” you urge.

Dustin lists dangerously forward, jamming the star through the bristles.

From beside you, Will hums disapprovingly, “It’s crooked.”

Dustin’s tongue curls over his lip as he adjusts it. “Now?”

“Still crooked.”

"Now?"

Your hands hover out in front of you like a net but you are not as prepared to catch him as you look. “No, it’s fine. Just leave it.”

Dustin releases the tip and the whole tree reels back. His arm shoots back out to steady it, but a handful of ornaments swing off and onto the floor. Miraculously, none shatter, but they bounce away in a ripple of clinking.

Your focus jumps over to Eddie. He’s squinting vaguely in your direction, head tilted off his pillow with curls plastered to one cheek.

A breathy chuckle reverberates through your chest. “Merry Christmas!”

“Wha…”

The kids mimic you in their own broken choir of wishes but with half the enthusiasm you delivered.

Eddie’s eyebrows weave into one crooked arch. He attempts, and quickly fails, to prop himself up on his elbows, making a sullen sort of sigh on the way down.

You stride over to the bed, landing on the edge by his sheet-wrapped thigh. Your hand slips behind his shoulders and you offer a half smile. “Surprise?”

He winces into a sit, a hand flying to his chest. Pain folds back into confusion as his eyes flicker across each face in the room. “I don’t… Why?”

“So you can celebrate, silly.” You hook a finger under the hair stuck to his face and tuck it behind his ear.

His lashes flutter closed as he melts into your palm, slowly bending until his forehead meets your shoulder. “Sorry, ‘m so tired.”

Despite the overdramatic gagging going on behind you, you accept the embrace, running a ginger hand up his spine where his gown has billowed open. “Don’t be. Didn’t mean to wake ya. It’s early.”

His nose sweeps a cold line across your collar. “How’d you get in? Place is like a prison,” he mumbles. “Already tried to escape.”

“No, you didn’t,” you snort.

“No,” he admits, lips turning against your shirt. “You snuck in? Snuck a whole Christmas tree in?”

You lean away just enough to nod, pride softening the edges of your grin.

“And you managed to do that with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum times two.”

“I’m sorry– Who face-planted off a roof again?” Dustin cracks.

Your sudden laughter is corked with Eddie’s palm. He glares– or tries to anyway– but you know his tells. The way one corner of his mouth twitches through his frown. How he tilts his head when he’s secretly amused. “Don’t laugh at that,” he says, utterly unconvincing.

The rest of your laugh is swallowed, but the levity doesn’t fade. You peel his fingers off, gently carrying them to your lap like they might be broken too. “It’s true. You did.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t pout.” You tip your head, mirroring him on purpose. “Do you like it?”

His gaze tapers back up to the scene behind you, eyes glowing with red, green, and gold. “No, I love it,” he says honestly.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. I can’t believe this. How’d I get so lucky? Hmm?” Eddie pinches your side, cutting off your giggle with a swift kiss.

“God, gross!”

You whip your head toward the source. “Lucas, you literally have a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but you’re kissing Eddie.”

“What? You don’t think Eddie’s pretty?” Your fingers clamp either side of his face, cheeks squishing into his puckered lips like a fish.

Eddie stares blankly at Lucas, but the second his eyes bound to yours, you both burst into laughter.

“Don’t make me laugh, babe. Fuck,” he hisses, doubled over in amusement and equal pain.

“Sorry, sorry,” you amend, hands gently sandwiching his. “Oh– Let me get your gift.”

He’s curious but he still sulks as you leave, chasing the lost warmth as you slide off the bed. “A gift?”

“Mhmm,” you say, unzipping the front pocket of your bag. You fish out a small box wrapped in glossy paper with a puffy, red bow.

He gives it a good shake when you pass it to him and a knowing smirk at the noise it makes.

“Open it.” You beckon the kids closer, taking your prior spot on the bed. “It’s from all of us.”

The paper falls away under Eddie’s eager hands, a smirk growing and growing until it suddenly falters. Pure shock washes over him as he gawks at the gift. A limited edition, glow-in-the-dark set of dice he’s been talking about for months.

His eyes shoot between you and the dice several times before he asks, “Where’d you even get these? They sold out like immediately.”

You shrug, nonchalance slipping. “Know a guy.”

