#but it just came to my mind and like I said yeah dude this is fire
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sturniololuvz · 10 hours ago
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Could you make a sturniolo little sister fic where she is like 14 and she has sleep paralysis like Chris did while sleeping in one of their rooms and they help her like Matt helped Chris? Also I love all your fics btw they’re great!!
aww tysmmmm🩷sorry i haven’t been posting
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“Frozen in Fear”
Sturniolos x sister
Warnings : sleep paralysis
Y/N had crashed in Matt’s room for the night, too tired to go back to her own. It wasn’t unusual—she liked being around her brothers, and they never minded when she hung out with them. Matt had fallen asleep first, and she dozed off soon after, wrapped up in a blanket on the edge of his bed.
At first, she was sleeping peacefully. But then, something changed.
She was awake. She knew she was awake. Her mind was alert, her heart racing, but she couldn’t move. Not even a finger.
Panic set in quickly as she tried to call out for Matt, but no sound came out. Her breathing felt heavy, as if something was pressing down on her chest. And then she saw it—a shadowy figure standing in the corner of the room. It wasn’t moving, but she could feel it staring at her.
Terror coursed through her, but she was stuck, trapped in her own body.
Minutes passed, feeling like an eternity, until finally, her breathing hitched loud enough to stir Matt awake.
“Y/N?” His groggy voice broke through the silence. He turned over and blinked in the dim light, noticing how stiff she looked. “Hey, you good?”
No answer. Just wide, fearful eyes.
Matt sat up immediately. He’d seen this before—Chris had gone through the same thing. He knew exactly what was happening.
“You’re okay,” he said softly, reaching out to place a hand on her arm. “It’s sleep paralysis, Y/N. You’re safe. Just try to relax, it’ll pass.”
She wanted to believe him, but the shadow in the corner hadn’t disappeared. Her breathing was still uneven.
Matt rubbed her arm gently, his voice calm. “Listen to my voice, okay? You’re not in danger. It’s just your brain playing tricks on you.”
After what felt like forever, her fingers twitched. A shaky breath left her lips as the invisible weight lifted from her chest.
She sat up instantly, gasping. “Matt—” Her voice cracked as she gripped onto his arm.
“I got you,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You’re okay now.”
Chris and Nick, hearing the commotion, stumbled into the room.
“What happened?” Chris asked, still half-asleep but instantly concerned.
“She had sleep paralysis,” Matt explained, rubbing Y/N’s back as she clung to him.
Chris’s face dropped. “Oh, dude, that’s the worst.” He sat on the other side of Y/N, giving her a sympathetic look. “Did you see anything?”
She nodded, swallowing hard. “There was something in the corner.”
Nick shuddered. “Nope. That’s terrifying.”
Chris nodded knowingly. “Yeah, it feels real, but it’s just your brain messing with you.”
Matt squeezed her shoulder. “You’re safe, Y/N. We’re right here.”
She let out a slow breath, finally starting to calm down. “Can I just… stay in here for the night?”
“Duh,” Matt said, pulling the blankets over both of them.
Chris and Nick climbed into the bed too, squishing together so she wouldn’t feel alone.
“Alright, new rule,” Nick said. “Nobody sleeps alone ever again.”
Y/N let out a small laugh, finally feeling at ease. Surrounded by her brothers, she knew she’d be okay.
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cherie-luvv · 5 months ago
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Newt is not a jealous person, at least that’s what Thomas thinks. One day the blonde haired boy starts to get annoying, angry and insufferable, what could be happening to him? Maybe Thomas will find out the wrong way.
Or
Newt is actually not what everyone thinks he is, but he hides it too well. He’s obsessive, and Thomas is his obsession.
Guys should I write this or it doesn’t feel like Newt at all
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im-no-jedi · 2 years ago
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so like I know everyone is up in arms about the supposed incoming romance between Bo-Katan and Din, and I get that (I’m personally indifferent)
but also I had a dream last night that I was Bo-Katan, and I was upset about something, and Din was there, and he literally came over and just kinda held me while I was on the verge of tears (in armor of course LOL)
all I’m saying is that if that man does anything remotely similar in the show, Bo better GET IT 👀
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"just put yourself out there" really doesnt feel like helpful advice
#v.txt#idk i can follow that as much as i physically can and it still ends the same way#this kind of came to mind because its what a former friend said to me. when i was talking to him about him about how often i felt excluded#because i kept getting pushed aside by people that i thought were friends. and they all formed a clique that locked me out#and it was like...damn! yeah what do you think im doing. im here. im trying to get involved. but nobody acknowledges me or answers me.#like i was only around for the rare occasion when i was somewhat funny or providing music for them to just get inebriated to#but when it came to when i needed to be real about something or have a genuine conversation suddenly im shunned#and i had eventually snapped. i was like ok dude what the fuck is this. what is going on. why do i constantly feel so cut off from people#and he deadass was just like “just put yourself out there” as if im not the reason why he got into the friend group in the first place.#like dude i introduced him to that entire entourage. and then everyone just kind of focused only on him#its like i stop being a novelty and then the silence stretches for actual months#and then i try to figure out what it is that makes me so off putting or something#and its like. had people been more receptive and been like “oh we arent deliberately excluding you were sorry” then whatever. water under#but...that didnt happen. they just ignored me more. i tried to talk about it but nobody was willing to.#lately ive been trying to “just put myself out there” again after deciding to cut my losses.#i need better friends in my life. i need ones who are actually present. i need an actual support network that i can vibe with#but it feels like im just...not allowed that?#and i cant solely rely on axel all the time. that isnt fair on him#love him to death#i trust him with my life#but i cant be solely dependent on him. it isnt healthy for a relationship#and yet...so often i feel like i can only depend on him#nobody else has really tried to get to know me like he has#but all this “putting myself out there” doesnt really do anything even if im trying to express “hey i want to actually talk to you”#and in the end itll just end up making me feel more alone than ever despite being in a crowded room full of people#just....idk i didnt mean for this to turn into a big venting rant
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libraford · 6 months ago
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It is possible to interact with people whom share opposing views and no this is not about pineapple on pizza. In fact, it is imperative that you learn how to be civil with some people who you may find difficult to agree with.
At work, Youngin would often tell me that the guy that trained him (Ginger) was a misogynist. I had never met Ginger, and I had very little to say on this matter. But I would ask Youngin some questions about him because I like to know the other seasonal workers a little. I ask about Ginger- first words from Youngin's mouth 'he's a misogynist.'
I asked him why he thought that. (There are many misogynists at this location, as someone that is woman-shaped I see it often, I am comparing notes.)
"We were on our way to a location and a driver was going really slowly. When he got around her he said 'fucking women drivers.' Like he was going out of his way to prove that the driver was a woman."
The last month or so, Youngin worked exclusively with me because I knew that it was a matter of time before he said something that pissed off one of the guys. He was not going to get along with people here, it just wasn't happening.
When he left, everyone wanted to know what he was like to work with. And I finally got to have a conversation with Ginger.
"I'd like to ask you something a little strange- he said that on his first day there was an issue with a driver going slowly. Can you tell me about that?"
"Oh yeah! She was going super slow and when I got around her I said 'yup- little old lady driving.' And he was like 'what's that supposed to mean?' And I just kind of dropped it, but I hear he was saying I was a misogynist over it?"
So I give Youngin some grace because he's young, he's got a social bubble that's very liberal, he has not met very many people that weren't part of that kind of scene. But he often talked about how every person here has said something that pissed him off and he seemed really surprised that I (woman-shaped queer liberal) would be okay working with all these sexist homophobes.
And I give grace to Ginger because he had no reason to think that his words would be interpreted like that. What he was saying was normal to him. This is... somewhat the culture of landscaping jobs. And its not even close to the worst thing I've heard out of these dudes mouths. (Literally had one of the dudes comment that he would like to 'motorboat' one of the pedestrians.)
It was weird for Youngin to carry that with him for the whole two months that he worked here, over a very... small comment.
Every single person I've worked with here has said something that has given me pause and I tuck it away to rant about later and then I let it go. If it gets out of hand, I talk to one of the bosses about it. I know how to contact HR. I came into this place knowing that I was going to disagree politically with most of the people that I work with because I'm coming in to a culture that is fundamentally different from my own.
If I am being frank, I find the overt bigotry somewhat better than the corporate bullshit of 'we value your contributions, but won't be granting your accommodations request out of fairness to other workers' or the glass cliff or literally being fired for my sexual orientation but phrased with 'oh you just weren't a good fit for the culture here.' I at least know what I'm getting into when I come to work. I know what not to talk about. Last time I thought I was safe to talk about something queer with my boss she blindsided me with some transphobic garbage.
Its admirable to stick up for the marginalized people in your life, but part of changing minds is knowing the time and the place to comment. I think I've changed more minds at this warehouse by being a visibly out lesbian at work than I have by making carefully crafted speeches.
That is fine. It is fine to disagree. Sometimes you have to work with racists, homophobes, and assholes. That is part of being an adult. You talk about things like... sports or TV or weather or some cool bug you saw. Finding common ground with people who are different from you in many ways is an important part of socialization and it sucks to think you have anything in common with a jackass but look- you're spending 7-ish hours with these people and at some point some of them are going to say stupid shit. You are going to say stupid shit also. I have said my fair share of stupid shit. Deal with the fact that you're all stupid shits.
And for fuck's sake, wear your hardhat.
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javiscigarette · 1 year ago
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
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"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort. 
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.
 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea. 
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.” 
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 
“I sure do.” 
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him. 
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
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Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
7K notes · View notes
bettys-redwinesupernova · 2 months ago
Text
THE PRANK THAT BACKFIRED (sort of?)
drew starkey x fem!reader
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SUMMARY: reader and drew decide to play a prank on the obx cast for her youtube channel. they do the “asking to have another girl over” prank, which results in a very angry obx cast who are out to get drew😅
based on this ask !! i hope this is what you asked for @xoxosblogsblog !! i had so much fun writing this and it was ADORABLE, i hope you like it :)) <3
WARNINGS: pure tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst (not really), like one (?) curse word, insinuation of cheating (the prank), chase & rudy threaten to “throw hands” with drew lmao. (lmk if i missed anything!)
WORD COUNT: 1.25k
THIRD PERSON +
Y/N adjusted the camera, angling it perfectly to catch the cozy backdrop of the apartment she shared with Drew during her surprise visit to the set of Outer Banks season four.
The faint hum of laughter and chatter outside hinted at the cast heading out to grab food, giving her the perfect opportunity to set her plan into motion.
"Hey, guys!" she began with a bright smile, wiggling her fingers to the camera. "Welcome back to my channel. Today, I've got something hilarious planned. You've seen those TikTok pranks where someone asks if they can bring another girl over while their partner's friends or family are listening, right? Well, I'm doing it today—with Drew."
She smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've got the cast in on this. Well, not really in on it—they think I'm at a friend's place for the night, so this is going to be pure gold. Let's see how much they love me and how far they'll go to defend me from Drew's, um... betrayal."
She turned the camera to Drew, who sat beside her on the couch, half-smiling, half-shaking his head.
"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Drew muttered, running a hand through his hair. "They're going to kill me."
"Kill us, you mean," Y/N teased, poking his side. "But it'll be worth it. Trust me."
"Uh-huh," Drew replied, arching a skeptical eyebrow. "When JD and Rudy show up with pitchforks, you're taking the blame."
Y/N laughed, her grin widening as she leaned into him. "Oh, come on. You know they love me too much to actually hurt me. You, on the other hand..."
Drew sighed dramatically but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips.
A few minutes later, Y/N tucked herself behind the camera, keeping it trained on Drew. Drew pulled out his phone and dialed JD's number, putting the call on speaker. The phone rang twice before JD answered, his voice lively with the sounds of clinking plates and background chatter.
"Yo, Starkey!" JD greeted. "What's up, man?"
Drew exchanged a quick glance with Y/N before diving in. "Hey, would you guys mind if I invited someone over?"
The line went silent for a beat, then JD's confused voice came through. "Uh... sure? Who?"
"Just a friend," Drew said casually.
"Cool, yeah," JD replied, his tone nonchalant. In the background, Madelyn could be heard asking, "Who's he inviting over?"
"Oh, she's just someone I met recently," Drew added, making his voice as nonchalant as possible.
Madelyn's voice sharpened. "Wait, she? Did he say she?"
JD stammered for a moment, then said, "Uh, Drew, man, what are you talking about? You have Y/N—why are you inviting another girl over?"
"It's not that deep," Drew said smoothly, earning a wide-eyed stare from Y/N as she struggled to keep from bursting into laughter.
"Not that deep?" Madelyn's voice rose an octave. "Are you fucking insane? Y/N is literally the best thing that's ever happened to you. You're just going to, what, throw her away for some random girl?"
"Yeah, Drew, what the hell?" Rudy's voice chimed in. "Y/N's gonna find out, dude. She always finds out."
"She's not even here," Drew argued. "And I just want some alone time with this girl. Is that so bad?"
Madelyn's voice was nearly a shriek now. "YES, IT'S BAD! You're in a relationship, Drew! A really amazing one, with an incredible person who, by the way, loves you more than anything!"
"And we love her!" Carlacia added. "You're crazy if you think we're not calling her right now."
"Right?!" Chase's voice joined the chorus, sounding equally appalled. "Drew, what is wrong with you?"
JD sighed loudly. "Man, I'm so disappointed right now. Y/N's, like, the nicest, funniest person ever. She's practically family. I don't even know what to say to you."
