#having many thoughts about this i promise none of them are normal

[ipushhimback]

How about something with Max and he’s like always grumpy and rude but never to the reader and just has a soft spot 😩 love me some grumpy x sunshine

i am so extremely sorry this took me so so long so please forgive me. also i tried my best but i am not completely happy with it. anyway, enjoy reading it <3

a softie

pairing: max verstappen x reader warnings: none word count: 1.2 k summary: max takes you to the paddock for the first time <3

“Are you sure I’m allowed to come with you to the race? I don’t want everyone to hate me when I’m there. And won’t I be in the team’s way?” you asked Max as you looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure your outfit didn’t look too bad.

“Of course you are. I’m sure there’ll be lots of other people around. And you’ll love the others. I heard Charles’ girlfriend, Alex, is going to be there, and Carmen, George’s girlfriend, as well. I haven’t talked to them a lot, but I know they’re nice. Also, you won’t be in anyone’s way. And if you’re bored, you can hang out in another team’s garage with Alex or Carmen,” Max said as he walked over and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“I’m just worried… You know how I am. Too much overthinking happening in my brain. What if they think I’m too much? I always talk a lot and never shut up. And I laugh at the worst moments!” you said, remembering how you’d laughed last week when your niece dropped her ice cream on the street.

You tilted your head back against Max’s shoulder.

“No, babe. They’ll love you for it. I promise,” your boyfriend said, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

“Pinky promise?” you asked with a pout, holding your pinky out to him.

Max rolled his eyes affectionately but linked his pinky with yours.

“Pinky promise,” he said, smiling down at you. “Also, you look absolutely stunning.”

You grinned as you looked back in the mirror. You were wearing a new jean skirt and a blouse you’d bought just last week.

“Are you sure it’s not too basic?” you asked again.

“A hundred percent. You’ll be the prettiest woman in the paddock,” he said, giving your waist a final, gentle squeeze. “Now let’s go.”

***

A little later, you were walking through the paddock at Max’s side, holding his hand tightly.

“I already see it coming. I’m going to get lost here. Why are there already so many people? It’s so early! Don’t they want to sleep in like normal people on a Sunday morning?”

“Nope. They want to see us drivers and hope to get autographs and photos,” Max said with a chuckle.

At that moment, someone approached you and Max. You recognized him from a few races you’d watched—Lando.

“Mate! Who’s that?” he asked, greeting Max with a firm clap on the back.

“My girlfriend.”

You had to suppress a laugh at Max’s short answer. He really was the grumpiest person you’d ever met.

“Uh, since when do you have a girlfriend? Why haven’t you told us about her?” Lando asked, looking a little disappointed. “I thought we were friends, mate!”

“We’re not.”

You couldn’t suppress the laugh anymore.

“Excuse my boyfriend here. I’m Y/N. His girlfriend for about half a year. Nice to meet you. You’re Lando, right? Driver for that orange team? Nice outfit, by the way. And your hair looks amazing! Do you use a lot of products for that? Those curls are incredible! I gave up on mine after I realized my hair just hates me.”

Lando looked at you with a frown, and you immediately started worrying that you’d said something wrong—until he suddenly burst out laughing. He had a funny laugh.

“No way you managed to pull her, Max,” he managed between laughs.

Max just looked at him blankly.

“Well, I did. And you’re still single. So leave me alone, Norris.”

“Rude,” Lando muttered, shaking his head as he turned and walked off.

Once he was gone, you turned to Max.

“Babe. You didn’t have to be so rude! Aren’t you two friends?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“We are. But we’re also rivals. And we’re not the kind of friends who talk a lot about personal stuff. He’s too nosy. I want to have you to myself,” Max said as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

You squinted at him before nodding.

“Mhm… Now let’s go. There are too many fans, and I need to meet everyone else.”

Max nodded and draped his arm around your shoulder as he led you further into the Red Bull garage.

“So, Yuki’s probably already somewhere around. You can say hi to him when you see him, but he’s a bit much. He talks a lot. Too much sometimes.”

“Ohh yes! I love people who talk a lot! It’s always so awkward when they don’t. Like, how am I supposed to react then? That’s why I love you. You always talk to me about things I like without making me feel bad about it!” you exclaimed, grinning widely.

Right then, Yuki came by—and he had clearly overheard.

“Sorry? Are we talking about the same Max? He never really talks! He just sits somewhere with his earbuds in, probably listening to a guided meditation,” Yuki said, laughing.

“No way! He’s a talking teddy bear! Can’t shut up after something exciting happens or when he reads something he knows I’ll find interesting. He seriously is the bestest boyfriend out there, aren’t you?” you said, turning to Max and pressing a kiss to his cheek, making him blush.

“I don’t…” he grumbled, trying to hide it.

“Sure you don’t,” you whispered, kissing him again. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Yuki!”

You stepped forward and hugged the shorter man. Yuki made a surprised noise but hugged you back.

Max cleared his throat, clearly jealous. The moment you pulled back from Yuki, Max’s arm was right back around your shoulders.

“We have to go now,” the Dutch driver said.

“Your girlfriend is amazing! Bring her to the paddock more often!” you heard Yuki say as the two of you walked away.

Once you reached Max’s driver’s room, he closed the door and turned to hug you tightly, burying his face in your hair and inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your head.

“Love you more. Always,” you replied.

***

You later met Alex, Charles’ girlfriend, and Carmen, George’s girlfriend. All the other so called WAGs would arrive later or only the next day.

Alex was an amazing woman with an amazing dog. Leo immediately came over to you with a wagging tail, demanding attention that you immediately gave to the little sausage dog. 

Carmen wasn’t any less amazing than Alex. She immediately welcomed you with a tight hug.

“It is so amazing to meet you! I didn’t even know Max had a girlfriend!”, she has exclaimed as soon as you had introduced yourself. The rest of FP1 and FP2 you chatted with Alex and her about a lot of things.

Pets, Max, Charles, George, fashion, and more. 

***

That evening, you were curled up against Max’s chest, scrolling through Instagram. One post caught your attention. It was from a Formula 1 gossip page.

The new star of the paddock: Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. Who could have known that he is secretly a softie…

You chuckled.

“They’re calling you a softie,” you whispered.