He rolls his eyes, giving your shoulder a good jostle. And his gaze shifts across every person in the room, thumb absentmindedly roving across the box's label. “Thank you, guys.”

“They come with one condition,” Dustin says.

“What’s that?”

“You have to resurrect Virehart the Vengeful.”

Eddie groans, burying his smile in his free hand and shaking his head. “I told you guys I’m not doing it.”

“Please, come on! That’s our only condition,” Will tries.

“He literally had like two lines.”

“And they were badass!” says Dustin. “A blade is only as sharp as the courage behind it,” he recites in a voice much deeper than his own.

“Oh my God.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand. “Fine, fine.”

The boys celebrate with a chain of cheers. Eddie steals your fingers back amidst all of the yelling, a doting little look in his eyes. Forget the dice, you’re the real gift to him.

The fuss very promptly ends when someone clears their throat. You all turn in unison, finding the same nurse from earlier. She sighs, hands planted on her hips with a disapproving shake to her head.

Eddie chuckles nervously. “Merry Christmas?”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #thetwelvedaysofpromptmas 🎄#thetwelvedaysofpromptmas #skeltnwrites

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smuttysabina · 1 month ago

Text

Mamamoo's Fuck-Fitness Program

(Male Reader x Hwasa & Solar, 5k Words) Tags: Workout sex; Sex while working out; Someone grows a GirlCock (Blame Dreamcatcher); Vagina, Oral, Anal, and Exterior Sex; Double penetration; Multiple cocks in one hole; Sweaty messy sex; Only Hwasa and Solar are there though, sorry; Sloppy Seconds; Lots of calories were burned during this smut; Can recommend this exercise for weight-loss; Thigh-fucking

Sex, is a messy activity. The grunting and exhalations, the sordid stench of sweat and hormones, the noisy slap of flesh, the taste of another person upon your tongue, the sticky fluids that invariably end up leaking everywhere... Sex was an exercise drenched in shared shamelessness, the thrill of ignoring your innate disgusts to focus solely upon the pursuit of pleasure; and of course, breeding. Which only made threesomes all the nastier. Now there was a third body squishing itself against the others, adding its own sensual heat to the mix, spicing the intercourse with its uneven dynamic that only ever encouraged more perversion. It was simply too easy to toss away your inhibitions and give in to the unnatural deviancy of the situation, spurring yourself as you seek your climax. Which, all in all, meant that you burned a lot more calories in a threesome, which was why the Mamamoo Workout Program always made sure its clients were paired with two of their ladies at once!

Fans would obviously plumb the depths of their reserves when with one of their idols, but with two of them... why, the weight would practically melt away!

It cost quite a bit to secure a session at the Mamamoo Fitness Center, but it was well known that the health benefits were worth every penny. There were only four open slots per day, and competition was fierce to obtain one, it was said that the ladies were fully booked for the year within minutes of opening; it was something of a miracle you had managed to secure yourself one. The modest office itself was tastefully decorated, pure white walls covered in informational posters and awards, and the plush chairs in the waiting room were of the highest quality. The assistants behind the front desk were equally as beautiful as the room itself, and went about their business with the quiet diligence of any medical office. A smiling secretary had given you a clipboard of forms and waivers to fill out, full of disclaimers carefully worded to avoid any explicit mention of what went on. The form had blandly informed you that your upcoming session would consist of a "personalized workout session", guided by two randomized members of Mamamoo, who would lead your "workout" until you had reached your "fitness goals". What it really meant of course, was that you would be vigorously fucked until you were on the edge of exhaustion.

The Mamamoo Workout experience had been carefully tuned to maximize the amount of calories burned during the intercourse. The controversial decision to randomize the members chosen had been done on purpose, since it had been noted that clients often burned as many calories with their least favorite member as they would have with their bias. One particularly celebrated patient had spent five hours rutting atop Wheein, and had managed to lose 20 pounds in the process. The eight hour long slots had also been chosen as the most optimal amount of time, past that and most patients were on the verge of death via excessive fluids loss. And of course, the decision to include two of the members instead of just one was to send their clients into a sexual frenzy; though it was also because the members enjoyed having sex with one another too much. On average, most patients lost around ten pounds over the several hours of intensive intercourse, their excess fat burning away as they pushed themselves to the limit to continue fucking half of Mamamoo. It was an extremely efficient method of losing weight, with the added benefit of being the best sex of your entire life.