Y/N clamped a hand over her mouth, tears forming in her eyes from trying not to laugh. Drew, ever the actor, kept his tone neutral but shot her a playful glare.
"You guys are overreacting," Drew said, feigning exasperation. "I mean, Y/N doesn't have to know, right?"
The collective gasp from the group was loud enough to make Y/N choke on her laughter.
Madison started a rant so fierce it almost made Drew break. "First of all, how dare you? Second of all, Y/N deserves so much better than this! She's gorgeous, sweet, funny—literally the whole package! And you're just going to throw that away? For what?!"
"I can't believe you right now," Rudy chimed in. "If you're serious about this, I'm calling her. Like, right now."
"No, don't—" Drew began, but Y/N couldn't hold it in anymore.
Her laughter burst out like a dam breaking, echoing through the room. Drew immediately broke character, laughing along as he waved his hands at Y/N’s camera.
"Wait, wait!" Y/N called out, coming into view of her camera. "Guys, relax! It's a prank!"
There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a cacophony of voices.
"Are you serious?!" Madelyn exclaimed. "You scared the crap out of us!"
"You both are the worst," JD groaned.
Rudy's laugh boomed through the speaker. "I was about to knock some sense into you, man."
Chase chimed in with mock indignation. "I was ready to drive back and throw hands, Drew!"
Y/N giggled, holding her stomach as she leaned against Drew. "I'm so sorry, but I couldn't resist! I saw it on TikTok and knew you guys would freak out. And you did not disappoint."
Madelyn groaned dramatically. "You two are so lucky we love you."
JD sighed. "I'm not speaking to you for a week."
"Okay, that's fair," Drew said with a grin.
Eventually, after more playful scolding and laughter, the group hung up, leaving Drew and Y/N alone again. Y/N turned off the camera, still giggling as she leaned back against the couch.
"That was amazing," she said, wiping tears from her eyes.
Drew shook his head, his expression somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "You're lucky they love you. If it were just me, they'd probably disown me."
Y/N smiled, sliding closer to him. "Well, can you blame them? I mean, look at me. I'm kind of a big deal."
He laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You really are. They adore you, you know that? It's one of the things I love most about us—how easily you fit into my world."
Her teasing smile softened as she gazed up at him. "It means a lot to me, too. They're like family. And so are you."
Drew leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "You're everything to me, Y/N. I hope you know that."
Her heart melted as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his jawline. "I do. And you're everything to me, too."
They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other. The laughter, the teasing, the chaos—it all melted away, leaving just the two of them in their shared little world.
"You think they'll forgive us?" Drew asked after a moment.
Y/N smirked. "Oh, they'll forgive me. You, on the other hand..."
Drew groaned, burying his face in her shoulder as she laughed.
"Totally worth it," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.
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betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
this was so so adorable and so much fun to write !! i hope you all enjoyed, and please please please like and reblog, it means the world when you do <3
my asks are still open so please don’t hesitate to send any in !! i’m in the mood to write some angst, hurt/comfort if you have any requests for drew or rage <3
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astrxealis · 2 years ago
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amongst all my interests the struggle of being under 18 but into ff(xiv) and wanting to make friends is an absolute pain
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#uhh aside from people i got interested in ffxiv (who have not played ffxiv much yet either way)#there is only one person i've met LMFAO the other doesn't really count uhh i did meet them before they turned 18#but for a very short while only. and while i was much younger than i am now. so i don't count them lol but <3#uhh yeah ... me! my twin! my best friend (xiv version)! that is. it#idm tbh but man ... also how ever since w my old fc/friends (we still good tho <3 just switched when materia dc came out so </3)#they uhh realized we were 'kids' LMFAO they're still nice i really appreciate that but you can tell smth changed. not that i mind much#yeah ... ive only met one other person irl who knew ffxiv aside from me and my twin's influence. and the dude actually played free trial#a bit a long time ago and then recently (like uh a year ago haha) bcs of us ^___^ and then best friend got into free trial around the#same time but bcs of being busy hasn't played much ... and uh that's it. a few other people know ffxiv in my school but i sincerely doubt#any of them played but goddamn i was in the gaming club last sy and the senior's senior actually was really into ffxiv raghhhh#not that i ever interacted w them :(( wish i was there for the year before last year. sniffs. anyway!#so yeah uhh excluding the people ive probably introduced to the existence of ffxiv there's 1. 2. 3. 4. people#who at least know it. one of those poeple is a friend of my best friend and a friend of mine too and they have a bro who plays#uhh the other was like OOOH when i said in the gaming club i was into ffxiv. so i am assuming they know Something. and then#the other has a shirt (i am betting they do not actually play... but have friend/s relative/s who do.....) and the other#okay yeah you get it anyway RAMBLES over oh god i am playing ffxiv as i type all of this down lmfao anyway. ffxiv mwa#aghh i care less about having Friends who are. ??? idk how to explain but i am less bitter and Better and Okay <3#okay that's all im tired of typing lol#wait but ff in general is a pain to be into (as my favorite video game series even) as a minor bcs#most people are just into 7 15 :/ pisses me off i love those games but it really makes me so annoyed :')#anyway !!! also bcs most fans are well into their 30s im sure and i am here. not even 18. my aunt is into ff and its thanks to her#i got into it when i was very young but i am a whole decade younger ??? and yeah#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ehbvjhebhsv and by into ff (me) i mean i am literally into. every single ff game. 1-16 and non mainlines too#havent played them all yet but !! <3 yeah#uhh okay im tired of typing bye but yeah
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jo-com · 8 months ago
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₊˚.🎧 ✩。☕ ➛ So this is love?
Max Verstappen x Fem!Sainz reader
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Summary: The man who always put racing above anything else; not even caring or investing about others because he thinks it’s a waste of time—What did you do to him to make him change his mind?
Genre: Cold!Max x Persistent!reader
Note: Grammatical errors and this is not proofread!! Enjoy thoo
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist
─────── ─ ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚💕 ─ ───────
Max stared blankly at his mates as he tuned out the noises that they spoke. His eyes narrowed and brows knitted in a frown— obviously not invested in their conversation.
“Yeah, she’ll be coming here, so be nice guys” Carlos spoke,his tone laced with a warning, glaring back at other drivers who he thinks will scare you off.
And of course he was staring directly at max.
Max cocked a brow,“What?”,he was clearly not listening to them, so why the hell are they looking at him?
The other driver rolled his eyes, “i said don’t be batshit crazy and be nice to my sister”.
“Crazy?” Max scoffed, “i don't even give a damn about her, so why do i have to be nice?.”
The room then fell quiet at his words; no one even muttered a single sound as the heavy atmosphere intoxicated them—awkwardness spreading across the drivers as they stare back and forth at each other.
For a whole five minutes, none of them had the courage to speak up and end the insufferable silence.
Not until Charles let out a scrappy cough, making the others sigh in relief from his boldness.
“Carlos didn’t mean it like that, he meant that you should just be a little nice, his sister's pretty sensitive, you see” Charles exclaimed, his voice shaking from the previous tension.
Max tutted in response, mumbling a low ‘whatever’ before standing up and leaving the Ferrari garage.
It was finally the day of your arrival, everybody were excited to meet the you… well almost everybody.
Max just slumped in the corner, his body leaning against the wall with his usual scowling face— avoiding others that tries to converse with him.
He was minding his own business and letting his mind wander off.
What’s so special about her that people kept fussing over her.
His train of thought quickly got interrupted as people swarmed the front door, their voices echoing and colliding with one another making a god awful sound.
He rolled his eyes with judgement as he stared abruptly at the doorframe— not even bothering to check or give the slightest interest on you.
But as you walked closer to his eye range, his breath seemed to hitch and his jaw slowly hung opened.
He doesn’t know how or why, but as soon as his eyes met yours it felt like his world suddenly turned in slowmo and all the others that surrounded you, now disappeared— it was like there were only the two of you.
Max never felt something like this before, it’s a weird and uncomfortable feeling. How the hell do you make it stop?
His once cold and composed look now turned into a love sick fool expression.
“Hey man you okay?” Logan asked, his tone dripped with pure concern over his fellow driver.
Max suddenly jumped from Logan’s presence. He never even saw that he came and leaned besides him. It was so unusual for him to be that unattentive.
Max lets out an awkward cough, “yeah, i am good, just looking like everyone else.”
“Looking? Dude you look like you want to get down on your knees for her” the other joked, easing up to max.
But to him it wasn’t a joke, he was conflicted on why he looked like that and was it obvious to everyone?. What the actual fuck is happening to him.
He then raised his hand and gently lay it to his forehead to check whether or not he has a fever. Damn no fever.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Logan responded, his eyes curled into a soft concern gaze.
Max didn’t answer and flickered his eyes back to yours. His face suddenly heats up as you stare back and smile at him. Your smile that was radiant like the sun and eyes soft like sky.
After that short and subtle interaction, he can’t seem to keep his focus and just let his thoughts wander off that lead to that moment.
“You’re max right?” You greeted, tugging the excess hair to your side and smiling softly at him. Having him a clear view of your angelic appearance.
Max could feel his whole face being flushed, god he wishes you don’t notice, “uhm yeah” he spoke, his tone that was always high and mighty now turned into a low and shy ones.
You hummed in response and puckered your lips with a pop, “well I’ve been seeing you all day and you’re always avoiding me, is there something wrong?”
Max’s eyes widened, “no..i-uhm there’s-“ he stuttered; trying to find the right words but nothing came out right.
You examined his actions and then let out a few giggles at his antics. You didn’t understand why they call him mean, to you he was just adorable.
After that day, the two of you often hang out with each other and would hear whispers and murmurs about you guys, but always brushed it off and ignore people.
“Here try this max” you beamed, handing him the mango that you were holding— smiling from ear to ear as you share your favorite fruit to someone speacial. You loved mango, i mean how could you not? It’s tasty and delicious.
He gave you a look of uncertainty, he never liked mango, it’s weird looking and nothing will ever change his mind about it, even you.
But maybe one bite won’t hurt.
“Haha sure” he replied, taking the fruit from your hand and gently taking a bite out of it. He then gulped it down his throat and stared back at you— your eyes sparkled with joy and excitement, as you await for his response.
“It’s alright” he answered, giving you a thumbs up to which you retorted with a happy clap.
“Thank god you like it, I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d like one of my favorite fruits”
Hmm maybe mangoes aren’t that bad.
It didn’t take long before max realized how inlove he was with you and as soon as he did, he asked to court you.
Of course you agreed to it, you as well fell for him but you also wanted to get the approval of both your parents and brother.
That’s why Max took it upon himself to make your parents like him, though he knew that the real obstacle was Carlos.
“So, you’re telling me that you want to date my sister?” Carlos asked, his voice dripped with sarcasm and anger.
Max smiled nonchalantly, “yes”
“You want to date her with that attitude?” Carlos spat, his teeth gritted with each word.
“Yes” he answered again bluntly.
He was getting on Carlos nerves and you could tell.
“Haha uhm Max can you come here for a sec?” You laughed dryly, grabbing Max’s sleeves and dragging him to the side.
“What did we talk about? I told you to be nice” you scolded, rubbing the bridge of your nose to ease your stress.
“I was being nice” max grumbled, his brows knitted in a frown out of habit.
Unbeknownst to them, Carlos was in the sidelines listening, laughing silently at his fellow driver, ‘hehe he’s done for, he never admits his mistake and apologize’ he thought.
“Sorry, I’ll try okay?” Max mumbled, making you smile and kiss his cheeks in response.
Carlo’s jaw dropped, What the fuck, why was THE max verstappen apologizing, is this real??
The two of them came back hand in hand and faced Carlos once again.
“I am sorry for being rude, and yes i am dating her so please approve”.
Carlos was still in shock, never in his life had he seen Max act like a puppy and apologize to anyone.
“No uhm it’s okay we’re good” he replied, his voice shaky from disbelief.
So that’s what max is like when inlove. Damn he’s like a lost puppy.
Sorry for not uploading too much🥹🥹 I’ve been busy but i hope you enjoyed this!!💋
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mayanneaa · 2 months ago
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hits different - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.
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PAIRING : jj maybank x ex!reader
SUMMARY : jj broke up with you two months ago, but this one party makes him truly realize what he’s done.
WARNING(S) : swearing, jealous and super drunk jj, a little angst, fluff, minimal use of y/n (like once), might have some grammar errors, english is not my first language
A/N : first fic on here heheh obv inspired by 'hits different' by taylor swift. i recommend listening to it while reading :) dividers by @roseraris !! not proofread dont kill me
WC : 1.7k
masterlist.
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After a fourth beer, the party got too loud and the lights too bright. Normally, in a moment like this, he would run to you, wrap his arms around you, and inhale your sweet, calming scent. Just as he’s about to do it, the realization hits him like one of the waves nearby.
You aren’t together anymore.
He sharply inhales and looks around. His vision is softly spinning, but it’s no problem for him. JJ spots you in a second. With another boy.
You two are just talking. You don’t even know this guy, he came up to you to ask about something so random it got lost in your chat long ago. You give him one of those kind smiles, and JJ feels his fists clench. “Fuck.”
The music changes. As if he wasn’t already miserable, the speakers let out the first notes of your song. The one he first kissed you to. The one you two always played, alone at the chateau dancing on the back porch.
The memories flood his mind, and he can’t take it anymore. Jj feels his heartbeat loud in his ears, and he wants to leave. To go to any of the pogues, or, even better, drive away in the Twinkie. But his eyes cannot move from your face, and his legs just don’t work.
It baffles him. Not once in his life, he couldn’t move on. But this time, with you, it's different. It hits different.