“M’not,” came the gruff reply. But only a few seconds later, a soft kiss was pressed to the top of your head. “Maybe. But just for you.”

a/n: i got this request so long ago but it took me so long to write i am so sorry. also, if you have any other requests feel free to send them in <3 thanks to everyone who likes my fics!!

tags:

@strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 / @anayaverse / @htpssgavi / @dessashippr / @f1allymgp / @nickie-amore / @f1norris04 / @frostqueen-dhriya / @isagrace22 

[multishipper-baby]

Not publishing the ask yet because I want to reply with the playlist but I have to comment on it because

Anon. You just gave the biggest neuron activation.

IT'S 2 AM. BUT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP WHEN I'M THINKING ABOUT THEM.

[daryltwdixon]

Mmwhahaha REQUESTS YES. So jealous joel is my all-time crush, men being jealous is so damn hot. I'm picturing age gap, friends with Tommy, so she's come over for like a BBQ or something, and one of his friends is flirting and being touchy. Incomes jealous joel. I'll leave the creatives to you! Points for a short sundress and tipsy drunk sex later.

|| smut MDNI 18+, no outbreak, size difference (joel is big and hulking obvi, no reader description), pinv quickie, lots of heavy kissing, jealous!joel, maybe a little mean!joel, dirty talk, creampie ||

a/n: heyyyyy I may have gotten a little carried away hehehe tysm for the request!! (left joel pic is from @iamasaddie)

The air was hot and thick with the smell of Frank’s famous ribs on the barbeque that late Saturday afternoon, the sun still beating down despite the hour. Joel’s hand stung from the cold bite of the ice that floated in the cooler as he fished around for a beer, hoping it’d take the edge off the heat, and maybe the company, too.

He was only half listening to the conversation near the tables, the scrape of tongs on the grill, the low hum of voices rising every so often in laughter as the guys hovered around Frank like he was running a damn cooking show. Most of them were well past their drink limit already, and none of them seemed to be slowing down.

It was one of those casual get-togethers Tommy liked to throw now and then. They pulled in the whole damn crew from the job site, a few neighbors, and the usual handful of buddies Tommy had collected through the VA or just from being more sociable than his older brother had ever been.

Joel normally showed up late and dipped out early. But this time, he’d been here since setup. Grunted through the small talk, nodded through the backslaps and the bullshit, even ignored the flirty eyes and lingering hands from some of the wives who’d had one too many.

He was just cracking the tab on his beer when he heard Marcus ask, “Now where’s that cute little thing you always got hangin’ around you these days?”

Joel’s head snapped up before he could stop himself, eyes cutting to his brother like a reflex.

Tommy’s grin widened bashfully, cheeks coloring under the weight of Marcus’s arm slung around his shoulders.

The guys burst into laughter, light punches landing against Tommy’s chest and arms, jabbing at him like boys in a locker room. Joel didn’t laugh, instead, he felt his jaw tighten.

He didn’t really know you. The real estate girl Tommy had gotten friendly with, now that he was helping out more regularly with Miller Contracting. You’d become part of the routine, almost part of the company entirely if Tommy had his way. You were slowly turning into the face of the pitch, the one always talking to buyers with your bright voice and glossy folders and those heels that somehow never sank into the grass.

Truth be told, Joel thought you were actually pretty damn good at your job. You never over-promised. Never made excuses. You just smiled at the impatient homeowners and smoothed things over with that voice of yours, always steady, always sweet.

No worries, Mrs. Smith, the boys are workin’ hard, and your granite countertops should be done real soon. What’s that? You need it finished in two weeks? Don’t worry, I’ll ask ‘em to crank up the Constructo-Meter and work double-time.

Joel had to force himself not to smile the first time you pulled that one out.

Because you were a pain in his ass. Always wedging yourself into their business, always making friendly chatter with the guys—it drove him mad.

But still, that never seemed stop him from thinking about the way those little black skirts and low cut blouses hugged your curves, how your voice went syrupy when you talked on the phone, how your perfume lingered long after you’d left the site.

And it sure didn’t stop the way his blood started to run a little hotter now, just hearing other men talk about you like that.

And speaking of the devil in heels, there you were, the back door sliding open and your bright smile shining across the yard. But you weren’t in your usual business attire. Long gone was the little black pencil skirt, you had sandals instead of kitten heels, and instead of your clipboard tucked under your chest, you held a dish covered in a tea towel.

Instead, you wore a simple little sundress. Light fabric, floral print, the kind that clung just enough to your waist before fluttering out around your thighs. It moved with every step you took, catching the breeze as if made for days just like this.

Your legs were bare, glowing in the bright sunlight, long and smooth and dusted with the faint shimmer of the afternoon heat. You walked slow, easy, like you didn’t feel a dozen sets of eyes turn toward you all at once.

“There she is!” Marcus called, loud and eager, already moving to greet you like a dog off-leash. He bulldozed his way across the lawn, nearly knocking over someone’s lawn chair to get to you first. Joel watched as you smiled politely, extending your hand. You let Marcus take it, let him rest his palm on your shoulder like he’d known you more than a couple weeks. He led you into the yard like you were the goddamn guest of honor. 

But had Joel blinked just then, he would’ve missed the way your eyes flitted to him across the lawn, almost in a silent plea. What was it you were asking of him? To pull you away from Marcus’s grip? To save you from the onslaught of attention? Joel told himself he was overthinking it. You only glanced at him, anyway. It was only a second, quick and barely there, but he felt his ears go red. 

Then you were pulled right into the thick of it. The circle of men and smoke and beer breath and loud talk surrounded you and Joel’s eyes narrowed when you leaned up and kissed Tommy on the cheek in greeting.

What the hell?

Joel’s mind scrambled for any semblance of conversation he had with his brother about you recently. As far as he knew, you weren’t seeing each other, or else he knew Tommy would be bragging from the rooftops about it. So why were you kissing him on the cheek, and why in God’s name was his brother looking so damn pleased with himself?

The guys hooted, elbowing Tommy again, shouting some nonsense about keeping secrets and "oughta let the rest of us have a chance." You laughed. That easy, breezy kind of laugh Joel had only ever heard you use with clients. It was sweet and polished and meant to keep things light.

“You’re bad,” you said to Marcus as he playfully tugged at the edge of your dish towel-covered plate. “I brought peach cobbler. Hands off till it’s on the table.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he grinned, “Don’t tell me you just came here to tease us like that.”

Joel clenched his jaw so hard his molars ached.

They fawned over you for a little longer, offering you a drink, asking about your week, making you promise you’d be at the site tomorrow. You laughed and nodded and let them talk at you while you balanced the covered dish in your hands.