The demure secretary returns to collect you, and your documents, checking to make sure everything had been filled out properly before guiding you to the front desk to record your temperature and weight. Nodding with satisfaction, she leads you out of the waiting room and through the doorway in the back, into a plain corridor adorned only with four brown doors. Colorful placards on the doors indicate whether the rooms were in use or not, and as you pass by the single occupied suite, you hear muffled squeals and moans emanating from it; evidently the sound-proofing here was high-quality. The assistant takes you to the room two doors down from the one currently in use, politely knocking on the door before opening it and motioning you inside. Your heart pounds and your palms grow sweaty as the reality of your situation hits you, you had been anticipating this for so long it had become almost mundane, but now that you were on the threshold... The secretary gives you an encouraging slap on the ass, and smiling kindly, assures you that you would be up for the grueling workout ahead of you; everyone gets cold feet before this! Mustering your courage, you return the favor, much to her amusement, before entering the "fitness room"; the door shuts, and locks, behind you.

Twin goddesses await you within, hands on their hips as they appraise their newest customer, their bodies sheathed in clinging tights that accentuated their plush lower lips, and sports bras that pushed out their chests. Solar seemed as bright as her namesake, cheerfully eyeing your crotch with open intent, while Hwasa glares thoughtfully at your face, her own sultry expression hinting of her love for vigorous copulation. Solar steps forward to greet you, her lithe body swaying as takes your hand and leads you further into the exercise room; which was severely lacking in conventional exercise equipment. The floor was completely covered in firm mats, with beanbags and exercise balls strewn about, there were several curiously-shaped benches, and the pull-up stand had a few too many straps than usual. Full-length mirrors covered the two sidewalls, while the furthest had various cabinets and a door that presumably led to the bathroom; and there was a tallyboard that marked the gender of every customer, it seems that women were here as often as men. Hwasa saunters up and takes your other hand, smirking slightly as she senses your nervousness, and you stammer as you introduce yourself to the two idols. The pair smile at your awkwardness, before explaining today's schedule to you once more; a mild stretching session, followed by a series of intensive workouts interspersed with breaks for hydration and restroom use, with a shower at the end to clean you all off.

Contrary to your assumptions, your time with Hwasa and Solar began with the utmost banality, the pair guiding you through some basic standing stretches before moving onto some sitting ones. If the police had burst into the room under suspicion of illegal sexual acts, they would have found a normal guy in sweats and a baggy tshirt, grunting as he strained to touch his toes, while two attractive fitness instructors watched with amusement. Now if said police returned half an hour later, well... The first sign that this was anything other than a regular weight-loss session was when Hwasa moved in front of you while your legs were spread, and smoothly slid her ass back between them. A position that left you quite conscious about the size of her posterior, now that it was nuzzling against your crotch, the pair's chests might have been similar, but Hwasa's rear was far thicker. A moment later Solar presses herself against your back, squishing her breasts against you as she slowly leans forward, stretching you out while ensuring you would be unable to escape. If Hwasa is at all troubled by the now obvious poking her cheeks, she does not show it, and placidly starts to grind against your loins; your penis obviously required stretching out as well. What started as slow teasing gradually turns into something more, as your excitement builds you find yourself moving as well, until what started as a suspicious stretch has degenerated into desperate dry-humping.

You groan as you rub yourself against Hwasa's thick ass, boldly grasping her waist so as to force her back against you all the harder, before long you are leaking through your sweatpants and onto her tights. She slowly hikes her ass up, and you eagerly follow, until it looks as if you were plowing her doggy-style, only with more clothes than usual on. Speaking of which, now that you have the room, you eagerly pull down your pants, and are surprised to discover your shirt getting yanked up as well, before Solar meshes herself against your back once more. Her hands roam your bare chest, toying with your nipples while she kisses and sucks your neck, whispering encouragement into your ear before nibbling up on it. You shudder as you hotdog Hwasa's plump butt, the fabric of her tights smooth enough to allow for easy movement, the sticky evidence of your virility smearing itself against it. With her amused face staring back at you in the mirror, the idol suddenly pulls forward, using her hand to press your cock downward before pushing back against you; and you find your cock sandwiched between her meaty thighs. Now it truly looked as if you were having sex, as you furiously fuck Hwasa's thighs, your crotch slapping loudly against her constrained ass as she squishes her legs together in imitation of her tight pussy.