You finally catch him. The guy is still talking to you, but your attention is on the other side of the beach. Before you can interrupt, you see John B. coming up to JJ. He tells him something, grabs his arm, and leads his best friend somewhere. You feel your heart sink. “Are you okay?” you hear the guy ask, making you turn your head.
“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you quickly say, leaving him alone. You have to find JJ.
“Dude, stop this shit right now,” John B.’s holding the steering wheel, making his way to the Chateau. JJ's taken the passenger seat, shoulders slumped, and he runs his hand through the blonde strands.
"Yeah, easy for you to talk." he snarls, "You and Sarah are all happy together, you don't know how it's like-"
"I don't know because I don't just randomly break up with my girl over a bad day I had." John B. cuts him off and lets out a deep sigh. "JJ, you should talk to her. Everyone's done. You are constantly miserable."
JJ doesn't say anything. The words hit him like a slap, unnecessarily hurtful. Outside the window he sees the familiar place - they are at the Chateau.
"Get some rest, okay?" John B opens the door and helps JJ get in the house. "Call me in case something happens."
The blonde nods his head and plops on the couch, legs stretched out. Minutes pass, and he finds himself whispering your name, over and over again, as if he's scared he'll forget it.
His mind still replays that cold May night.
You two agreed to meet at the dock. The wind softly overflowed your face as you were waiting for him. When he finally came, you felt something was wrong. His usual smile was gone, and he didn't even look at you. You hugged yourself in your hoodie, "JJ? Is everything alright?"
He let out a shaky breath, leaning over the railings. "I think we should break up."
You blinked in surprise, your heart feeling heavy. "What?"
Your voice sounded smaller than you intended. You reached out for his hand, your own shaking.
"It will be better for both of us." JJ dismissively said, swallowing hard. A shiver ran down his body, and his throat tightened, but he brushed it off.
You felt so much hitting you. Tears burned under your eyelids, and anger started to bubble up. Did you do something? Or maybe he just decided you weren't good enough for him anymore?
"No," you whispered at first, but your voice was growing louder, "You don't get to just... just decide on my behalf!"
The moonlight fell on his face, and you tried to find any answers in his eyes. He stiffened, shaking his head before he repeated, "It will be better if we end it now."
You opened your mouth, but not a word came out. The tears threatening to fall finally flooded your face, a quiet scoff escaping your lips. "I can't believe this. This is how much it meant for you?"
You were met with silence. The atmosphere on the dock could be cut with a knife, and you couldn't just stand here. Before you registered it, your legs led you down, far from your boy- well... ex-boyfriend. JJ's eyes followed your every step. He wanted to run after you, to wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But he didn't.
It wasn't just a one-day whim he had. It stuck with him ever since you two decided to make it official. It grew with every late night you spent not on something you like, but on cleaning him up after another fight. You didn’t say anything—but he knew. He knew that sooner or later, it will be too much. He will be too much to handle.
The sweetest girl walking on the earth, a literal angel and him. A failure, a Pogue whose fate it was to end up just like his father—always drunk, always angry.
His heart ached at this thought. You had so many opportunities, and if you decided to let it go because of him, he would never forgive himself.
Breaking up before he got even more attached was for the better. It had to be. Right?
JJ doesn’t know how long he’s been lying like this. His breathing is now steady and slow, and he has to remind himself to breath in again.
He closes his eyes, but can’t escape you. The memories come fast—not giving him much time for defense.
Your face. Always in the sun, glowing as if you were a goddess. The lips glossed from the cherries you’ve been eating. Your eyes, the creases forming in the corners almost constantly from smiling.
Your touch. All these quick brushes, the way you traced your soft fingertips over his forearm every time you sat nearby. The long, tight hugs during which JJ’s hands wrapped your waist, him hungrily inhaling your perfume.
His breath hitches. Is it truly the best this way?
Before he can answer, the quiet crack of a key opens the door. He darts up and immediately regrets it, as the whole room starts spinning.
“JJ?” he hears a soft whisper, and his heart skips a beat.
The warm lights of the Chateau reveal your face. He feels the heat rising to his cheeks, “What are you doing here?”
His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. You step closer, with a cautiousness that kills something inside him. He avoids your gaze, staring at the suddenly interesting floor.
“You’re not doing great, huh?” you say, but there’s no mockery or anger in your voice. There’s just… worry.
JJ turns around on his heels and sits down on couch, fearing that if he stands for a minute longer, he might just fall. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit that intensified over the two months.
“Stop it, Y/N.” he finally replies looking at you for the first time. The light reflects of his watery eyes, and his voice breaks when he continues, “Go back to the party and your new stupid little boyfriend.”
Your eyes widen. “Are you fussing over me talking to a guy after you broke up with me?”
JJ shakes his head, looking at the floor again, “Doesn’t matter. Not anymore, I guess. You really should go—”
“Why did you end this?”
The question feels like an arrow through his heart. You’re standing with your hands crossed, not planning on going anywhere. “Why, J? We were happy. Did I do something…?”
“It wasn’t you.” In the response, he hears a snort.
Your gaze is heavy, with your eyebrows arched up. “Classic. Then what was it, JJ?” The tone of your voice is pushing, and you don’t even try to control it, “What happened that you decided to just leave me?”
“I was scared!” he snaps before he can think of anything better to say. “How do you imagine it? You… you can’t suffer with me forever. It’ll break you one day and—”
“JJ.”
The way you say his name pulls him out of the spiral. It slips off your tongue smoothly, just like it used to. You grip his arm, and JJ forgets what he was even talking about.
“You don’t get to make this decision without talking to me. Did you ever asked me how I feel about this?”
A blush creeps up on his cheeks, and whether you want it or not, the corners of your lips rise.
He tries to make any sense, the tears dangerously close to falling. “I mean— You deserve someone better. Someone who will keep you safe and… I’m not that person. And I don’t think I’ll ever be.”
You sigh. “Maybe. But I don’t want anyone better, baby. I want you. That’s my decision.”
With these words, with what you called him, his walls crash. You pull him closer, your bodies touching and he can’t take it anymore. JJ lets out a muffled sob into the crook of your neck, gripping you like he’s never letting you go.
Your fingers find their way up to his hair, running through the golden strands as he’s shaking.
“I’m sorry.” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. So sorry—”
“Shhh,” You draw small circles on his back, and his breath slows down after some time. “We will talk about it tomorrow, ’kay? You’re super drunk right now.”
“Promise you won’t leave.” JJ sniffles, the tip of his nose pink. You giggle, but he pulls away to look at you, a serious expression on his face. “I’m not joking! Promise me you’ll still be here in the morning. Please.”
You gently squeeze his shaking hand and can’t help but smile. “I promise.”
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the-offside-rule · 3 months ago
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Lando Norris (McLaren) - Two Hands pt. I
Requested: yes
Prompt: this ask
Warnings: tensionnn and Im making this a two part series
Part 2 Sports Car
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The sun was barely peeking over the Hollywood skyline when Y/n arrived on set, coffee in hand and a spark of excitement in her step. The concept for her and Tate McRae’s new music video, Two Hands, had come together beautifully, sleek visuals, a sultry tone, and a storyline that mirrored the tension in their song. Y/n adjusted the strap of her dress as she walked onto the music video set, the sound of crew members shouting instructions filling the air. Tate McRae was standing off to the side, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and waved, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. "Hey, you made it!" Tate greeted as Y/n approached.
"Yeah, traffic was insane, but I'm here." Y/n replied, setting her bag down on a nearby chair. "What's the plan for today?" Before Tate could answer, a familiar voice cut through the air. "Y/n?" Her heart dropped as she turned around to see him. And there he stood, hands casually tucked into his hoodie pockets, his signature grin plastered on his face.
Lando fucking Norris.
Her breath hitched at the sight of him, his familiar mischievous grin lighting up as he looked her up and down. "It’s been a while." He said, striding toward her. Y/n froze, coffee nearly slipping from her grip as her mind flashing back to the string of nights they’d spent together during last season. Miami. Montreal. Silverstone. Austin. Vegas. Each memory was vivid and unshakable, and now here he was, standing on the set of her music video like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Uh, yeah, it has." She replied, attempting nonchalance.
Tate, always attuned to Y/n’s moods, sidled up beside her. "Y/n? You good?" She whispered. "Can we- can you come with me real quick?" Y/n asked, dragging Tate along to the other side of the parking lot. "Dude. What’s wrong?" Tate asked. "What's wrong?" Y/n hissed back. "What’s wrong is that Lando Norris is here, and I wasn’t told he’d be in this video." Tate smirked. "He’s the cameo. PR gold. You didn’t know?"
"No!" Y/n exclaimed under her breath. "And, oh my god- jesus- Tate, we’ve slept together!" Tate’s eyes widened before her lips curled into a sly grin. "Oh my god! Like a one might stand sorta thing?" She chuckled. "More like five seperate nights." Tate raised an eyebrow. "Five? Wow, okay, overachiever."
"This isn’t funny." Y/n groaned. "What are we supposed to do now?" Tate sighed. "It’s a little late to change things. He’s already here. Besides, we’ll just cut his scenes later if it’s too weird. PR can spin some excuse for why he’s missing in the final cut." Y/n groaned but nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But if this blows up, you owe me."
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
The shoot began smoothly enough. The video was set to showcase Tate and Y/n doing what they do best; giving their fans an iconic music video, with a storyline involving sleek cars, night drives, and bold choreography. Lando's role was to add a touch of glamour as a cameo, driving a papaya McLaren around the streets at night.
The day progressed faster than Y/n anticipated. Tate was her usual cheeky self, keeping the mood light despite the awkward tension simmering whenever Lando was around. The big moment came as the crew prepped the McLaren for a scene where Y/n would ride in the passenger seat while Lando drove through neon-lit streets. "Just lipsync the lyrics while he drives." The director instructed. "We’re going for sexy but understated." Understated. Sure. Y/n climbed into the car, her heart pounding.
The beat thumped in her ears as the car accelerated. She turned to Lando, his hands confidently gripping the steering wheel. His smirk was still there, but something new flickered in his gaze as her lips curled into the sultry line: "I want them all to see, you look good on top of me." Lando’s jaw tightened, his eyes darting to hers as she sang. "At this time, at night I need. Not one, not three." Y/n caught the way his lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, and then, he bit his lip.
Oh, so we’re doing this?
Fine. If he was flustered, she’d make it worth his discomfort. Y/n leaned in, her hand sliding up to tangle in his hair as she pulled his face toward her. Their eyes locked, her lips barely brushing his ear as she whispered the lyrics. "Just your two hands on me. Like my life needs saving." His breath hitched audibly, and for a split second, she wondered if he might slam on the brakes. "Let 'em all know. Can you do it like that?"
"Cut!" The director’s voice crackled through the radio. They broke apart instantly, and the silence that followed was deafening. Y/n avoided his gaze, fixing her hair and pretending nothing had happened. When she returned to set for the dance break, Tate was waiting with her arms crossed and a knowing smirk. "You two looked awfully comfortable." Tate teased, bumping Y/n’s shoulder. "Almost like you’ve done it before."
Y/n shot her a withering glare. "Shut up."
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The buzz of the set hummed around Y/n as she sat on the sidelines, watching Tate film her solo dance scene. The spotlight followed Tate’s movements, her fluidity captivating, but Y/n’s focus wavered when she caught a glimpse of Lando approaching out of the corner of her eye.
Damn it.
"Fancy seeing you here." Lando said, casually sliding into the chair beside her. His voice was light, but his eyes held an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "It’s not like I had a choice." Y/n replied flatly, crossing her arms. "I have a job to do and you just so happen to be here." He chuckled softly, the sound low and familiar. "Still, feels like fate."
"More like bad luck." She shot back, keeping her tone cool even as her stomach fluttered. Lando leaned in slightly, his cologne teasing her senses. "You’re as sharp as ever." He murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. "I missed you." Y/n snorted, more out of defense than amusement. "Missed me? Please. You missed me in your bed, maybe." His grin faltered, replaced by something more serious, more vulnerable. "To be fair, you never gave me the chance to miss you anywhere else."
The weight of his words hung in the air, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. She turned to look at him, his face so close she could see the faint stubble on his jaw. He wasn’t joking. "Look, I know this is...complicated. But I want to see you. Away from all this; no racing, no music videos, just us." Y/n blinked, stunned. Her lips parted to respond, but before she could form the words, Sean, the choreographer, clapped his hands loudly from across the set. "Y/n! Let’s go! Dance break!" She exhaled sharply, grateful for the reprieve, and turned on her heel. "Duty calls." She said briskly, walking away before Lando could reply.
As she approached the center of the set, Tate intercepted her, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
"I’m fine." Y/n lied, waving a dismissive hand. Tate’s smirk told her she wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she gestured toward the floor. "Alright, let’s get this over with. Sean’s in full perfectionist mode." Y/n nodded, forcing herself to focus as Sean began shouting instructions, his energy bouncing around the room. She positioned herself in front of the camera, her muscles tightening in anticipation.
The music started, the beat pounding through her body, and she threw herself into the choreography, letting the rhythm drown out the lingering tension in her chest. But as her feet moved and her body swayed, her mind betrayed her, replaying Lando’s words over and over like a melody she couldn’t shake.
Just us
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wonderjanga · 10 days ago
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Was thinking of the terrible dad captain marvel post when my brain went
What if they (incorrectly) believe that the kid’s other parents are gods? (Or possibly Black Adam)
Flash: “Look, I’m just saying that the little purple one is probably Hermes and his kid.”