Finally, someone called for plates and food, and the group began to break apart. You used the chance to step away, heading toward the folding table to set the dish down, hands smoothing the towel flat once you uncovered the cobbler.

Joel dropped his gaze down to the cooler as you approached, hyper aware of every footfall he heard of yours, the slapping of your fancy looking sandals. He could feel your approach, his nerves fraying the closer you got.

“You gonna guard that cooler all night, Mr. Miller?”

His jaw flexed again.

He could see your painted toes in his periphery, the slender straps of your sandals peeking through the grass as you stood beside him now, arms crossed loosely as you probably were eyeing the cooler. Joel didn’t answer at first, but he reached back into the ice and grabbed another beer. He knew which kind you liked. He offered it to you all the while barely looking at you. 

“Thanks,” you said, taking it from him and flipping the tab. “Didn’t realize it came with a side of brooding.”

His eyes finally flicked to your face, but you were already turning and walking away. 

Pain in his ass.

The fire pit was burning high, crackling steady in the pit as the night settled in thick and warm. Most of the crowd had cleared out by now, just a small group lingering in mismatched chairs and folding camp seats around the orange glow. Tommy was strumming his guitar across the fire from Joel, and someone had pulled out the s’mores kit, and now half-melted chocolate wrappers and graham cracker crumbs littered the little side table.

You were perched on the edge of a faded Adirondack chair, legs tucked under you, a roasting stick gripped delicately between your fingers. A single marshmallow dangled above the flame, the bottom already blistering black while the top sagged from the heat.

Joel watched you, his umpteenth beer in hand, his skin flushed and brow glowering at you across the fire beside his brother. But you hadn’t paid much mind to him all day. 

The thought of that being the exact reason he was glowering flitted across his mind before he shook it away with another swig.

He told himself he was only watching you because you were reckless with the fire. That someone needed to keep an eye on you before you set yourself or the whole damn yard ablaze. But even as the thought passed through, it felt thin.

“Uh-oh,” someone murmured, pointing at your marshmallow.

You lifted it too slowly, distracted mid-conversation, and by the time you noticed, it was already half-melted, sagging off the stick. But you just laughed, grinning as you brought it straight to your lips anyway.

It hit your mouth in a gooey, half-scalding mess. A smear of white stuck to the corner of your lip, the rest slipping down your chin in a slow drip before you caught it with your finger.

“Shit,” you said, laughing again, swiping at the melted mess before licking your finger clean with a soft, exaggerated pop. “Too hot.”

One of the women next to you snorted, covering her mouth. Another chimed in, “Girl, you’re gonna burn your tongue off.”

But the men… they were all silent, frozen, staring in awe as you finished off the white sugary syrup that dripped down your finger.

Joel’s pulse kicked hard in his neck, the bottle slick in his hand. His eyes narrowed across the flames, locked on you like you were a match yourself. He didn’t know what pissed him off more—how you didn’t seem to notice the reaction around the firepit, or how maybe the fact that you very much knew exactly what you were doing.

You were glowing in the firelight, hair messy and cheeks flushed, lips still sticky with sugar and heat. And you weren’t even looking at him. You were laughing with the others like you hadn’t just made every man in the circle forget what they were saying mid-sentence.

He hated it.

Absolutely fucking hated it.

He stood up suddenly, the legs of his chair scraping loud against the concrete.

Your eyes flicked over to him, a little startled. 

Joel didn’t say much as he stalked off, only muttering something about needing to take a piss as he moved off toward the house, shoulders tight and eyes storm-dark.

Pain in his ass.

The house was quiet in the way that always made Joel feel like he could finally breathe. Music still played low from the guitar in Tommy’s lap, something twangy and slow, and the hum of conversation from outside was muffled by the closed door. He stood in the kitchen with his back to the room, hands braced against the counter, head bowed. His beer sat half-finished beside the sink, piss warm by now.

He hated this.

He hated the way his stomach twisted every time you laughed at someone else’s joke. He hated how the sound of his own brother’s name on your lips made his shoulders tense or how you floated through the yard like you didn’t even notice the way people watched you.

And worse, hated how badly he wanted you to look at him.

He didn’t want to be that kind of man. The kind that glared at his own brother like a dog guarding a bone. The kind that let a little sugar-slick smile get under his skin. But here he was. Stuck in it. Damn near drowning in it. A grown man stewing in the dark over a girl that wasn’t even his.

Joel kept reminding himself that he barely knew you. Just a few months of day in and day out visits to the sites, or meeting him and his brother on new projects. Joel and you mostly only talked business, maybe a few jokes here and there if he was in a good enough mood. Sometimes you brought him coffee when you knew it’d be a long day. You’d learned how he’d liked it. He was kicking himself for never being all that nice to you. But it surely wasn’t enough to justify this ugly thing crawling up his spine every time you touched Tommy’s arm or shared a smile with one of the other guys.

If anyone deserved you, it was probably Tommy. He was good with people, charming and light on his feet and always seemed to know what to say. If you were gonna fall for someone, Joel figured it would be him. Maybe you already had.

But none of that stopped the way Joel’s blood ran hot just at the thought of it.

No. Joel wanted you.

And he wanted you bad.

He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to settle the mess churning in his chest. He hated the way he got around you, how quick his temper flared, how easily his thoughts tangled. The jealousy slipped in quiet at first, but it had since settled deep, coiling tight in his gut until everything felt too hot. And beneath it, there was the want. Hot and blood boiling, it was impossible to ignore. It clung to him in moments like this, too loud for the quiet kind of life he told himself he wanted now.

And just as he was pulling himself together, the back door creaked open behind him.

He turned halfway, startled.

You stepped inside, lit from behind by the porch light, brows pinched and lip tucked between your teeth. You didn’t see him at first, just cradled your hand in front of you and headed for the cabinets.

“Can’t believe I actually burned myself,” you muttered, yanking one open and rummaging through it.

Joel blinked. “The hell you doin’?”

You jumped slightly, eyes snapping to him. “Jesus—I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Clearly,” he snapped, but then his gaze dropped to the way your fingers curled protectively around your hand. He let out a sigh, quieter this time. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

You hesitated, then nodded and moved toward the counter. Joel disappeared down the hall and came back a moment later with the first aid kit, clicking it open as you settled on the edge of the counter. Your bare feet dangled above the floor, knees drawn in slightly like you were trying to take up less space.