With Solar pressing her supple body against you from behind, and with your cock buried between Hwasa's thighs, you feel your climax building unstoppably. The pair of idols were not blind to this, and they eagerly brought about its fruition. Solar smiles wickedly at you in the mirror, "Finishing so soon, dear?" she purrs, "we haven't even completed our stretches yet," before returning to giving your neck purple hickeys. Hwasa simply looks back at you and commands, "Cum, now," and you moaningly obey, picking up the pace as she clenches around your manhood. You had not even lasted long enough to put your first load inside one of the members of Mamamoo, and it is with some embarrassment that you empty yourself against Hwasa's stomach. You groan as you paint her tummy with your seed, your cock fooled into thinking that it was draining itself inside of her fertile pussy, when instead your sperm was wasted upon her tanned skin. Shaking from the force of your orgasm, you lean on Hwasa for support as your strength pours from your dick, as the idols loudly praise your climax.

Solar pulls you upright onto your feet, murmuring encouragingly as she massages your crotch and thighs, while Hwasa idly cleans your semen off of her stomach with her fingers, licking each in turn while staring bemusedly at you. The girls share a glance before Hwasa gets up and stalks over to a cabinet, while Solar occupies you with kisses and touches, now that the warmup was finished, it was time to pick up the pace. And of course, the pair knew the best way to encourage their clients to do just that. Mamamoo, like most Third-Generation idols, may have looked on with contempt at the alchemical aphrodisiac brews churned out by Twice, but that did not mean they were opposed to all such potions. Hwasa removes an ornate, maroon-colored flask from a drawer, tossing it to Solar before sauntering back and shamelessly stripping in front of you. Your eyes boggle as you drink in the sight of Hwasa's naked body, her fertile curves framing a massively puffy pussy that is already slick with arousal; and her swaying breasts were practically begging to be groped. Meanwhile, Solar takes advantage of your distraction and chugs a portion of the bottle, licking her lips as the cherry-flavored drink pours into her stomach and its effects take hold.

Solar lets out a moan of pure pleasure as a bulge appears in her tights, spreading upwards until it nearly pushes fully from beneath the fabric. She shudders as she gingerly reveals the results of the potion, a girl-cock of average size, twitching and tender from its recent birth, with a pair of heavy balls throbbing in their hairless sack. Mamamoo know very well that to inspire a client, it is best to set the pace yourself, and let men's natural jealousies do the rest; plus, the women tend to be rather invigorated by having their favorite idol's cock in one or more of their holes. So Hwasa wastes no time in getting on her knees in front of Solar, and enthusiastically starting to suck her off. You are admittedly shocked by this sudden development, you had not expected for one of Mamamoo to sprout a cock, but you are not entirely opposed to this... To your own surprise, you find yourself oddly aroused by the scene taking place in front of you, and soon are shoving your own stiffening cock into Hwasa's face. The idol expertly gives oral to both of you, one hand on either cock, sucking one then the other, rubbing the tips together as her tongue lathers both with warm spit. You and Solar both moan from Hwasa's efforts, kissing and groping one another as your dicks are devoured, precum dribbling steadily all over her pert lips. After what seems like an age of endless pleasure, Hwasa smoothly rises before bending over, her face still bobbing in front of your crotches, but now offering an alternative.

You are too busy enjoying the stimulation of getting a blowjob from an idol like Hwasa, and so Solar is the first to take her pussy, slipping inside of her groupmate with practiced ease. While Solar has her sloppy way with Hwasa's lower lips, you use her upper lips with equal messiness, using her head's positioning to force your cock down her throat. Hwasa gags as you fuck her face like a pussy, slobber coating your balls with every thrust as you struggle to not unload your seed directly into her stomach. You and Solar hold hands and make-out while you spit-roast Hwasa, who squirms as both of you shove yourselves as deep as possible into her, united in your eagerness to use Hwasa's body. But before you can impregnate Hwasa's guts, Solar does just that inside of her friend's cunt, moaning loudly and spasming wildly as she empties herself into Hwasa, her eyes rolling back as pleasure washes through her body. Panting, her tongue still connected to yours be streamers of spit, Solar pulls out of Hwasa, slapping her thick ass in thanks before wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you; now its your turn... Hwasa solidly plants herself against one of the wall mirrors in preparation for the pounding she was about to receive, looking back smugly at you as she spreads one cheek open in welcome. You shudder as you press your cockhead into the sticky mess leaking from Hwasa's plump pussy, your passage into her dripping hole made even easier by Solar's seed.