Marvel: *walks in the room* “Hey guys! What are you talking about?”
GL: “About how you have like five baby daddies.”
*silence*
Marvel: *looks scandalized* “…What?”
Flash: “About how you have five baby daddies.”
Marvel: *speechless for a solid minute* “Where did you hear that from???”
GL: “No one, but you kinda implied it, man-”
Marvel: “When did I do that?!?”
Flash: “Look, just- You’re not slick. Anyways, right now we’re just trying to figure out who exactly are the five. I’m guessing Hermes is a little purple one’s dad.”
Mercury: *doesn’t know whether to laugh or be offended*
GL: “And I’m guessing that the little gray ones dad is Zeus because he always messes around with lightning and technology.”
Meanwhile in Olympus…
Hera: *suspicious* “Something just happened…”
Back at the Watchtower…
Zeus: *retching sounds*
GL: “I have no idea about the other three though. Like who’s the green one?”
Mercury: Billy, say Huītzilōpōchtli. I want a shoutout for my boy.
Marvel: *appalled* “I AM NOT SAYING THAT.” *is talking to Mercury*
Flash: *thinks he’s talking to them* “Okay, okay, damn. No need to get so worked up.”
Marvel: “I wasn’t- never mind. What made you think? I have five different baby daddies??”
GL: “Dude all your kids look different, all you really need is a pair of eyes to see that.”
Marvel: *confused as to why he said “your kids”* “Wha?”
Flash: “By the way, who are Junior and Mary’s too? Mary looks a lot like you, so did you do that weird thing where gods that are siblings get together and have kids?”
Marvel: *somehow even more appalled* “Oh my Gods, no??? That’s fucking disgusting!”
Flash and GL: *share a look because Marvel rarely curses*
GL: “Well, that’s good then but still, who are all their parents??”
Marvel: *scrambling to pull something out of his ass so he can end this conversation* “I- uh- they don’t have parents!”
Flash and GL: *confusion*
Marvel: “Yeah! They spawned a little bit after me from the Rock!”
GL: “How long was a “little bit after?” You look old enough to be their dad.”
Solomon: ‘The ability for champions to share their powers with others came into existence around 120 thousand years ago. Just say that, Billy.’
Marvel: “Well, i’m like 200,000 years old and they came to existence like 120,000 years ago.”
GL: “Jesus, I forgot how old you guys are.”
Flash: “Dang, so you’re not their dad.”
Marvel: “No! If anything, we’re siblings!”
Flash: “I guess I could see that making more sense.”
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sinofwriting · 8 months ago
Text
4 plus 1 - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)
Words: 1,499 Summary: Four times Logan celebrated mothers day and the first time he celebrated fathers day (part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse)
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Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse
One
The first time Logan celebrated Mother’s Day, he was five. His grandpa had stolen him away from his momma, which had made him pout, but then he had crouched down in front of him and quietly asked if he wanted to buy his momma a present for Mother’s Day.
His grandpa, whenever he told the story, always liked to joke that he was surprised that Logan’s head hadn’t fallen off with how hard he had nodded yes.
He had gotten taken to the store where Logan picked out a card that apparently said world’s best mom on it, which had made his grandpa grumble that he was way too young for his daughter to be a mom before letting him pick out a big bouquet of flowers.
Scrambling out of the car and into the house, Logan struggled to hold the flowers that were nearly bigger than him and the card, just barely able to see the way his momma’s jaw had dropped seeing him and the ways tears came to her eyes when he cheerfully wished her a happy momma’s day.
Two
In 2014, Logan got to celebrate mother’s days twice for the first time. His momma not even knowing or realizing that England celebrated it on a completely different day, her bemused expression at him giving her candy and a card staying in his mind.
She had still hugged him tight, pressing kisses all over his face and telling him she was the best son, which had made him squirm, telling her that she was the best momma, the two going back and forth until Logan gave up because she had started to tickle him and his stomach ached from laughing.
Three
Logan stares at the display in front of him, trying not to feel awkward with the eyes boring into him.
“Dude, these are like fifteen grand.” Oscar hisses under his breath.
“Yeah and none of them are the one.” He hisses back, giving the employee a polite smile. “Do you have anything else?”
Their eyes narrow a little, but they nod, an emotionless smile on their face. “Of course, Sir. Our next display.”
Following them over to the next display, his eyes immediately land on a necklace and he instantly points at it. “That one. I’ll take that one, please.”
“Are you sure?”
He frowns, “Yes. I’m sure.”
He turns to Oscar as they start to open the case. “Momma is gonna love that one.”
“Do you have the money for that?”
“Of course.”
Oscar’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure? Because if those were twenty thousand, I can’t imagine how much these will be.”
Logan nods, shrugging. “Yeah. I’ve got money.”
The clearing of a throat makes Logan turn back around, the necklace is sitting on the counter in its opened box.
“This necklace is forty thousand pounds.”
Logan hears Oscar taking in a sharp breath of air, but Logan is already reaching for his wallet. “I’ll take it. And no gift wrap please.”
They blink at him before nodding. “Of course.”
Oscar hits his arm when they disappear with the necklace behind a curtain.
“Are you kidding me? Forty thousand pounds for a necklace? Pan is going to kill you! Mother’s Day gift or not!”
Logan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m eighteen now and it’s my money. Momma can’t kill me for buying her this. Besides, I haven’t given her a gift under a thousand dollars since I was like six. And she’ll love that necklace.”
Oscar looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head. “Okay, it is way too easy to forget that Harry is a billionaire and by proxy you are.”
“Something tells me you don’t want to know how much your birthday present was.”
“What does that mean?”
Logan smiles at Oscar, shrugging.
“Logan, what does that mean?”
Four
“Can I help with anything?”
Logan jumps at the sound of Max’s voice, nearly banging his head into the opened cupboard door if not for Max, quickly yanking him back.
“Shit.” He curses, turning Logan around and running a hand over his forehead and head, checking for bumps. “You okay?”
“I’m okay. You just scared me.” He chuckles. “Help with what?”
Max eyes him for a moment. “Mother’s Day. I know that it’s in between Miami and Imola for you guys, and I didn’t know if you wanted help with anything.”
“Oh.”
Logan looks at the older man, he doesn’t need any help with Mother’s Day. Already has his momma’s gift sitting in his closet, but Max is asking if he can help. Max cares about their relationship, so he finds himself nodding.
“Actually yeah.”
Max’s whole face lights up. “What can I do?”
Logan quickly says goodbye to his momma’s Christmas gift, but he guesses that what was supposed to be her Mother’s Day can just be her Christmas gift. “There’s this watch she likes, but there’s maybe ten available in the world right now.” He starts to tell Max.
Plus One
Logan has never had a father. And as much as he loves his grandpa, he wasn’t really a father figure for him. The closest he got was maybe Oscar’s dad, but even then he never really saw him enough for that. Max though… Max feels like his dad.
He cares about him, and not just because he’s dating his mom. He talks to Logan, checks in on him, before the first session of every day, Max always ducks into the Williams garage to hug him. He brings him water every time he does media, even when he isn’t scheduled for media for a few hours.
It hasn’t yet been a year, but Logan already can tell he’s fighting a losing battle of not just calling Max his dad. And he knows that Max hasn’t let himself think of himself like that. He’s heard him call him his kid a hundred times, but never once has he called himself Logan’s parent or dad. Always respecting the relationship between his mom and him and the boundaries that Logan has set.
But Logan wants Max to call himself Logan’s dad. Wants to call Max dad to his face and not just to Oscar when he’s too tired to filter or to the media to make the journalists go a little crazy.
So he finds himself laying on the couch, head in his momma’s lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.
“Can we talk?”
“Always.”
His lips quirk up a bit at the quick response. “It’s about Max.”
Her fingers still for just a second before resuming. “What about Max?”
Her voice is measured, smooth, and it gives Logan the courage to say the next words. “I want to call Max dad.” His voice goes quiet. “I want him to be my dad.”
“Oh, baby.” And her voice breaks around the words.
He sits up to look at her. “Are you mad?”
“No.” She smiles, reaching forward to cup his face. “No, baby. Not at all. I’m happy. I’m so happy.”
“So, it’s okay?”
She laughs, her free hand brushing away her tears. “Logan, you can call anyone you want dad, that’s not my choice, that’s yours.”
“Do you think he’ll be okay with it? I want to do it on Father’s Day. Give him a card too.”
“I think Max will be over the moon.”
A week later, Logan shuffles into the living room, a breakfast tray in his hands, where Max is sitting, watching the recap for Le Mans so far.
“Hi.” He greets.
Max smiles at him, “You didn’t need to bring me breakfast.”
He shakes his head, stopping Max from getting up. “I wanted to. It’s a special day.”
“I mean, Le Mans isn’t this kind of special.”
Logan huffs out a laugh, handing over the tray to Max, who places it on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him.
“Get enough sleep?”
Logan nods, running a hand through his hair, the other clutching at the card he has for Max. “Wasn’t too bad. I actually have something else for you, because y’know special day.”
Max’s eyebrows raise and Logan can feel nerves fill him. “I still have no idea what you are talking about.”
He shrugs and after a moment he passes over the card, carefully watching Max’s face.
Max looks delighted at getting handed the card, but Logan can see the moment he realizes what kind of card it is. His eyes going wide, his whole body stilling. The room would be quiet if not for the Le Mans highlights playing.
The older man carefully opens it up after a long moment, his breath catching as he reads the written words from Logan.
“Logan,” he starts, and his voice is thick.
“Happy Father’s Day, dad.” Logan speaks before he can say anything else.
“Come here.” He finishes, opening his arms, and Logan dives into them. “I love you so much, kid. So fucking much. I’m gonna be the best dad for you.”
“You already are.”
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boysmentfs · 2 months ago
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The trip to the beach.
A collaboration with @misctf .
Steve was the most cliché of the word "nerd" with only 5'4 tall, with pimples and with irritating little voice he was the target for the jock boys in his university. But despite being victim of sneers and bullying, he was the happiest student in college, he always smiled, helped people and was quite studious. So the mockery towards him mattered little to him. Today was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, Steve was studying hard in his room, he didn't have any plans for today and he didn't care to have one either, his parents were not home so he enjoyed being alone quietly until someone knocked on his house door.
"Who could it be?" Steve sighed, “I’m really behind on my work.” He looked at the essay he was in the midst of completing, “I should...” The second knock was louder, “Must be important.”
Steve quickly made his way to the front door. As he went to open it, he paused. He could hear the boisterous laughter from the other side, the frequent use of the word ‘bro’, and a few belches. His stomach dropped.
“What could they possibly want?” Steve thought miserably, “I should really...” He sighed. It wasn’t in his nature to just ignore someone. What if they needed help?
“Oh shit! Look who it is! What’s up lil’ bro?” Garrett laughed, emphasizing the word ‘lil’. He put his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging.
“Uh hey.” Steve stammered, “Uhm, I...I...” His mind was racing, trying not to stare. Garrett was rather good-looking- dark hair and eyes, his chiseled face framed by a well-groomed, short beard. And looking further down, it was obvious that his years on the baseball team did wonders for his body- all of which was framed nicely in his tight tank-top, “Sorry, just studying today.” Steve blushed, mentally admonishing himself for making it so obvious that he had a thing for the star pitches on the team.
"Studying?! Lil’ dude, come on.” Garrett groaned, nudging one of the other jocks, “Seriously dude, how lame. How about this? We came here to invite you to the beach.” He placed his firm rugged hand on Steve’s shoulder and grinned, “Lil’ dude, it’s gonna be fuckin’ lit. Cheerleaders, booze, you name it. When’s the last time you did something like that, huh lil’ dude?”
Hearing this, Steve raised an eyebrow. None of these things were as appealing to him as Garrett likely thought they’d be. Although, the naively optimistic part of Steve wanted to imagine this could be the start of a friendship with Garrett. Part of him yearning for closeness with the jock. But Steve shook his head before adjusting his glasses- on what planet would he ever be friends with Garrett?
"I don't want to be rude or offensive, but why are you inviting me?” Steve questioned, “Jake and Logan were just bullying me the other day.” The two jocks behind Garrett snickered, earning them a disapproving look from Garrett.
"I know... Dude, but believe me we want to make peace, me and my bros promise we won't make fun of you again!” Garrett replied, no hint of insincerity in his tone, “Besides, it's Saturday and being at home? It's boring as hell."
Steve sighed, mulling over the offer. Would it be nice not to be bullied by these meatheads? Yeah. Would it be nice to spend time with Garrett? Yeah. Did he really think they’d make peace after this? Steve sighed again- the rational part of him saying to shut the door. The other saying to give these bros a chance.
"Okay, okay... I’ll go.” Steve said, the uncertainty of his choice evident in his voice.
“Oh sick lil’ bruh, but like, don’t sound too disappointed.” Garrett laughed, slapping him on the back and knocking the wind out of his small frame.
“But really, I’m doing this to make peace.” Steve insisted, “No funny business.” He tried to sound confident and stern. Garrett smiled and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, “Oh and..." Steve bit his lip, “This is so embarrassing but it’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach. I don’t really have any appropriate swimwear.”
"That shouldn't worry you bro! Give me a second." Garret grinned, “You’re just in luck, lil’ dude.” Garrett seemed way too excited, “Check out these!” His bro reached into a bag and handed him some green shorts with a bit of blue and gave them to Steve. "Here! These shorts belonged to one of our bros. Well former bro. He went on to bigger and better things.” Garrett sighed, “Internship or some shit. Brains and brawn, can you believe it?” The other jocks snickered.