“I feel so stupid,” you muttered with a breathy little laugh, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah, well,” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t’ve been playin’ in fire.”

“I wasn’t playing,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I dropped my marshmallow.”

Joel didn’t respond. He let the quiet settle again as he took your hand in his. He hadn’t noticed before how small it was. How his palm all but swallowed yours. You were so warm, so close. Closer than he’d ever been, really.

After a moment, you tilted your head, frowning at him. “What’s been your deal today?”

He didn’t answer, just dabbed on the burn cream. You winced, and he almost felt bad.

“You’ve been acting… weird,” you said softly.

“Weird?” he echoed, even though he knew exactly what you meant. He had been acting like an asshole, there was no doubt about it. 

“You’ve been…distant. All broody and quiet.”

He finally looked up at you under his brows. “I don’t brood.”

Your lips curved, amused in spite of yourself. “Joel Miller, you are the definition of brooding. What’s going on with you?”

He paused, focusing on wrapping the bandage like it was the most important thing in the world. He didn’t know if he was going to answer. Didn’t know if he should.

“You don’t even realize it, do you?” he said finally.

You blinked. “Realize what?”

He glanced at you, frowning. “The way you act out there with them. Letting ‘em fawn all over you. Laughin’, lickin’ marshmallow off your damn fingers like you don’t know what that looks like.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

“Maybe you don’t realize it. Or maybe you do. Maybe that’s the whole thing. Part of your little game.”

“I don’t play games, Mr. Miller,” you said sharply, jerking your hand from his. You stood abruptly, the scrape of your feet on the tile loud in the silence. Joel was already kicking himself for being such an asshole.

“And if you’re so mad about them lookin’ at me, you sure as hell don’t seem to care enough to do anything about it.”

His blood ran hot under your glare. You tipped your chin up at him, eyes sparking now, fire in them even here, far away from the pit.

“And what the hell do you want me to do about it, huh?” he seethed.

And that’s when he saw your eyes flitting to his mouth.

The air between you burned, thick and charged, like static right before a storm. You didn’t back down. You stood there, chest rising fast, glaring up at him like you dared him to move. Joel towered over you, the low kitchen light behind him casting his shadow across your whole body.

You were breathing hard, and he swore he could see your pulse pounding in your neck, right at the base of your throat. He wanted to touch it. Press his fingers there just to feel it.

“What the hell is goin’ on with you and my brother?” he asked, the words coming sharp, cut straight from the mess in his chest. It had been stuck in his head all night—that kiss on the cheek, the way you trailed after Tommy, how you sat beside him through dinner, through the firepit, stuck to him like glue.

Your head jerked slightly like you couldn’t believe the question. “Seriously?”

“You’ve been followin’ him around like a little puppy all damn day. Kissed him on the cheek when you got here,” Joel said, like that explained everything.

“It was a greeting, Joel,” you shot back. “You do realize people are allowed to be nice to each other, right? There’s nothing going on with me and Tommy.”

He didn’t say anything.

“You’d know that if you actually talked to me instead of just staring all day like you’re allergic to conversation.”

Joel’s jaw tensed. His hands curled into fists at his sides. But you weren’t done.

“He’s my friend. That’s it. Tommy’s easy to be around. He laughs at my dumb jokes. He introduces me to people like he’s proud I’m there.”

Joel looked away, the weight of that last sentence heavy in his chest.

You watched him, breath tight in your chest. Then you shook your head and took a step back.

“Besides,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, “he’s not the Miller I’m interested in.”

He stood suddenly frozen in place. He stared at you like the words didn’t compute. Like maybe he hadn’t heard you right. Like his brain refused to accept it.

You turned, trying to slip past him, trying to put this whole thing behind you, but his arm came out fast. His hand landed flat on the counter beside you, cutting off your escape. The movement wasn’t violent, but it was firm.

You jumped back, breath catching as you looked back up at him.

“Say that again,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard. “You heard me.”

“I wanna hear you say it again.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and unrelenting.

And then, quieter, but no less certain, you said it again.

“I want you, Joel.” you said, and then breathing in deep as if gathering the courage, you added: “You’re just too dumb to see it.”

The words hit him like a slap to the face, and something in him broke loose.

He didn’t let himself think about it too long, didn’t give himself any time to talk himself out of it. He pushed forward, hands sliding to your ribcage, and lifting you effortlessly to the counter. You gasped at the cool tile under your legs, your dress hiking further up as he set you down. 

Then his mouth was on yours. And he wasn’t soft or gentle or even slow.

It was all heat and teeth and months of want compressed into a single kiss. His lips crashed against yours, greedy and rough, his stubble scraping your skin as his hands held you tight, thumbs digging into your waist like he was afraid you might take it back if he let go.

You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed it whole, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, hot and slick and searching. He kissed you like he was trying to devour you, like he could bury all the confusion and jealousy and ache in your mouth and come out clean on the other side.

Your hands clawed at his shirt, fisting the fabric and he could feel the way your knees hiked up around him, legs tightening to keep him close as your ankles crossed behind his back. His hips slotted between your legs, fitting there like he belonged, like this was where he’d been meant to be all damn day.

He groaned low in his throat when your teeth scraped his bottom lip. His hand slid up your back, fingers splayed wide, dragging you closer as his other hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face so he could kiss you harder. Deeper. Dirtier.

There was nothing careful about it.

You kissed him back like you’d been waiting for this too, like you were just as pissed off, just as tired of pretending there was nothing between you. Your lips were swollen, slick with spit and sugar, and when you broke away to breathe for half a second, Joel followed you right back in, mouths colliding again, sloppy and hot and wild.

Joel didn’t think he could get enough of you.

Every time you kissed him back, every breathy sound that slipped past your lips, it lit him up from the inside. His hands moved without thinking, one sliding down your thigh, fingers curling under the hem of that soft little dress.

You didn’t stop him, if anything–you leaned into it.

He dragged you closer, hands gripping the back of your thighs as he pulled you toward the edge of the counter. The slide of you against the cool counter top made you gasp but then he was there, pressing himself even harder between your legs, solid and heavy and wanting. 

His hands slid up, dragging the fabric with them until he had you bunched up around your hips, until he could feel the heat of you radiating right through the thin scrap of fabric between your legs. It made him groan, low and guttural, forehead pressed to yours.

"Christ," he muttered, his voice rough, nearly shaking. "You're fuckin' burnin' up."