The cacophony of flesh slapping together reverberates through the exercise room as you violently take Hwasa against the wall. A surprising vigor fills you, turning every thrust into a hammer-blow as you break yourself against her massive ass-cheeks, your cock churning her pussy as Solar's seed pours out of it. Her sloppy cunt constricts tightly around your shaft with every thrust, gripping you tightly even while taking a ferocious pounding; idol pussy truly was superior. Hwasa growls hungrily as you plow her, licking the mirror lustfully to spur you on, her cunt gushing as she climaxes from the intensity of your coupling. With your hands around her hips, you hold her steady as you go into a frenzy, thrusting wildly as your own orgasm approaches, gasping her name with every breath while your balls throb with effort. Sweat is pouring down your skin when you finally let out a groan and force yourself deep inside of Hwasa, your semen erupting into her in a flood of jizz. Who looks back at you with satisfaction, licking her luscious lips while you plaster her pussy with your seed; relishing in every drop coating her insides. When you are finished, you stagger backwards, exhausted by your sex, and a laughing Solar passes you a water bottle as she guides you to the bathroom for a little break.

You were perplexed by your energetic coupling with Hwasa, you had not intended to be so rough with her, even though she had evidently enjoyed it, and you ponder this while you piss in one of the two toilets with Solar. Hwasa soon joins you two, squatting on the free seat and voiding her bladder as well; the pair of idol's did not need to ruminate on your sudden vigor, they knew exactly where it came from. Like most idols, Mamamoo knew full well that when fucking a cum-filled hole, men naturally grew more forceful and energetic, their bodies automatically adapting its rhythm to better scoop the semen out with its thrusts; which of course, burned more calories. So, the girls made sure to have as many holes filled with their own girlcocks and cum as soon as possible, not that it was very hard considering how good those holes were; and jealousy was a truly powerful motivator. Thus, when you three exit the bathroom, Hwasa almost immediately is laying down on padded bench, and opening her legs for Solar, who happily starts fucking your sloppy seconds out of Hwasa. You meanwhile rest on an exercise ball, idly rubbing your still slick yet flaccid cock, while the two idols make passionate love without you; a situation that makes you surprisingly aroused as you watch them fucking. Eventually, the squeals and moans are enough to get you hard once more, and you hasten to join the pair of idols once more, already knowing which hole you wanted to fill.

Solar starts with surprise when your hands grasp her waist, stopping mid-thrust to glance back at your touch, bemusement written on her features, "Oh, would you like a turn?" she asks with a knowing smile, before her eyebrows raise as you apply pressure to guide her down onto Hwasa, "Oh, wait, are you lubed up enough...?" Solar's question is answered as you press your glistening cock against her exposed asshole, and force yourself inside of her. Solar groans as she is impaled from behind, pushing herself deeply into Hwasa as you gradually fill her ass; until you are both balls-deep in your respective holes. Solar squirms as she is pleasured from both sides, her girl-cock getting massaged by Hwasa's sultry cunt, while your dick pokes at her innards; and you had not even started thrusting yet. Solar's guts probably had subtle differences compared to Hwasa's experienced pussy, but by now you were on your third load, and all your cock cared about was that it was inside of a warm hole; so it does what any dick inside of a warm hole would do, and starts moving. After an awkward start, all three of you eventually fall into a steady rhythm, allowing both you and Solar to get deep strokes in, while Hwasa simply lays there and takes it, naughtily urging you both on while you do all the work. Solar's perky butt meshes perfectly against your crotch with every thrust, and you have to contain yourself to not simply pin her against her groupmate and pound her soggy guts out of shape. Solar though, sounds like she is in heaven, gasping and moaning, becoming overstimulated and giving into her own pleasure, frantically humping away between Hwasa's thick thighs until she reaches her climax. When she pushes deep inside of her fellow idol, you follow suit, pressing yourself against her sweaty back as your weight presses Solar's girl-cock even further into Hwasa's pussy. Shuddering, Solar collapses onto her and unloads the contents of her balls into Hwasa, who groans as the warmth spreads through her belly, squished beneath both of your weight.