Steve looked at the shorts and made a face of disgust. Did Garrett and his bros really think he would wear someone else’s shorts? Why did they seem to have them ready too? Steve awkwardly grabbed the shorts, and looked back over at the group of jocks.
"Garrett... I uh." Steve could see the look of excitement in Garrett’s eyes. Like he was proud of something, “I don’t really feel comfortable wearing another guy’s shorts. And besides, these aren’t going to fit me."
“And why not, lil bro? I wear my bro’s stuff all the time.” Garrett grinned, “I understand that you don't have the same muscle mass as us, but they’re shorts, shorts look good on everyone."
"Yes... but..." Steve sighed- how was he going to make these oafs understand his discomfort when they clearly had no shame?
"Dude, just get changed. We’ll wait here for you." Garrett grinned, “Come on bros, I’ll get the car started. I got a bomb playlist.”
Steve watched as they walked back to their car, all chuckling and talking about their beach plans. And before long, loud obnoxious music filled the air. Steve cringed, worrying what his neighbors might think of the loud music.
“The faster I get this on, the faster we get out of here.” Steve figured, walking back to his room.
Once there, he quickly undressed and examined himself in the mirror. He frowned as he examined his short and lanky frame- his skin pale from the hours spent indoors studying. His brown hair a curly mess atop his head. Nothing compared to the healthy tans and meaty muscles Garrett and his bros sported. Steve shook his head, ignoring these negative thoughts. Instead, he turned his attention to the pair of shorts in his hand.
"This is so disgusting...” Steve mumbled, taking a whiff of them, “Oh god, did they even wash this?” Steve was instantly teleported back to his high school locker room- the smell wafting from these shorts an unpleasant reminder of his days in gym class, “What have I gotten myself into?”
He grimaced as he slowly pulled the shorts up his skinny legs, where they rested over his Marvel boxer briefs. Yet despite his initial disgust, he was surprised to see how well they fit. He figured he owed Garrett some credit- shorts do look good on anyone. Steve walked over to his closet, rummaging around until he found on of his old discarded tank-tops. After placing that over his skinny frame, he smiled.
“Okay, I kind of look the part.” He commented, flexing his skinny arm, “Almost.” He laughed, thinking how ridiculous he must’ve looked.
And as he turned away from the mirror, he felt a wave of vertigo wash over him. He stumbled forward, catching himself against a wall. Steve groaned and wiped some sweat from his forehead, trying to make sense of the sudden dizziness. But as quickly as it had come on, it had passed. And Steve awkwardly walked to the front door, each step feeling somewhat heavier and requiring more focus.
“Oh lil’ dude, you look great!” Garrett said, approaching him, “You’re more than ready for the beach.” He raised an eyebrow, “Ah wait, lil’ dude you forgot your shoes. Logan! Grab ‘em a pair from the trunk.”
Steve only nodded, not really paying all that much attention. His mind felt foggy, his body heavier. When Logan threw the pair of worn-out sandals at his feet, Steve just slid them on. They were clearly too large for him, but he didn’t have the mental bandwidth to make a comment.
“Lookin’ good on ya!” Garrett grinned, putting an arm around Steve’s shoulder and leading him to the car, “God, you reek, lil’ dude.”
Steve shook his head, “No... it’s... it’s the shorts.” He replied, “They smell...”
“Sure, sure lil’ dude.” Garrett chuckled.
Steve wanted to say something in response, but he felt a slight achiness in his feet. And when he looked down, he could have sworn that they looked bigger and now sporting tufts of hair. In that moment, Steve could’ve also sworn that his nostrils were being invaded by an increasingly intense odor- reminiscent of the locker room but somehow worse. Sour and musky, all at once.
“Alrighty lil’ dude, get in.” Garrett said, "Let's go!"
Steve could barely focus. The smells, the boisterous laughter, and the blaring laughter from the bros around him. He grimaced as a can of beer rolled around in the backseat, hitting his foot. He watched as Logan reached down and smirked, before shot gunning the can of beer while his bros cheered.
“Lil’ bro, why don’t you try one?” Garrett asked from the driver’s seat, “Pregame for me, since I’m drivin’ and shit.”
“I’m good.” Steve replied, clearing his throat. His voice sounded off, “I’m not feeling too...”
A beer was thrust against his skinny chest and he looked over at Logan, who had a wide grin on his face. Steve held the beer, staring at it closely. And with his meatier hands, cracked it open. Steve never drank- it wasn’t his thing. But as he cracked open the can, he felt compelled. He was gonna chug it. And as the bros cheered him on, Steve did just that. As he did, he couldn’t possibly realize the bulge in his shorts was growing. His member growing in size, going from a measly 5 centimeters to an astonishing 14 centimeters, a dense forest of pubes sprouting around his new member.
“Buuuuuuuurrrrrppppppppp.” Steve grinned slightly as he crushed the can in his hand as his bros cheered, “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Fuck yeah lil’ dude!” Garrett cheered from the front.
“That was sick bruh!” Logan playfully punched Steve’s arm.
Steve looked down at where Logan punched him and his eyes widened. His arms... his skinny arms... they looked bigger? More defined. Muscles Steve knew he had but never saw were suddenly becoming quite obvious to the naked eye. He looked up at Logan and then up to Garrett.
“Hey somethin’s...” Steve froze. That baritone voice couldn’t possibly be...
But no one paid him any attention. They were going on about the cheerleaders, although Steve noticed Garrett was oddly quiet during the conversation. Occasionally glancing at Steve through the mirror. Steve stirred uncomfortably as Garrett stole glances at him. Why did he keep looking at him? He blushed slightly, trying to appear smaller, but his growing pecs and widening frame made that difficult. He was taking up more space now, becoming uncomfortably close to Logan.
“Dude, can you...”
“Not my fault this car’s so fuckin’ small.” Steve’s eyes widened. He would never talk like that, “What the fuck?” The fogginess in his mind was starting to dissipate. He was becoming acutely aware of his newly massive frame, enlarging pecs, and arms that looked more like tree-trunks than sticks.
Garrett turned to look at him and smiled. "What's wrong bro? You look good.”
“I... don’t... fuckin’...” Steve groaned as his tank-top ripped and he tossed the ruined fabric into the trunk.
He grunted as his muscles pulsed again and again. His frame expanding larger and larger, while Logan just grinned, despite losing more room in the back of the car. Steve gasped as small blond hairs erupted from his massive arms and traveled up. And when they finished coating his massive forearms, the hair in his pits exploded into a dense, musky forest. He grimaced at the smell wafting from them, yet at time went on, the smell was becoming familiar. Somewhat nice actually. He brought his hands to his head as his head started pounding. And in the car’s mirror, he saw that his hair was becoming blond. His curly locks reshaping into a sporty cut. His face becoming sharp and defined, his lips puffing up and forming into a permanent smirk.
“Eric, bruh, you good?” Garrett asked.
Steve let out a baritone groan, “Nah bruh, who the fuck’s Eric?” He grabbed his head again, “That’s... not... my... name...”
As he made eye contact with Garrett, he could feel it. A set of memories. Gym sessions with Garrett. Going to sporting events. Playing videogames. Waking up in each other’s arms... tearing each other’s clothes off... fucking... Steve realized in that moment. Garrett and Eric. They were more than frat bros... they were... A small smile formed on Steve’s lips as he felt Eric’s personality and mind overtake his. And in that moment, he came. The climax so intense that he passed out in the back seat.
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“Took him long enough.” Logan chuckled, “You happy Garrett?”
Garrett nodded and parked the car, “Alright bros, give him some time to rest.” Garrett smiled at his sleeping boyfriend, “I’ll be right behind you all.”
As his bros started walking to the beach, Garrett opened backseat door and smiled at his hunk of a boyfriend. He ran a hand down his jaw and gave him a quick kiss, before grabbing his cum-soaked shorts.
“Was hoping you’d save that for me.” Garrett smirked, “But all good, bruh.” He kissed him on the cheek, before quietly shutting the door. He’d let Eric get some rest- besides, they had a long night ahead of them.
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magickizu · 10 days ago
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Phantom Contingency Plan
Crossover dp x dc, with hinted dead on main. So I've got this little time line I have in mind for my own crossover AU and this is a snippet of it. Will post more of it; might make a master post too at some point. For now, the prompt:
After something happened and the Phantom-Squad (Danny, Ellie, Dan and Jazz) had to reveal themselves to the batfam, Bruce calls up Danny and tells him, now that he thought about it and in the least offensive way possible: how likely is it for the Phan-Squad to "go rogue". Danny is silent, a thought filled, contemplating silence. "... I'll come by the cave tomorrow eve at 8pm."
P.s.: sorry if the batfam becomes too much ooc, I grew up a marvel-child and just recently became invested into dc. pwq
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"This is absolutely ridiculous, B!" Jason, in full Red Hood get up, was leaning against a support beam. He just can't sit right now. This idiot really just straight up decided to go and ask Danny for their weak points! Instead of going the normal route of collecting information, to expand the contingency plan alone- like it was supposed to be!
"As if any of them, who's very core is actively making them protect, save and help- literally!!- would just go against it and harm themselves with it." Why Hood was this adamant, about the Nightingales? Okay, yeah, maybe it does have something to do with him crushing on Danny, the moment he made the pits fall silent for the first time... But why the hell would he ever say that out loud!?
"It may be in their instinct, but you can never be sure what happens when that person breaks." Nightwing, who leaned on a nearby table. He talks calmly, but stern. His expression shows the hint of unease even he feels; the Nightingales have come to Gotham in an attempt to flee from someone. Someone who's set on hunting them down and hurting them, they're basically refugees. It doesn't seem 100% right, definitely. But the "what if"s are too big of a risk, none of them got any idea of what they're truly capable of.
"Bullshit..." Hood crosses his arms, looking away. His helmet is off, just the domino, so his muttering comes out as just that.
"Hood, please. Nightwing is right. As much as they want to help, you know it's for the best. Not even Constantine could think of something." Barbara sat next to Batman, as she turned to face the boys.
"Wait, what?? You can't be serious! Even Gandalf the Blond didn't know??" Nightwing looks at her incredulous. The redhead shook her head, but a slim smirk formed on her lips from the nickname.
"That doesn't excuse anything-" Hood got cut off by the notification that someone was coming in through the tunnel.
For the first time since the others came in, Batman moved from his seat at the batcomputer. He turned towards the tunnel entrance, where the roaring of a motorcycle can be heard. While Barbara and Nightwing seemed surprised, Hood could somehow, probably through his now healing core, sense it was Danny- which in turn just sent his head reeling a bit and his heart fluttering a little. Batman just checked the clock; the moment Danny brought his bike to a halt, next to Jason's, it was exactly 8:00pm, as promised. The ghost king really does keep his word, that's good to know.
Danny wasn't wearing any padding: no sturdy jeans, no leather jacket, just his usual get up and the black helmet with neon green accents. Crazy dangerous for a normal living person, but what could possibly happen? He's already dead, plus more sturdy anyway and untouchable when he wants to. Plus he's got the heightened reflexes, to use his abilities timely. ...which honestly just made his entrance, like- Wham!
Nightwing whistled impressed, "Damn dude, you're making little wing real competition, looking all cool and serious like that." He smiles, still impressed. Barbara just gave him a look that said, to keep his mind focused. In turn Nightwing answered with a look that asked, why it's only him and to look at Hood. Who in all fairness just was completely entranced by his crush looking extremely awesome, which made him incredibly hot. Well, at least until-
"Jay, stand back." Danny said, well... more like softly commanded, right as he took his helmet off, hanging it onto the handlebars. Said vigilanty did as he was told, without questioning. If it could harm Danny, it will harm him.
"Thank you, for not only your understanding, but your quick response, as well as trust to not misuse this. We really appreciate it." The Bat said in his low, serious tone. Danny nodded, giving him a similar facial expression.
"And thank you, for appreciating the afford." He grabbed two silver suitcases: one was flatter and the other looked more like a box. The moment he stepped closer to the table Nightwing was sitting on and where Hood was still standing, albeit a little off now, Hood became a little paler and suddenly feeling a bit weaker and uncomfortable. As if something underneath his skin began itching, somewhere inside. Danny's gaze shot towards him immediately, after setting them both down.
"You okay?" He asked, the concern visible in his eyes. The man's feet took him over towards Hood, the moment he was approximately 2 meters away, Danny shook and rubbed his arm. Probably to stop the same feeling Hood felt.
"I'm- ...yeah. I can handle, just uncomfortable." He chose to be honest, knowing, hearing and feeling the concern emanating from his core. But he nods, then stands himself next to the taller man.
Meanwhile Batman, Barbara and Nightwing stood themselves around the table in a half circle around the suitcases.
"The thicker case is filled with blood blossoms. Do not open that one, unless it's happening. These flowers have anti-spectral properties, they not only harm us, can occasionally break haunts and ghostly curses, they can and will kill ghosts and ghost-adjacent beings through exposure alone. Especially in that quantity." He begins to explain and Jason shifts slightly, shuffling one step away, trying not to make it obvious. Nightwing and Barbara look on in shock, even Batman has to take a deep breath.
"But aren't they just a fairytale? Constantine had mentioned them, but also said that they come from old folklore. Medieval times, when Christianity wasn't even that known. And aren't they supposed to have anti-supernatural properties?" Barbara questioned and it's true. John told Batman about them, but added that he didn't exactly know if it wasn't just some old folklore and not to put his bets on it. He knew of the infinite realms, sure. But Ghosts explicitly? Not that much..