Your hands were in his hair now, tugging gently at the strands as your hips rolled forward, slow and seeking. His grip tightened, and he pulled you flush against him, grinding the hard line of his cock up into your center. He could feel everything—the softness of your inner thighs, the damp heat of you through your panties, the way your body arched into him like you couldn’t stand being separate another second.

You whimpered against his mouth, fingers threading deeper into his hair. He kissed you again, this time slower but no less intense, tongues sliding together, teeth clashing a little when neither of you could stop chasing the other.

Joel broke away, just long enough to press his mouth to the curve of your jaw, then your neck, dragging his lips down to the spot just under your ear where your pulse jumped against his tongue.

“Want you, Joel,” you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more access to your throat which he gladly took, teeth and lips and tongue all dragging across your warm skin, “Want you right here.”

"I know, baby," he rasped, grinding up into you again, slow and deliberate this time, letting you feel every inch of him. "This what you wanted all night, huh? Wanted me to take you in my brother’s kitchen like this?”

Your breath hitched. Your nails scraped against his scalp.

"Yes," you whispered.

He could feel how soaked you were, how hot and needy. The ache in his gut tightened, like he was right on the edge of losing whatever restraint he had left. His hand slid up your side, curved around your ribcage, thumb brushing just beneath the swell of your breast.

You were trembling now. Chest rising in sharp little bursts. Your legs wrapped tighter around his hips, like you were trying to fuse the two of you together.

“Then let me in, pretty girl,” he groaned, his voice shredded with restraint.

Hands reached between your bodies, his fingers dragged up the length of your clothed heat, barely brushing where you needed him most. Then he hooked his fingers around your panties and tugged them down, rough and quick, letting them fall to the floor.

He didn’t waste time.

His hand went to his jeans, undoing them with one hand, hissing low through his teeth as he freed himself, hard and already slick at the tip. He lined up with no finesse, not bothering to say more. Just pressed forward and buried himself in you with one deep, desperate thrust.

You cried out, head falling back against the cabinet, legs tightening around him even more.

“Fuck,” he gritted, voice strained and guttural. “This what you needed, baby? All those fuckers flirtin’ with you and touchin’ you, but this is who you wanted, huh? This cock right here?”

You whimpered something that might’ve been his name.

He snapped his hips forward again, harder, driving into you like he needed to stake a claim.

“That’s right, take it. So—Jesus, so goddamn tight. And all them think they might’ve had a chance but now look at you—stuffed full of cock like you’re made for it.”

Your fingers clawed into his back as he rutted into you, the edge of the counter digging into your ass, his body flush against yours. His mouth found your neck again, biting at the skin there, hands gripping your hips so hard you’d have bruises in the morning.

“You feel that?” he growled, thrusting up harder, rougher. “That’s mine. This pussy’s mine now. You gonna walk back out there drippin’ with me?”

You moaned, hips rolling helplessly against him, eyes glazed and lips parted.

“God, I fuckin’ knew it,” he muttered against your throat. “Knew you’d be a perfect little slut for me. Knew you’d let me ruin you the second I got you alone.”

He was so deep inside you, every stroke sharp and punishing, dragging the sounds out of you, making you clamp down tighter around him like your body didn’t know what to do with all of him.

“Come on then,” he rasped. “You gonna come on my cock like a good girl, or you want me to talk you through it?”

Your hands shot up, fingers tangling in his hair, yanking him down into a kiss that was all teeth and need. You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed every bit of it, lips dragging across yours before he nipped at your bottom lip.

Joel groaned desperately into your mouth, the sound escaping from deep in his chest. He could feel the way you fluttered around him, could tell you were getting close. 

He pulled back just far enough to look at you, one hand still gripping your hip, the other sliding down between your bodies. His fingers found your clit in seconds, slick and swollen and begging for attention.

“Ohhh, there she is,” he breathed with a dark little grin, rubbing slow, lazy circles that made you twitch. “That’s what you needed, huh?”

“Joel,” you gasped, eyes rolling, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s it. Say my name again,” he muttered, thrusting up into you, rough and steady, fingers never stopping. “You gettin’ close, sweetheart?”

You nodded, panting, body arching into him.

“Tell me,” he said, voice wrecked but firm. “Tell me how good I make you feel.”

You choked out a laugh between moans, half-drunk on it. “You’re such an asshole.”

He grinned. “Really shouldn’t be sayin that while I’m rearranging your guts, baby girl.”

“You smug bastard,” you gasped, rocking down on him, chasing every stroke.

“Aw, I know,” he cooed with an evil, teasing lilt, and then he was kissing you again, deep and filthy, fingers moving faster now, hips snapping hard against you. “Now come on. Let go for me. Wanna feel ‘er squeeze the fuck outta my cock.”

Your head dropped back, eyes rolling up, thighs trembling around his hips.

“That’s it,” he growled. “There she is. Come for me, baby. Make a mess. I fuckin’ dare you.”

And just like that, you broke. Your body seized around him, jaw slackened with a cry as you came hard, clenching tight around him.

“Jesus fuck,” he groaned, hips stuttering. “You’re perfect. Fuckin’ perfect.” he kept saying over and over again as he was spilling into you with a deep, broken moan, hips pressed flush to yours as he pulsed inside, thick and hot and perfect.

He stayed like that for a moment, both of you tangled together, panting against each other’s mouths. The only sound was your breathing, the faint music still playing from outside, the thud of Joel’s heart trying to calm down.

Slowly, he pulled back. His cock slipped from you, still thick and wet with both of you. You squirmed slightly at the loss, but Joel didn’t let you go far.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured, leaning down to reach between your thighs once he tucked himself away.

You gasped when his fingers slid back inside you, two thick digits pushing his cum back in with slow, easy strokes.

“Just cleanin’ you up,” he said, voice too soft to match the filth of what he was doing. “Can’t have it all drip out too fast. Not yet.”

You huffed a disbelieving laugh, but you still pulled one leg up to sit your bare foot on the counter, giving him more access.

“Want you walkin’ out there feelin’ it,” he whispered. “Want you sittin’ there all sweet while Tommy plays his little guitar and you’re sittin’ full of me. Warm and messy. Gonna keep my come inside you all night, pretty girl.”

You moaned under your breath, shivering again as he eased his fingers out.

Joel reached down and grabbed your panties from the floor. He slid them back up your legs, slow and careful, tugging them snug over your soaked center with a quiet, satisfied hum.