A glistening streamer of semen connects the tip of Solar's cock with the mess leaking out of Hwasa's cunt as she delicately maneuvers out from between you two; leaving you yet another sticky mess to unclog. But Hwasa has other ideas; obviously tired of being passive, instead she cranks the back of the bench upwards and seats you on it, sperm and sweat streaking down her thighs as she gazes down at you. She squats down in front of your upraised dick and takes it in her mouth, slobbering on your smelly meat until it is thoroughly doused in spittle, her eyebrows furrowed intensely as your tip stabs at her throat. Hwasa wears a seductive smirk when she finishes lubricating your manhood, rising back up to straddle you, placing one hand on your chest to hold you down, she uses the other to guide your cock inside of her as she sits on it. Your eyes widen in surprise when instead of slipping easily into her slimy cunt, Hwasa angles you a little further back, and forces your dick inside of her unused asshole. She lets out a satisfied grunt as she hilts you, your member twitching inside of her belly, her lips quirking upwards when she notices your expression, "What, did you think I disliked having my ass filled as well?", she brings a finger to your lips to hush you, "No, just shut up and let me enjoy myself." So you do, and she does, though it was not as if you were not savoring the feeling of Hwasa's tight anus sliding up and down your shaft as much as she was.

Hwasa's powerful thighs piston her up and down your length, a sneer of pleasure twisting her lips as your cock grinds against her insides, making you shudder with every squat. If anything, she looked smug at being able to exert some control once more, leaning down to forcefully kiss you on whim, her cunt leaking her juices steadily onto your belly. Moaning, you grope her swaying breasts as Hwasa rides you, holding onto them for support as her asshole clamps tightly around your cock. Only when you approach the edge of your orgasm does she pause, waiting until your dick finishes pulsing before resuming her sensual movements, her hips writhing atop your lap as she works you deep inside of her. After Hwasa has successfully edged you for a third time, Solar reappears behind her, no doubt painfully erect once more, running her hands down her friend's back to attract her attention. But Hwasa is teasingly aloof, "Sorry dear, this hole is already taken," she purrs, grinding meaningfully upon you for emphasis, curling her mouth into a haughty yet knowing smile. Solar simply beams though, and scoots herself onto the small open portion of the seat slipping her legs up yours until her cock and balls are squished against your own. Rolling her eyes, Hwasa stands up enough until only your head is inside of her, and you twist to try and see what is going on as you feel something hard pressing against the base of your tip. The pressure builds, and only when another rigid object surges in alongside your cock do you realize that Solar has forced her dick into the idol's ass as well. Hwasa lets out a true groan as she sits on both of your cocks, clenching tightly around both of your shafts as precum leaks out from the gaps between your cocks. With frightening flexibility, she lifts one leg up over you and turns, so that her side is now facing you, and you can see Solar smiling reassuringly from across Hwasa's swollen breasts; Hwasa's ass felt so snug with someone else in it...

With a hand on either shoulder, Hwasa bounces lustfully on both of your cocks, leaving both you and Solar moaning plaintively. Effectively pinned by each other's weigh, Hwasa has free reign to fuck you as she liked, turning what should have been in intense anal pounding into a languidly intimate ride. With your shafts squishing and slipping against one another, Hwasa's guts massage your dicks until they are the edge of bursting, then she pauses, allowing your precum to slop out over your congealed cockheads, before resuming her exquisite torture. All you and Solar can do is grab at her curvaceous body as it pumps up and and down your members, and your mind starts to melt under the unending pleasure. Hwasa's asshole makes disgusting squelching noises as precum slops out of it and onto your balls, soon your lower bodies are splattered with the evidence of your weakness. Even an experienced slut like Solar looks to be in heaven, her tongue lolling as she glares lustfully back at you, grinding herself against you in her desperation to climax. You start asking for it, pleading with Hwasa for release, which of course only makes her leak all the more, until eventually she lets out a grunt a paints the matting with a wash of gooey squirt, shuddering with ecstasy as her asshole clamps tightly around your members. Her face flushed with arousal, her hands slip onto your throats as she snarls, "Beg for it! Beg. For. It!" and with your brains sloshing with hormones, you and Solar easily comply. You beg for release as Hwasa slams herself against you, her thick ass cheeks slapping loudly as fluids spray, the two of you now humping wildly upwards while Hwasa hammers you flat again and again. Solar is the first to finish, moaning sweetly, her eyes roll back as she fills Hwasa's guts, her pulsating cock slobbering cum all over your dick as much as her coils. The stimulation is enough to make you explode soon after, drowning Hwasa's innards in semen as she squirts messily once more as her ass gets turned into a jizz-filled slurry.