Danny nodded. "They are as old as humanity and they have been used in countless traps and banishment rituals. It's just that..." He grabs his neck, thinking of which words to use and letting his usual self finally slip through. He's been practicing explaining things, this definitely put it to the test. "Hmmm... Okay, uhm... It was said that they have anti-supernatural properties, because quite a few ghosts were mistaken as other supernatural creatures. For example... Yetis!" He snapped his fingers, smiling proudly to himself, that he came up with it that fast.
"Yetis...?" Nightwing asked completely flabbergasted. "Pfff... Bigfoot also a ghost? Ow-" He couldn't help himself, but got a slap on his arm from Barbs, who glarred daggers at him.
"Yes and no, Bigfoot is actually a spirit of sorts, but not really. He just wants to be left alone, man. And yes, Yetis. They are ghosts of the far frozen and spirits of ice, the cold and healing. Because they're technically ghosts, they'd be affected, but they don't exactly look like your conventional, stereotypical ghost. So people just forgot about them due to monotheistic religions, because instead of blaming vengeful, violent and malevolent spirits, they became demons. Which lasted not that long after exorcisms and prayers became a thing." Danny explained.
"I see... So that's why Constantine didn't know for sure." Batman nodded. Hood got a stool and sat down a little further away- was this what kryptonite felt like to the supers? He made a mental note to never tease them about it again... In the back of his mind and in his chest, he can hear- no... Sense a chirping. It's Danny sensing Hood's tense unease. The smaller ones core calling out, //it's okay//will protect//save//. It did help a bit though and Hood's grateful for that.
"And this one?" Nightwing pointed at the slimmer suitcase, intrigued now.
"Those are regular ecto-blasters. They just shoot ecto infused lasers- completely harmless to anything living. The only thing it does is to inconvenience or harm a ghost, but they're mostly non-lethal." Batman nodded again, opening the case and inspecting the guns. "If you need more, just say so. I used to use them constantly, so I still got quite a few on the shelf." He crosses his arms, for comfort. But Hood's attention was drawn more to the 'used to use them'. Danny wheelded harmful 'mostly non-lethal' weapons for a while, so that also implies that he knows how to turn them lethal... Why?
"If that is possible, I would be most grateful." Batman said, holding eye contact with Danny, who in turn nodded.
"I'll drop them off tomorrow, then. You'll need to recharge them with both electricity and ectoplasm. Don't ever let them run low, tho or it will back fire on you. Not pretty. When you aim to stun: hit wherever besides the chest, it regenerates. But when you aim to harm and injure: aim for the core. It's, you guessed it, in the middle of the chest. Even if ghosts can regenerate, just empty the thing and keep firing; the amount of ecto we lose, is too much to heal against. Especially because we need said ecto to heal in the first place. And don't be surprised: ghosts melt. We don't turn to ashes, get sucked away to who knows. We melt into ecto." Danny answered almost immediately, stunning the birds and Oracle. But the bat only nodded, containing his own curiosity, as he closed the case and readied them to carry away.
- - - - -
"Danny! Talk?" He turns his head towards Hood; both sit on their bikes, standing next to each other. The traffic light glowing red, when the taller man calls. Then after a few seconds of silence, Danny looks around and motions for Hood to follow.
After some more explanations in the cave, on how to most effectively use each weapon and tool against his very own life and leaving the two birds as well as Oracle stunned silent, Hood decided to ride along. Since he has to go in that direction anyway, might as well ride with Danny and spend more time. As the light turns green, Danny nods and leads the way. After another 10-15 minutes of silent driving they get to a quiet viewpoint in a more abandoned area of the neighborhood. They come to a halt and the taller is the first to speak,
"Just... Just out of curiosity. How come or well, why were you so, I wouldn't say eager but, so... fast to respond? Not even the League members reacted this... How to put it, ready? Collected? Hell knows, they didn't nerd out about their weaknesses. So-"
"Jay, tell me: how much do you trust yourself?" The smaller man takes off his helmet and hangs it up on the handlebars again. Hood sighs and does similar, leaving only his domino mask on, as he leans against the railing, next to his king. He shrugs.
"I guess... talking about confidence in my skills and how to use them? Yes. Yes, I do." But the electric blues only look over the city skylines, he nods.
"No, I mean in yourself." So naturally Jayson's breath hitches, when these eyes suddenly stared into his. "Your ability to control your emotions, when the worst happens and push comes to shove." He takes a deep breath, his gaze flicking from the other up to the sky. Surprisingly it's a clear view of the stars. And again Jason decides that a) this man has so many more secrets, than he already thought and b) it just adds to his enchanting mystique and liminal beauty. Oh damn, he fell hard and deep.
"I mean... The pit-rages stopped, when we began training, but..." That's when realisation hit him. "...I don't know. No."
"...and I do know, that I won't." Jason looks at Danny almost immediately. His small, growing and healing core rumbling with //confused//what?//. Danny sighs heavily: "the last time it happened, I developed new powers again and apparently declared war to the conspiratorial wing of the government, leaving nothing but death, destruction and a crater the size of Wayne Manor's property line behind. I wasn't even at full health. I've also seen what happens, when I let my anger win and that was from a point where I was about 10 years weaker than I am today. It was a wasteland of a world, didn't even see the justice league there, so..." Danny's hands slip from the railing to hug himself, Jason just stares stunned and in shock, trying to buffer the words and sounds the other one makes. Said one smiles weakly his gaze never leaves the stars, as if they're giving him some form of comfort or answers only he can read. "...emotions are more than natural for ghosts, we're literally made by them. The will to survive, the need to protect and help or ... The boiling rage to avenge." He finally gave Jason a small glance and encouraging smile. "Really it's only natural. But that's also why I'm so hellbend on teaching you to control yourself. The more your core heals,..." He reaches out touching Jason's chest and his heart skips a beat. Gods he hopes the other doesn't notice, but he doesn't react so that's good? "The more you will feel and the harder it becomes to regulate. But... I got the feeling, you'll manage." He smiles and pats Jason's chest, then he turns back to the stars. His smile slowly fading. "...but if things happen, that'll make me lose it for good? I'd prefer to be taken out clean before another 'reign of terror' Happens."
They're silent, Jason has to process what he just heard. Danny more so as it still looks like he's listening to the stars sing, however that's possible. But hey, that's the Nightingale's ever since they showed up: anything but normal. The bigger one finally huffs, "So... You're really a big f*cking fish, huh... Your siblings that powerful too?" The other shrugs, yes and no. "Damn... Well, I definitely hope that it'll never happen. ...would absolutely suck to lose you." He glances at the other, just barely to try and get a sneak peak at him. But Danny just smiles softly, eyes closed. That's when Jason can sense the chirping from Danny's core again, //appreciate//you too//love//.
...wait. Wait, hold on!-
"Welp, was nice but I gotta go now. Jazz is probably done with dinner by now and they're waiting for me." The smaller turns to walk towards his bike, patting Jason on the shoulder and back again. "I'll see around, Red Guy. You know where to find me." He winks cheeky and puts on his helmet and like a phantom into the night, is gone. Jason still stands there...
Did he... Did he really just understand... Love? No, wait again! Danny and his siblings too always say, that ghosts are very sensitive to emotions and can read them off of- ...
...did Danny knew from the very beginning...?
413 notes · View notes
meltinglatte · 3 months ago
Text
Bestfriend's Sister
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Pairing : Mingyu × afab reader
Synopsis : in which mingyu has a crush on his best friend's sister but is too scared to ask her out ;)
Genre : short story, smut
Warnings : size k!nk, creampie, boob play, drinking, masturbat!on
[ New author, so if there are any mistakes let me know, will try to improve ]
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Chapter 1 : Meeting you again
Mingyu sat at his desk, the glow of his laptop illuminating the darkened dorm room. His notes sprawled chaotically across the table, mirroring the chaos in his mind. College life wasn't the smooth path everyone had promised.
"Just get into SNU," they said.
"Life will be set." Those words now felt like a cruel joke.
Surrounded by prodigies and overachievers, he often wondered if he truly belonged. Balancing academics, friendships, and the rare moments of self-care had become an exhausting juggling act.
And just when he thought it couldn't get more complicated, fate threw him a curveball.
At the 2024 fresher's party, amidst the crowd of enthusiastic new faces, his heart froze. There she was—his crush. The girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart years ago now stood a few feet away, laughing effortlessly with a group of freshmen. Mingyu's pulse quickened as a wave of disbelief washed over him.
"What is she doing here?" he muttered under his breath. For years, he'd assumed she would follow her brother's footsteps and study abroad. Her brother—his best friend—had often talked about how their family prioritized prestigious overseas education. Seeing her here, in his university, was the last thing Mingyu expected. It wasn't just her presence that threw him off. It was the tangled web of emotions that came with it.
Mingyu had long accepted that his feelings for her were off-limits. She wasn't just any girl; she was his best friend's sister. And if there was one unspoken rule in his life, it was this: never break the bro code.
He could already hear his friend's voice in his head, joking yet firm: "You even think about my sister, and I'll kill you, dude." It wasn't an actual threat—probably—but Mingyu had never dared to test it. Yet, seeing her now, radiant and completely unaware of the storm she'd just stirred in his heart, made things infinitely harder. As the evening wore on, he tried to act normal. To blend into the crowd. But his eyes kept drifting back to her. She looked different—not the high schooler he remembered but someone more confident, more vibrant. 
"Why now? Why here?" he thought. Life was already overwhelming, and now he had to deal with this? But deep down, he knew the truth. He wasn't mad because she was here. He was mad because, for the first time, he couldn't ignore the possibility of something more. And that scared him more than failing his next midterm.
"Eoh? Mingyu oppa?" Sera's voice broke through the noise of the crowded room. Her eyes lit up as she smiled at him, her face the perfect blend of surprise and warmth.
"It's been so long, right?" Mingyu froze for a moment, caught off guard by how effortlessly she drew his attention. Rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous habit he couldn't seem to shake—he managed a coy smile.
"Yeah, it has," he replied, his voice quieter than he intended. A brief silence settled between them, the kind that felt heavier than it should. Mingyu scrambled for something to say, anything to fill the growing gap. "Congrats," he finally offered, his tone sincere. "Getting into SNU's med school isn't easy. You must've worked really hard."
"Thank you, oppa." Sera's smile widened, her cheeks slightly tinged with pink.
Before either of them could say more, a loud voice cut through the moment. "SERA-YAH!" Her friends were calling from the other side of the party, their laughter and energy adding to the lively chaos of the party. Sera glanced over her shoulder before turning back to Mingyu.
"I think they're waiting for you," Mingyu said, his tone gentle but his expression unreadable. She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to stay or go. "You're right. I'll see you later, oppa," she said with a small nod before heading toward her friends.
Mingyu watched her retreating figure, her laughter blending into the noise of the party. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, the familiar ache in his chest returning.
------------------
Some weeks later
"Bro, let's win this game," Joo Hyuk said, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder, his eyes brimming with determination.
"Yeah, let's do this!" Mingyu replied, his voice full of energy as he tightened his shoelaces and jogged onto the field.
The match between SNU's engineering department and the medicine department had drawn a sizable crowd, the atmosphere electric with cheers and chants. From the whistle's blow, it was clear this wasn't going to be an easy game. Both teams played fiercely, each pass and tackle charged with adrenaline.
It was neck-and-neck, the score tied until the final moments. Then, with a perfectly timed pass from Joo Hyuk, Mingyu seized the opportunity. With a sharp kick, the ball soared past the goalkeeper and into the net.
The engineering department erupted into cheers, their players rushing to huddle around Mingyu, who was grinning ear to ear. "We did it!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of celebration.
On the sidelines, Sera watched the scene unfold with a smile. The medicine department's supporters were quieter now, some already drifting toward the exit. She turned to her friends and laughed lightly, saying, "I guess we'll have to cheer a lot louder for our medicine department next time."
Mingyu, still catching his breath, heard her words over the noise. He glanced toward her, his grin softening. Her laugh, her effortless charm.
It wasn't the words that caught him off guard but her outfit — her cheerleading outfit. 
The way the uniform fit her, or how the vibrant red skirt clung to her thighs, drawing his eyes in an almost magnetic pull. It was the sheer presence she exuded from across the field that captivated him.
Mingyu had always been aware of her beauty, under the stadium lights, she was a vision that sent a rush of heat through him. Every leap, every sway of her hips was a siren call, pulling him in deeper despite the distance.
He gulped hard, trying to focus on the other celebrating their victory, but distraction had a way of creeping in when least expected. Mingyu felt an undeniable pressure building within him, an urgency that demanded his attention. "Oh shit, not now," he muttered under his breath, realizing he couldn't ignore the undeniable reaction his body was having any longer. The heat radiating from his cheeks was felt in more than just his face.
He excused himself, the camaraderie of his teammates drowning in the chaos of his thoughts as he slipped away towards the washroom. Once inside, he swiftly closed the door behind him, locking it with an almost desperate urgency. The small space was eerily quiet, but in the stillness, the rush of blood in his ears was deafening.
With shaky hands, he fumbled with his pants, feeling the strain of his arousal pressing tightly against the fabric. The image of Sera in that unforgettable outfit - the way it hugged her curves, the glimpses of her pale skin - played behind his eyelids. It was intoxicating, igniting a fire within him that was impossible to suppress.
As he freed himself, his breath quickened, the need to release the tension almost overwhelming. He thought of her laughter, the way she sparkled with energy, and the sight of her moving gracefully with each cheer. Each thought sent shivers through him, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace.