Then he leaned in again, kissed you on the lips, slower this time, no fire, just something warm and heavy and full of something more than the lust that was slowly dissipating from his blood.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

And when you smiled up at him, all wicked with flushed cheeks and kiss-bitten lips, he knew this wasn’t going to be the last time.

I saw this the other day and am in love lolol hope you enjoyed!!!

[jensthwa]

show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 11k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!

NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 28th 2024.

TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay

masterlist.

When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 

It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 

Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 

The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 

The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 

You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 

It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 

When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 

Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 

A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 

The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worn out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 

The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 

The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 

His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 

There's no getting rid of me either, love.

We'll figure it out. 

Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 

Yeah, you'll figure it out.  

And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 

You are fucked. 

It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 

“Mingi is driving you, right?” 

“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 

“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 

Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 

“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 

“R-right.” 

He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 

Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 

“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 

“You made it, dear.” 

“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 

You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.

Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 

Maybe not the smartest option. 

If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—

Someone's texting you. 

> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 

Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 

So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 

The casual texting annoys you. 

Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 

Oh, maybe that's why. 

But it ticks you off either way. 

Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?

Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 

It doesn't make any sense. 

You hit send. 

> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 

Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.

> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 

Oh. 

Not casual texting. At. All. 

Or maybe it is? 

Ugh.

Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 

Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 

And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.

Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 

Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 

They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.

The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 

Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 

That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 

Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.

You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  

Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 

Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 

God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 

Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 

“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 

Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 

“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 

“And make sure to—” 

“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 

They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 

He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 

Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 

“I was just making sure that he—” 

“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 

“Alright. Love you, take care!” 

“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 

When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 

“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 

“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 

“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 

When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 

“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 

Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 

“You can help me with that.” 

“Can I now?” 

“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 

Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 

“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 

A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 

Nothing has changed. 

Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.

So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into a hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 

Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 

You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 

“You made it!” 

“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 

Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 

You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 

If Seonghwa catches the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 

“Mingi!” 

What the hell is she doing here? 

Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 

She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 

Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 

Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 

She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 

Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 

“Well fuck me, am I right?” 

“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on your shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 

If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 

“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 

“You can't possibly know that.” 

“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 

He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 

“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 

“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 

San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 

“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 

“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 

“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 

“We're just friends now!” 

“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 

Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 

Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 

Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 

You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 

Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 

He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 

Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 

You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 

“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 

“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 

Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 

“Who is sh—” 

“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 

Huh?! 

You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 

The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 

“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 

Great, that didn't work either. 

“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 

“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 

“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 

“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 

Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 

“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 

Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 

“Sure thing.” 

You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 

This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 

He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 

So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 

Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 

When you're tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 

“What the fuck, Mingi?” 

Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 

“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 

“People usually knock!” 

“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 

You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 

But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 

Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 

“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 

You let out a sigh. 

“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 

“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 

“Cool.” 

He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 

“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 

It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 

“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 

He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 

“What's so amusing?” 

At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.

“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 

He's such a guy sometimes. 

“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 

“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 

“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 

He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 

He keeps his mouth shut. 

“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 

“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 

“Mingi, don't say that!” 

“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 

“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  

“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 

“You don't even know her name, love.” 

“That's not the fucking point!” 

He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.

Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 

That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 

Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 

You hate it. 

You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 

Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 

And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 

When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 

“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 

You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 

Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 

“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 

“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 

“Did something happen or…?” 

What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 

“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 

“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 

“Ye—” 

“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 

Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 

Immature. Petty. Rude. 

You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 

You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 

As he should be. 

You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 

The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 

You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 

“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 

Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 

“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”

“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 

He's angry. Shit. 

You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 

When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 

The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 

You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 

But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 

“You shouldn't have bothered.” 

“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 

Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”

“Did I stutter or something?” 

“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 

“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 

The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 

“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 

That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 

The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 

Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 

“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 

Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 

“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 

Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?

“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 

You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 

What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  

“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 

“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 

“She didn't even say hi to me!” 

“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 

You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 

“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 

Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 

So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 

Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 

“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 

Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 

When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 

And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 

You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 

This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 

“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 

“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 

“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 

“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 

“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 

His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 

So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 

“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.

The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 

You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 

There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 

You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 

His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 

“This goddamn dress, love.” 

Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 

“Been thinking about it all day…” 

“It worked, by the way.” 

“Woo?” 

“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 

“And Jongho?” 

“Probably plotting against me right now.” 

He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.” 

Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 

“Worked on you, too.” 

He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 

“Oh?” 

A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 

“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 

This is it. 

Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 

“I love you, Mingi.” 

He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if it's too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

And his does too. 

You kiss him until it hurts. 

He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 

The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 

It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 

And then it doesn't. 

The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 

He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 

You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and lets his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 

Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 

“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 

When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 

He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 

Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 

“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 

“Fuck, Mingi…” 

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 

“Y-yes.” 

Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 

Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 

He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.

Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 

“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 

“Mingi…” 

“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 

“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 

“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 

He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 

What a tease. 

So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 

Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 

You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 

But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 

He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 

“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 

And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 

He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 

Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 

You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.

He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 

“You don't have to, love.” 

“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 

He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 

That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 

Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 

Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 

Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 

He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.

“Just like that, love.” 

To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 

Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 

The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick from touching is your hand. 

You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.

The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 

You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 

There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 

“Condom. Now.” 

He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 

Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 

Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 

He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 

“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 

You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 

Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 

“Baby… Harder.” 

“Yeah?” 

Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 

“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 

In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 

“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 

The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 

It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 

“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 

Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 

He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 

There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 

Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 

“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 

“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.” 

Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 

He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 

“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 

Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 

“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't see it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 

Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 

It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 

After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 

Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 

In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 

What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 

Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 

But everyone seems unaffected by it. 

“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 

“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 

She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 

“And no one told us?!” 

“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 

“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 

“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 

“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 

Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 

“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 

“I’m sure Mingi did—” 

“Wooyoung!” 

“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 

San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 

“Am not!” 

Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  

“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 

There's some story there you don't know. 

“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 

Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 

“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 

Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 

“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 

“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 

Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 

You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 

His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 

“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 

“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 

You smile “Well, she's right.” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 

When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 

A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 

“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 

You're the happiest you've ever been.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[purploozi]

Boyfriend | Lee Ji Hoon

Pairing: bf!Woozi x Reader

Genre: fluff and Woozi

Warning: none, just Woozi

I'm down bad for Woozi and I NEEDED to write about him to be able to focus on my studies so enjoyyy

Boyfriend!Woozi who (somehow) leaves you speechless everytime by just EXISTING and being the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for.