Hwasa unmounts you both with a groan, Solar nearly toppling backwards off the seat as all three of you are weak and trembling from your intensive exertions. Hwasa gingerly kneels next to you, and without hesitation starts cleaning off the filthy mess coating your sensitive cocks with her mouth. Now you are truly writhing in the seat, your skin painfully stuck to the black leather by sweat, clutching her hair as her warm saliva is slathered all over your manhood. Hwasa skillfully rubs your tips together, her tongue slipping between and around them, before taking you both in her mouth, trying to fit both of your cocks into her throat and sometimes succeeding. By the end of it, both you and Solar are gasping, but your cocks are both bulging once more. Hwasa stands back up before sashaying to an uncluttered area of mat and bending over, spreading her cheeks for your enjoyment. She smirks coyly as her asshole belches a ream of semen down her leg, her gaping pussy still awash with sperms, "Who is getting which hole?", she asks, her smile growing wider, "Or are you going to share again...?" Hwasa seductively licks her lips as Solar untangles herself from you and staggers over, with you a step behind, wiggling her butt enticingly as you approach. Solar glances at you and gives you a kiss, before grinning, "Well? We have five hours left, so take your pick, or do you want me...?"

The next four hours pass in a blur of pounding flesh and spewing fluids, an unending tide of hedonism that sees you plumbing the depths of your depravity. You violate Hwasa's asshole, you plow her pussy, you fill her throat, while Solar gleefully does the same. You balls slap together in an endless cacophony, and more often than not your shafts slip and squelch against each other as you both ravage the same hole at once. Not that Solar's orifices are spared either, pumping away at her butt while Hwasa pleasures you both, or forces you to pleasure her; and Solar's face is almost as covered with both her cum and your own as Hwasa's is. All of you guzzle down vast amounts of water, only stopping when your bodies can take it no more and you have to make a break to the bathroom, often returning to find the other two fucking as intensely as before. Sweat pours down your skin like a waterfall, and the mats are covered with puddles of sexual fluids (and the occasional pond of piss from when someone was unable to reach the toilet in time), it feels like your brain has devolved until your only thoughts are for slaking your desires upon the two idols of Mamamoo. Eventually though, your exhaustion catches up to you, and when you pull out of Hwasa's sloppy cunt for what seems like the hundredth time that day you find yourself collapsing from utter fatigue.

Hwasa and Solar carefully tend to you over the next twenty minutes, pouring fluids down your throat to rehydrate you and massaging your cramped and aching muscles. When they are satisfied you can walk, they haul you to your feet, chattering amiably and complimenting you on your love-making skills; of course they barely showed even a hint of tiredness. They haul you into the bathroom, where they crudely hose the worst of the filth off of you with a shower head before frog-marching you to the exit. A smiling assistant greets you at the door, and your half of Mamamoo wave you goodbye as she leads you out, covered head to toe in cum, squirt, and other unmentionable fluids. As the girl leads you down the corridor, you idly notice that the idols had stuffed you back into your clothes, though you knew you must absolutely reek. The other occupied door cracks open as you approach, and a lady staggers out of it, her belly distended and her holes leaking so much cum it is slicking through her yoga pants in a reeking stream. She barely even glances at you as you are dragged by her, though through the closing door you notice a rather well-endowed Moonbyul and Wheein blowing kisses to their retreating client. Humming cheerfully, the assistant takes your weight at the scale, before depositing you in front of the kindly secretary from before. Who beams knowingly, before slyly enquiring if you would like to make an appointment for next year? Nodding tiredly, you flick through your calendar to look up the date, while the lady behind you noisily vomits what sounds like gallons of semen into a trashcan.

Of course you would like to make another appointment, though you are sure to ask if there have been any last minute cancellations... Another few more sessions like this, and you would be hitting your weight-loss target in no time!

#smut #kpop smut #mamamoo smut #Hwasa smut #Solar smut

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