Mingyu leaned against the cool tiles of the wall, consumed by the moment, lost in his mind as the outside world faded away. In that tiny sanctuary, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, letting the image of Sera dance across his thoughts, a vibrant whirl of red and gold that pushed him closer to the edge.
Chapter 2 : Pride First
Mingyu stepped out of the washroom, his face flushed, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He ran a hand through his damp hair, avoiding Joo Hyuk's gaze as he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed.
Joo Hyuk shot him a side-eye, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Seriously, dude? GET SOME PUSSY MAN," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I didn't come to the washroom to hear my roommate release himself in the university washroom," Joo Hyuk continued. 
"Sorry", Mingyu mumbled, his ears burning as he hurriedly brushed past Joo Hyuk.
Behind him, Joo Hyuk shook his head, muttering to himself, "This guy... hopeless.". 
-----------------------------
Two weeks had passed since that day, and Mingyu had made it his mission to avoid Sera. He steered clear of the med department entirely, choosing routes and spots where he knew he wouldn't run into her. It wasn't easy, but he convinced himself it was necessary.
That afternoon, he sat in the bustling campus canteen, savoring his boba and relishing a rare moment of peace. The sweet tapioca pearls were a small comfort in an otherwise chaotic schedule.
But peace was fleeting.
"Mingyu oppa!"
Her voice rang out, bright and unmistakable. His heart sank as he looked up to see Sera rushing toward him, her long hair flowing behind her, her smile as radiant as ever.
Mingyu forced a small, polite smile, his grip tightening on his drink. "Oh, hey, Sera."
"This weekend, can I go home with you?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes hopeful. "My mom sent something for your mom, and she told me to give it to her directly."
Mingyu hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He scratched the back of his head, trying to buy himself a second to think. "Oh, um, sorry, but I'm not going home this weekend," he said, his voice as nonchalant as he could manage.
Sera tilted her head, her expression puzzled. "Huh? But you go home every weekend," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Yeah, I know," he replied, quickly averting his gaze. "But I've got this big project to work on. You can go without me, though."
Her smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, nodding. "Oh, okay. I see."
Before she could say anything more, Mingyu stood, grabbing his cup. "I've got to get going. I'll see you around, Sera," he said hurriedly and walked off, leaving her standing there. 
----------------------
That weekend, Sera found herself standing in front of the Kim family's home. She rang the doorbell, clutching the small package her mother had given her. Moments later, the door swung open.
"What took you so long?" came a familiar voice, half-scolding, half-teasing. Mingyu's mother stood in the doorway, her expression softening the instant she saw Sera. "Oh, it's you, Sera! I thought it was Mingyu."
Sera offered a polite bow and a small smile. "Hello, auntie. Sorry to drop by unannounced."
"Nonsense! Come in, come in," Mrs. Kim said warmly, stepping aside to let her in. "It's always a pleasure to see you."
Once inside, the comforting scent of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Mrs. Kim led Sera to the living room, gesturing for her to sit. "Honey!" she called out toward the garden. "Look who's here!"
Mr. Kim emerged a moment later, wiping his hands on a towel. His face lit up when he saw her. "Ah, Sera! What a nice surprise. Come, have a seat," he said, pulling out a chair for her.
Sera couldn't help but smile at their warmth. "Thank you, uncle. I came to drop something off from my mom," she explained, holding up the package.
"What is it?" Mrs. Kim asked, curiosity flickering in her eyes as she watched Sera carefully unwrap the package.
As the final layer of wrapping came off, Mr. Kim leaned in for a better look. "Omo!" She exclaimed, her tone filled with surprise and admiration.
Inside lay a pristine, carefully preserved 30-year-old ginseng root, its rich golden hue a testament to its value.
"Mom heard that you weren't feeling well recently," Sera explained with a soft smile. "She said this 30-year-old ginseng would be perfect for you and insisted I bring it over."
Mrs. Kim's hand flew to her chest, her eyes widening. "Omo, Sera! This is so expensive. You didn't have to go through all this trouble!"
"Please, just take it," Sera said, her tone gentle but firm. "Mom would be upset if you didn't."
Mrs. Kim glanced at her husband, who nodded approvingly, a proud smile playing on his lips. "Your family is always so thoughtful," Mrs. Kim said, her voice tinged with gratitude. "Thank you, Sera. This means so much to me."
"Of course, auntie," Sera replied. "Mom said your health is more important than anything."
Mr. Kim chuckled warmly. "Looks like your mom has great timing. This will definitely help her feel better."
Mrs. Kim placed the ginseng back into its wrapping with care, her expression softening. "You must stay for dinner, Sera. I won't take no for an answer."
Sera laughed lightly and nodded, her heart warmed by the sincerity of their gratitude.
"I don't understand why Mingyu didn't come home," Mrs. Kim said, her brows knitted as she placed another dish on the dinner table. "He told me just last Monday that he'd be coming back to pick up some important things."
She sighed, her frustration evident. "He should have at least given us a call," she added, shaking her head.
Sera, seated across from them, glanced up from her plate. "Oppa said he had a project to work on," she said casually between bites, trying to downplay the situation.
"Project?" Mr. Kim interjected, his fork pausing mid-air. "What project? He told me just last week that he was finally free because his project was done." He frowned thoughtfully. "Did the professors give him another one so soon?"
Mrs. Kim crossed her arms, her expression softening into mild concern. "Something doesn't add up. He's usually so responsible about keeping us informed."
Sera's thoughts clouded as she processed the conversation. Mingyu was avoiding her—she knew that much—but to go to such lengths to steer clear of her? That realization hit harder than she expected.
She forced herself to finish dinner quickly, the food tasting bland against the turmoil in her mind.
"It would've been nice if you stayed the night," Mrs. Kim said warmly as Sera got up to leave.
"Next time, Auntie," Sera replied with a polite smile, bowing deeply before stepping out of the house.
The moment she was outside, the weight of her thoughts bore down on her. "Does he really hate spending time with his best friend's little sister this much? Am I... that embarrassing?"
"Fine," Sera muttered under her breath, clenching her fists as she walked to the bus stop. "If I'm that embarrassing, then I'll avoid him too. I'm Jeon Sera, after all."
Her voice carried a defiant edge, as if saying it aloud would make her resolve stronger. She straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to hold her head high as the bus pulled up.
The ride back to the college dorms was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional chatter of other passengers. Sera stared out the window, the city lights blurring past her.
"If he doesn't want to see me, then so be it," she thought, though a small pang of hurt lingered in her chest. "I've got my pride too."
Chapter 3 : Make Him Jealous
Three weeks had passed since Mingyu last saw Sera. At first, when he was avoiding her, he'd still catch glimpses of her around campus—a fleeting silhouette in the crowd, her laughter echoing in the distance. But now, it was as if she had vanished into thin air.
Not once did he see her near the library, the canteen, or even the med department corridors.
Mingyu adjusted his bag on his shoulder, glancing around the campus grounds as he walked to class. The familiar buzz of students chatting and rushing past him felt oddly hollow. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away.
"I guess it's for the best," he muttered under his breath, his words lacking the conviction he wanted them to carry.
"Bro, wanna party after class?" Joo Hyuk leaned over, grinning as he nudged Mingyu.
"Nah, I'm fine," Mingyu replied, shaking his head.
"Come on, man," Joo Hyuk pressed, but before he could push further, the professor entered the room, silencing the chatter. Mingyu turned his attention to the front, zoning in on whatever physics the professor was explaining.
When the bell rang, signaling a break, Joo Hyuk was already on his feet. "Oh, finally a break! Come on, let's roam around the campus."
"It's just 15 minutes," Mingyu argued, opening his book. "What's the point of going out?"
Joo Hyuk rolled his eyes. "I'm not hearing all that." Without waiting for another word, he grabbed Mingyu's arm and dragged him out of the classroom.
"Damn, it's sunny," Joo Hyuk groaned, shielding his eyes as they walked toward the canteen. Once inside, he headed straight for the cashier. "Two iced Americanos, please."
While Joo Hyuk waited, Mingyu wandered near the seating area, his eyes scanning the room. He paused mid-step when he saw her. Sera.
"Oppa?" Her familiar voice rang out, accompanied by a bright smile as she moved in his direction. Mingyu froze, his heart skipping a beat.
But just as quickly, reality hit him. Sera walked past him without a second glance. Mingyu blinked, confused, and turned around to see her approaching someone else—a tall guy standing behind him.
"Oppa, can I borrow your biochemistry notes?" Sera asked the tall guy, her tone warm and friendly.
"Sure," the guy, Sera's senior, Jin Sun Ho, replied with a casual smile. "But, Sera, I'm afraid you won't be able to read my handwriting. How about I help you with them in the library?"
Sera laughed lightly. "That sounds great, thanks!" The two walked out of the canteen together, chatting as they left.
Mingyu was still staring after them when Joo Hyuk returned, handing him an iced Americano. "Woah," Joo Hyuk said, watching the pair disappear through the door. "Looks like the med school god and goddess are finally hitting it off."
"What do you mean?" Mingyu asked, his voice unintentionally sharp.
Joo Hyuk raised an eyebrow. "Do you live under a rock? Jin Sun Ho is the med school's god—smart, handsome, and rich. And Sera? She's the goddess. Pretty, brilliant, and, well, rich. Everyone's been saying they'd make the perfect couple."
He sipped his drink, oblivious to the way Mingyu's grip tightened on his cup. Mingyu said nothing, his eyes lingering on the door where Sera and Jin Sun Ho had just left. 
--------------------
"Your handwriting isn't that bad, oppa," Sera said with a small smile as she diligently copied down the notes. Her pen moved swiftly across the page while Sun Ho leaned slightly closer, pointing out key terms and concepts.
Sun Ho chuckled softly, resting his chin in his hand as he watched her work. "Maybe you just have extraordinary deciphering skills," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Most people look at my notes and call them hieroglyphics.
Sera laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Well, I guess I have a knack for cracking your code," she replied, glancing up at him briefly before focusing back on the page.
"Or maybe you're just too kind to admit how terrible my handwriting actually is," Sun Ho quipped with a grin, tapping the edge of the notebook.
Sera shook her head, her lips curving into a soft smile. "No, really. It's not bad at all. And your explanations make everything so much clearer," she said earnestly, her brown eyes meeting his.
For a moment, Sun Ho's teasing demeanor softened. "Glad I can help," he said, his tone warm. "Not everyone would put up with my chicken scratch."
"Well, I'm not just anyone," Sera said with a playful shrug, her confidence shining through as she continued writing.
"How about a selfie?" Sun Ho asked suddenly, pulling out his phone with a playful grin.
Sera looked up from the notebook, a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face. "In the library?" she whispered, stifling a giggle.
Sun Ho leaned in closer, angling the camera to fit both of them in the frame. "Relax," he said with a smirk. "No one's going to say a word to me." Without waiting for her response, he snapped the photo, capturing Sera mid-laugh.
"Sun Ho!" she scolded lightly, though her smile betrayed her amusement.
He examined the picture with a satisfied nod. "Perfect. My followers are going to love this," he said as he began typing a caption.
"You're posting it?" Sera's eyes widened in mild disbelief.
"Of course," he replied, his tone casual as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Why wouldn't I?"
Sera shook her head, unable to suppress a laugh as she returned to her notes. Moments later, Sun Ho's phone buzzed with likes and comments flooding in, his followers reacting to the unexpected post.
On the screen was the caption: "Study buddies" .
Chapter 4 : Drunk Mingyu
"Woah, check this out," Joohyuk said, grinning as he waved his phone in front of Mingyu after their last class of the day.
Mingyu glanced down at the screen, his eyes narrowing as he saw the Instagram photo of Sera and Sun Ho standing side by side, their smiles bright and carefree. A strange feeling twisted in his chest—something between envy and frustration—but he masked it with a shrug, trying not to let it show.
"Since when did you become so invested in other people's business, huh, Joohyuk?" Mingyu asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to keep his voice casual.
Joohyuk chuckled, unfazed by Mingyu's tone. "Oh, come on, man. You need a little gossip to survive the madness that is SNU," he said, tapping his phone's screen. "Everyone's talking about this picture. It's like the campus's new hottest trend."
Mingyu rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't have the time for that kind of stuff."
"Right, of course," Joohyuk replied, his grin widening. "You're too busy being the mysterious guy who doesn't care about anything except his grades." He nudged Mingyu playfully.
Mingyu shrugged again, trying to brush off the weird fluttering in his stomach. "Just don't get too wrapped up in it, alright? We've got our own lives to focus on."
"Sure, sure," Joohyuk replied with a wink. "But you know, it's always more fun to watch the drama unfold from the sidelines." 
Joohyuk leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Alright, enough of this. Come with me to the club and let loose for once."
Mingyu hesitated, glancing at his outfit. "Like this? My clothes are too plain, I need to change." He tried to muster an excuse, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
Joohyuk rolled his eyes, his expression turning playful but firm. "I'm not hearing any of that, man. I know you'll find a thousand reasons to back out and never show up. We're going, and we're going now."
Mingyu opened his mouth to protest, but Joohyuk was already dragging him toward the door, his grip surprisingly strong. "You're coming with me, no more excuses. Tonight's about fun, not studying."
Mingyu sighed but couldn't help the reluctant grin that crept across his face. "Fine, fine," he muttered. "But you owe me a drink for this."
Joohyuk flashed a victorious smile. "Deal." 