Boyfriend!Woozi who sneaks under the sheets late at night wrapping one arm around your waist to bring you closer to his chest, spooning you while mumbling sweet nothings about how much he loves you until he falls asleep.

Boyfriend!Woozi who doesn't let you get out of bed in the morning, tightening his hold on your waist and nuzzling his face into your neck mumbling a soft "don't go" (you always arrive late at work because of this)

Boyfriend!Woozi who writes little notes and likes to hide them for you to find. In your bag, between the pages of your notebook, or tucked under your pillow. But sometimes, he just leaves them in places easy to see. On the screen of your computer, in the door of the fridge, on the mirror of the bathroom. And no matter how many times you find them, they never fail to brighten your day. He writes simple things like “Don’t forget to eat” or “I miss you already” but sometimes you meet with a small poem full of sweet words dedicated to you.

Boyfriend!Woozi who hums random melodies all day, he loves music so you thought it was normal for him. But then, one day, you realize that the melodies he hums and the poems on his little notes were never random. They were pieces of a song about you.

Boyfriend!Woozi who makes sure to check his phone every hour, it doesn't matter if he's busy in the studio or filming some gose content. He's traumatized after that time when he didn't check his phone for more than five hours and while leaving the studio at night he saw your message that you were in the hospital and he got SCARED.

Boyfriend!Woozi who decorated his studio with pillows, a blanket and some stuffed animals (because HE KNOWS you love soft stuff) for those days when you spend time there keeping him company.

Boyfriend!Woozi who playfully grumbles when you steal his hoodie but secretly loves seeing you wearing it. He even “forgets” to take it back, just so he can see you with it a little longer.

Boyfriend!Woozi who might look uninterested to everyone else but to YOU he gives his undivided attention to whatever you say or do, you are literally his muse so he makes sure to show his affection every day with little gestures to make you feel loved.

I love Woozi~💜

This was a little distraction from the story about Seungcheol that I'm writing but I promise to go back to it!

[laligraves]

a wedding in june

cult leader!joel miller x virgin fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~3.2k summary: You run from Joel on your wedding day. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), some proofreading, post-outbreak, commune/cult vibes, arranged marriage, mentions of infected/gore/violence, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, some face slapping, loss of virginity (and some pain associated to that but only a few sentences), outdoors sex, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i promise i have other ideas rattling in my brain besides dubious consent 😭 i have a whole wip chart with tons of ideas that i hope i can write

You run faster at the sound of shouts behind you. Sweat drips down your temples and fear makes your heart beat erratically, but you don’t dare stop. 

The outer gates are only a few more hundred feet away. All you need to do is get past the trees and you’ll be able to escape. You don’t have time to think about how this will be your first time venturing outside of the commune. 

Everything you were taught about the outside, about the orphaned souls and monsters that lurk, none of that matters. Not when you’re more terrified at what your future will bring.

Joel Miller. The man who in just a few months, cleared away the hundreds of infected in the nearby valley. Joel, who in the commune’s monthly hunting trips, manages to find everything from venison to medication. 

The times you’ve been close enough to Joel, to feel the heat emanating off his body, you can almost taste the violence that simmers beneath his skin. Instead of it scaring you, like it would any sane person, it excites you. 

The longing in his gaze whenever he looks at you makes you dizzy. There’s a pulse of heat between your thighs each and every time, one that will only go away after you ride your pillow until exhaustion. Whenever you face him again, after you’ve dreamed of him taking you, you wonder if he knows what you do in the privacy of your room. 

There’s no denying that he’s saved this commune from the brink of starvation. Of course everyone, including you, is grateful for the kindness of a stranger. But in the months he’s been here, their gratitude has turned into pure devotion. 

Your parents practically pushed you into his arms the moment Joel asked about you. Normally quite level headed, your parents have begun to treat Joel like a God. You thought Joel would find their insistence of marriage off putting, that he would be an honorable man and let you choose your own path in this place.  

You were wrong. 

Your parents saw it as an honor that out of all the women in the commune, Joel chose you. The books and pretty dresses he finds on his trips are only a sign of how devoted a husband he will be, at least that’s what your mother tried to tell you.  

And the times you tried to speak to Joel and get him to rethink this marriage? Don’t worry about it, pretty girl, was all he would say before he’d send you off. 

You can imagine him in your bed and fantasize about him in your dreams, but to be his wife? Especially now that he’s been chosen to lead the commune—you want nothing to do with that. 

A denser path to your right has you changing directions, wishing to throw them off your trail. You can still make it if you run through here. 

Except it’s too late. Strong arms grab and push you into the lush grass. 

“No,” you scream, “let me go!” 

“What’s wrong with you,” Joel snaps, “don’t you know what’s out there?” 

“I don’t care,” you scream out childishly, “I’d rather be out there than be with you!” 

He climbs on top of you, grabbing your wrists in one hand and pressing them above your head into the grass. He leans on your thighs to keep you still and grabs your chin with the other hand. 

“Listen to me,” he insists, “you don’t know what you’re sayin’. You know nothin’ of what life is like outside these walls.” 

He digs his fingers into your cheeks and shakes your head slightly since you refuse to look at him. 

“Joel, did you find her?” your father calls out from a distance. 

“Yeah, I got ‘er.” 

“Great, let’s go back and finish the celebration–” 

“No,” Joel calls out. 

“Joel–” 

“Leave,” Joel interrupts. 

He continues sitting on you, putting most of his weight on your trembling body. The white dress you're wearing, a satin piece that he found on their last hunting trip into the town, rides up dangerously close to your panties. 

“I need to teach you a lesson in respect, wife,” Joel growls. 

He stands and just when you think you can escape again, he yanks you up with him. Joel holds your arm tight with one hand while taking off his belt with the other. He spins you around and brings your wrists behind your back, using the belt to bind them together. 

“You wanna see what’s out there? Since you think you’re so tough?” Joel asks, not waiting for an answer and instead dragging you to the gate. “I do everything to make this place safe for you, darlin’. But this is how you repay me? Runnin’ off at the first chance you get?” 

You’re surprised at his words and the sincerity of his voice. He sounds almost… sad. 

“Practically beggin’ to be out there with those fuckers instead of me?” he continues, “The only man who can truly protect you?” 