The neon lights of the club flickered around them as Mingyu and Joohyuk settled into their seats, the music pulsating through the air. Mingyu was already deep in his drinks, the bitter taste of alcohol doing little to numb the ache in his chest. He stared into his glass, his heart heavy, thoughts swirling around Sera and the distance between them that felt impossible to bridge.
Joohyuk, ever the party animal, raised his eyebrows as Mingyu downed another drink in one go. "Ayo, man, slow down," Joohyuk said, his voice slightly slurred. "We have class tomorrow. You're gonna regret this."
Mingyu looked at his friend, a wry smile twisting on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What's the point of this life if I can't be with her?" he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. He didn't care that he was starting to sound like a mess—he was already too far gone.
Joohyuk blinked, suddenly aware of the shift in Mingyu's mood. "Oh, no, not here," he groaned, slapping his palm against the table. "I brought you here to have fun, not cry over some girl you can't get over. This night is supposed to be fun, man!"
But Mingyu wasn't listening. He tipped his head back, gulping down another drink, his emotions taking over in a drunken haze. "Is there any way to make her like me?" he slurred, his eyes glassy. "I can't stand seeing her with someone else... I just... I just want her to be mine."
Joohyuk let out a low whistle. "It's kinda hard to believe that you, with that handsome face of yours, can't get a girl," he teased, leaning back in his chair, his buzz starting to kick in.
Mingyu's face crumpled again, and Joohyuk frowned, his tone shifting to concern. "Who is she? The girl that's got you all twisted up like this?"
Mingyu's words came out in a jumbled mess, and soon enough, his eyes were glistening with tears, the alcohol fueling his emotions further. "You remember my best friend... the one who studies abroad?" he began, voice cracking. "She's his..."
Joohyuk froze for a moment, eyes wide as he processed the situation. "His girlfriend?" he asked in disbelief, his lips curling into a half-smile. "Bro, you gotta be kidding me. Out of all the girls in the world, you fall for your homie's girl?"
"NO, NO!" Mingyu shot back, waving his hand in a frantic motion as his emotions overtook him again. "She's not his girlfriend!" he repeated, his voice breaking.
Joohyuk blinked. "Then what's the problem, man? If she's not with him, what's stopping you?"
Mingyu's face crumpled in despair, his voice almost a whisper as he stumbled over the words. "She... she's his sister," he confessed, his drunken state making it feel even more tragic. He pulled Joohyuk into a tight hug, his body shaking with the weight of his emotions. "I don't know what to do, man. I can't... I can't have her, but I can't stop wanting her."
Joohyuk sat there, stunned for a moment. He didn't know how to respond, his mind processing the ridiculousness of the situation. "Bro," he finally said, a slight chuckle escaping him. "You're... you're really in love with your best friend's sister? That's the problem?"
Mingyu sobbed a little more, the alcohol making everything feel more intense than it probably was. "I know, I know," he said, his voice muffled in Joohyuk's shoulder. "It's messed up. I just... I just can't stop thinking about her."
Joohyuk shook his head in disbelief. 
Joo Hyuk, with a mischievous grin, urged Mingyu to let loose and find some companionship for the night. He grabbed the alcohol glass from Mingyu's hand, downing the remaining contents in one swift motion. "Come on, forget everything and let's hit the dance floor," Joo Hyuk said, leading the way.
Mingyu followed, his mind still hazy from the alcohol. As they stepped onto the dance floor, the pulsating beat of the music consumed them. Mingyu felt the weight of his worries melt away with each step.
Before long, Joo Hyuk had already found a companion for the night, disappearing to the other side of the club with a sly wink. Mingyu, on the other hand, was approached by a stranger.
"Hey, aren't you Mingyu Sunbae from the engineering department?" the girl asked, her voice like a melody.
Mingyu looked at her and nodded. "Nice to meet you, I'm Seyeong from the medicine department," she introduced herself, flashing a bright smile.
Before Mingyu could respond, Seyeong had already moved closer, her body swaying in time with the music. She placed her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer until their chests were touching. Mingyu was taken aback, but the alcohol coursed through his veins, numbing his senses.
Seyeong's movements were fluid, like a dance. She pressed her cleavage against his chest, making it a full display of her assets. Mingyu's mind was consumed with thoughts of Sera. In his alcohol-infused haze, he couldn't help but think that Seyeong was Sera, sent to him as an answer to his prayers.
"Want to get a room?" Seyeong whispered in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. 
Mingyu's vision swam in a hazy blur, the flashing lights of the club illuminating the space around him. His mind felt foggy, and the alcohol had wrapped him in a warm cocoon of numbness. But then, his eyes caught something—or rather, someone. At the entrance of the club, standing like a figure from a dream, was her.
"Sera?" Mingyu mumbled to himself, blinking rapidly as if doing so would somehow snap him out of his daze and make everything clearer. He squinted, the familiar silhouette in front of him. He stumbled back slightly, his voice slurring as he spoke louder than he intended. "TWO TWO SERA?"
The girl in front of him, who had been dancing with him just moments before, followed his gaze, confusion painting her face as she turned her head toward the entrance. She froze for a second, processing what he said, before her own realization hit her.
"Sera?" she echoed, her voice laced with disbelief as her eyes locked on the girl Mingyu was referring to.
Mingyu, still drunk and caught in the throes of his mixed-up emotions, looked between the two—Sera at the entrance and the Sera in his arms. "Wait... no way, how come there are two Seras," he muttered under his breath.
The music seemed to throb louder in his ears as he fumbled to make sense of the situation. Seyeong's expression shifted from confusion to mild irritation, her eyes narrowing as she took a step back from him.
"Did you seriously think I was Sera this whole time?" Seyeong's voice was sharp, tinged with disbelief. She crossed her arms over her chest, her face now set in an indignant frown. "What a jerk."
Before Mingyu could say another word, she pushed him lightly but firmly away from her, the force of the motion knocking him off balance for a moment.
Seyeong shook her head, her disappointment evident, and with a final glance at Mingyu, she turned and walked off into the crowd, leaving him standing there, still trying to piece everything together.
Chapter 4 : Confrontation
As the adrenaline faded away, he found himself seeking a way out, desperate to escape the turmoil of his thoughts.
"How long are you going to keep yourself away from me?" Sera's voice sliced through the noise, confident and unwavering. Mingyu, taken aback, feigned ignorance. "I don't understand what you're talking about," he responded, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
Without hesitation, Sera moved closer, closing the space between them. Her hand reached for his, holding it firmly as if refusing to let him slip away. "You can drop the act now, oppa," she insisted. The tone in her voice was resolute, a stark contrast to Mingyu's hesitant demeanor.
"I heard it all," she leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. His heart raced as she held onto his neck, standing on her tiptoes to bring her face near his. Her proximity was intoxicating, yet troubling.
"You are Jeonwoo's sister. I can't—" Mingyu tried to back away, but Sera was relentless. She cut him off, sealing her defiance with a kiss on his cheek, a playful yet poignant gesture that sent a thrill through him. Mingyu's heart sank and soared all at once as he finally met her gaze.
"Okay, then I will go to Sunho Oppa," she teased, her demeanor flipping from assertive to mischievous in an instant as she turned to walk away. The implication of her words hit Mingyu like a freight train. His grip instinctively tightened around her wrist, pulling her back to him.
"Please, Sera," he pleaded, his expression shifting to one that could only be described as puppy-like, eyes wide with a mix of desperation and longing. The playful banter began melting away, leaving behind the raw emotion that had bubbled just beneath the surface. 
"Then tell me," Sera said suddenly, her voice soft yet filled with an urgency that made Mingyu's heart race. In that moment, he felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
Mingyu looked deeper into her eyes, a vibrant mix of curiosity and vulnerability reflecting back at him. It felt as if time had come to a standstill; the noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of fleeting possibility. A sudden wave of courage surged through him, igniting a fire within that he had kept at bay for far too long. Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
The kiss was electric—a culmination of longing and love, a blending of dreams that had been waiting for this moment to manifest. Their lips brushed against each other with a tender urgency, savoring every fleeting second, as if trying to grasp a moment that could slip away at any instant. In that enchantment, everything else ceased to exist, and all they could feel was each other.
"I like you," Mingyu confessed, his breath mingling with hers in between kisses, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid feelings. The revelation hung in the air, both exhilarating and terrifying, yet it felt right.
Sera pulled back for just a moment, her eyes sparkling with surprise and delight. "We can continue at the hotel room," she said, a playful smile curling her lips.
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The hotel room door creaked open, the sound amplifying the electric atmosphere that buzzed between Mingyu and Sera. As they crossed the threshold, their lips met in a fervent kiss that seemed to encapsulate the world outside—one that held no constraints or responsibilities. Nothing else existed in that moment but the two of them, lost in each other's embrace.
With a swift kick, Mingyu nudged the door shut, intent on carving out a little world where only they mattered. He traced Sera's delicate figure with admiration, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. The nearby table became their temporary sanctuary as he gently set her down, still locked in a passionate kiss. "You are too short; my neck hurts," he murmured playfully, yet his eyes spoke of hunger, desire.
Sera, feeling emboldened, wrapped her legs around his waist, a teasing move that brought their bodies even closer. The heat between them ignited as Mingyu's hands found their way to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off to reveal his toned physique. To him, she was petite and enchanting, every curve inviting exploration.
Their lips collided once more, becoming lost in the rhythm of soft sighs and heated breaths. Mingyu's hands, skilled yet gentle, began to undress Sera, each layer he shed revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her form. As he unclasped her bra, he feasted his eyes on her plump breasts, a sight that made his heart race with insatiable desire.
Mingyu leaned down, his mouth enveloping her soft skin, a rush of adrenaline coursing through him as he lavished her with attention. His hands wandered, finding their way to her clit through her clothing, caressing her softly. Sera responded with soft moans, a sound he felt in the depths of his being, urging him on.
As passion thickened the air, Mingyu's urgency grew. He quickly shed his pants and retrieved a condom from the drawer, his determination evident. Positioning himself at her entrance, he locked eyes with her, seeking her silent permission as he began to enter her slowly, their lips brushing together in a tumultuous dance.
With each thrust, a primal intensity enveloped them both. Moments turned to a haze of sweat and ecstasy—Mingyu transformed, becoming both lover and beast, a force of nature that left Sera breathless beneath him. "Ah, fuck," she gasped, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.
As they reached the precipice of their desires, Mingyu shifted her position, bending her over the table. Sera felt the cool surface against her skin, a stark contrast to the fervent heat igniting in her core. "Sera-ah," he moaned, hands gripping her waist, driving deeper with each rhythm.
Their bodies moved in perfect synchrony, the tempo rising as their breaths grew heavier. Mingyu sensed the climax approaching, a rush of exhilaration. With one final thrust, he pulled out, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he released onto her skin. At that moment, time seemed to suspend—their eyes met, and Sera's gaze sparkled with an innocent allure as she too reached her peak, a beautiful symphony shared between them. 
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As the steam from the bathroom lingered in the air, Mingyu stepped out of the shower, water droplets cascading down his toned frame. The casual, effortless nature of his appearance was endearing, yet it evoked an unexpected shyness in him.
"Don't look at me like that," he said, a playful edge to his voice, as he caught Sera's gaze from across the room.
Wiping her hair with a towel, Sera chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Whoa, look at you getting shy after all this," she teased. 
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Two weeks had flown by since that steamy night in the hotel room. And in the aftermath of their passionate escapade, Sera had become a frequent visitor to Mingyu's room. With Joo Hyuk often occupied with his part time job, the two had explored the thrilling dynamics of secrecy, indulging in their hidden desires whenever the opportunity arose. Each rendezvous was charged with excitement—a dance of passion that ignited every corner of Mingyu's otherwise mundane days.
Today, however, was different. Mingyu was on a mission to pick up his best friend, Wonwoo, from the airport.
As he arrived at the bustling airport, he spotted Wonwoo making his way through the terminal.
"Brother!" Mingyu called out, his face lighting up in a broad smile as they both rushed to embrace each other. It felt good, the familiar warmth of friendship rekindled after a few months apart. "Missed ya," Mingyu said, clapping Wonwoo on the back before helping him with his luggage.
"Why did you only call me to pick you up?" Mingyu probed as they loaded the bags into the car's trunk, genuinely curious about his friend's whirlwind life abroad.
"Mom and Dad's 30th anniversary is coming up, and I want to give them a surprise," Wonwoo replied, excitement bubbling over in his voice. It was classic Wonwoo—thoughtful and family-oriented, proud of planning something truly special.
Once settled into the Uber, the chaotic energy of the ride kicked in. Wonwoo dove into a barrage of stories about living abroad—the food, the people, the experiences—but amidst the laughter and reminiscing, he posed an unexpected question that made Mingyu's heart race for an entirely different reason.
"Ah, by the way, do you know which jerk is dating my sister?" Wonwoo asked, casually leaning back in his seat. The smoothness of his nonchalant tone did not betray the depth of the question.
Mingyu felt the color drain from his face. Coughing splutteringly, he quickly grabbed the water bottle beside him to take a sip—a feeble attempt to mask his reaction.
"Like, two weeks ago, I saw my credit card was used to bill at a hotel—the same card I had given to my sister," Wonwoo continued, his voice laced with incredulity. Mingyu's heart raced again. If only he knew...
"You know it would've been better if you were dating my sister, can't trust her with the jerks nowadays", Wonwoo casually said.
The neurological pathways of panic ignited as Mingyu choked once more on his drink, causing a cascade of water to spill across the upholstery of the Uber. The driver shot a frustrated look through the rearview mirror, and Mingyu hastily apologized while trying to wipe away the mess with his sleeve.
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