You reach the gate and your heartbeat picks up again. You’ve never been out this far. In fact, you’re acres away from the actual commune. While the gates are secure and regularly enforced, you can’t help but feel truly terrified that something will grab you just outside these barriers.  

“I’m sorry, Joel–” 

He stops, spinning you around and landing a hard slap, slap, slap on your ass. 

“You address me as sir.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you cry out, “I learned my lesson. Let’s–let’s go back.” 

Joel ignores you, choosing instead to march you right to the gate. He keeps one hand on your arm and uses the other to maneuver the many locks and wires on the barrier door until it finally opens. 

“No, please! I said I was sorry! I wasn’t thinking!” 

He drags you out and for the first time in your life, you’ve left the commune. Despite only a metal gate separating both sides, this area seems devoid of life. 

He walks and walks until you wonder if you’ll pass out from the panic. You fall to your knees and Joel crouches right in front of you. 

“Your daddy ever tell you about the infected?” Joel whispers, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “How they’ll bite and rip into any part of your flesh.” 

“No, please,” you whimper. 

He drags a finger down your neck and over your exposed collarbones, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your nipples tighten as he glides his finger over one breast and then the other. 

“Once they’re done with you, if there’s anything left, then you become just as mindless and violent as them. Forever lost–” 

“Sir–” 

His hand tightens around your neck, cutting off your words. 

“It’s not just one, babydoll. They like to travel in hordes. Makes it easier to find their victims.” 

Your air supply thins and blood rushes to your ears. You squeeze your thighs unconsciously as the pulsing between them only grows. Joel ghosts his lips over yours and your eyes flutter closed without thinking. 

“But it’s not just them,” he whispers over your lips, “there’s non-infected out there. People who won’t think twice about hurtin’ a pretty girl like you. Killin’ ya’ just for fun.” 

You’re not sure who kisses who first. It’s not the chaste kiss the two of you shared at the altar. It’s rough and has you pressing your body close to his so you can take every swipe of his tongue or bite from his teeth. He continues holding your neck, lightly squeezing so you have no other choice than to gasp for air. 

You fall back at the push of his hand on your chest. He flips you on your side to untie his belt from your wrists. You attack the moment your hands are free, sliding your hands through his salt and pepper hair and tugging him down.

Joel hisses but returns each of your kisses and bites with his own. You hear the squawk of a crow from above and you're immediately reminded of where you are. 

“Wait, sir,” you gasp, “not here. Take me back to your–our house–” 

He drags his teeth down your neck, rubbing his beard into your soft skin and biting down. 

“Thought you’d rather be out here than with me?” he says, repeating your words from earlier.  

“No,” you whimper, trying to push him off, “not here. I–” 

He reaches your chest and sucks your nipple into his mouth right over your dress. Your words are cut off and you're arching your back, trying to push more into his mouth. 

Joel makes room between your thighs and grinds down as you twist his wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His hard bulge rubs over your pussy and your whimper at the roughness.

He pinches your other nipple between two fingers then leans back to tug down the straps of your dress. Warm, summer wind glides over your now naked breasts and you shiver. 

“Look at these pretty tits,” he groans, “all mine.” 

Joel yanks the skirt of the dress over your tummy and runs a finger up and down your panty-covered pussy. You shamelessly grind down on his hand and cry out the moment he lands a harsh slap. 

“Please,” you beg with what's left of your sanity, “take me home.” 

With the same technique as before, Joel holds both wrists in one hand and uses the other to rip your panties off. You try to close your thighs from the sting of the elastic, but he’s quick to stop you. 

“Christ,” he whispers, “now ain’t that a beauty.” 

With two fingers, Joel swipes through your slick folds and brings them up to his mouth.   

“Mmm, sweet girl. Needa taste of this pussy.” 

“What do you mean—“

You try to remind Joel of just where the two of you are, but he fits his broad shoulders between your thighs and fuses his mouth to your pussy. 

You’re surprised, stunned silent by the heat of his mouth on your most intimate parts. You’re by no means ignorant of what a husband does to his wife—you’ve read enough of the romance books your mother keeps hidden in her bedside table and heard enough stories from your friends to have an idea of what happens on a wedding night. 

But never did you imagine it would feel like this. His beard and mustache only heighten the sensitivity between your thighs. The setting sun and the dense forest that surrounds the two of you should add to your terror, but Joel manages to put your attention elsewhere. 

His tongue lashes repeatedly over your clit and down to tease your entrance. You throw your head back onto the grass and stare through blurred vision at the purple sky, uncaring of where you are and of what creeps in the dark. 

He’s greedy, eating away at you like you're the last meal he’ll ever have. You’re slick and sticky, painting his face with your juices, making it easy for him to push a thick finger into your entrance. 

The stretch burns, but he calms you with a swipe of his tongue on your clit and the vibrations of his moans on your skin. 

“Your parents were right, you are a virgin,” he groans, pushing on the little piece of thin flesh that separates the rest of you. “Gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

You have no time to think about when your parents had that conversation with him. Instead, you're dumbfounded at the size of his fingers. You whine, unsure of what exactly you're asking, but nonetheless chanting more, more, more into the air. 

Joel manages to slide a second finger, curving them and pressing on something bumpy that makes you twitch and see black dots in your vision.

He stretches and scissors his fingers in your tightness, opening you up more and sucking your swollen button between his lips. Just when the heat is about to consume every inch of your body, he stops. 

“No,” you whine, trying to yank his head back to your thighs. 

Joel dodges your hands and laughs at the desperation written all over your face. He leans down, pressing his wet face to yours in a sloppy kiss, forcing you to suck on his tongue. Riding your pillow doesn’t compare to this.  

Just as before, Joel rips away and catches your wrist right when you reach for him. 

“If you woulda been a good girl, I woulda eaten this virgin pussy till mornin’,” he says while unbuttoning his jeans. “Made you ride my face and cum as many times as you wanted.” 

You barely understand how someone could ride a face, and yet you clench and gush around nothing, wanting his mouth or fingers back. You see the dark, curly hair at his base before he pulls out his length. 

“But for bein’ a brat, I’m gonna make you come on my cock instead.”

The tip is swollen and leaking a white-ish liquid that makes your mouth water at the sight. He lets go of your wrist and gently slaps your face. 

“Are you listenin’ to me, girl? I won’t fuck you if you ain’t payin’ attention.” 

“Y-yes, sir. I’m listening.” 

Joel laughs once again, noticing the dazed look in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit.” 

There’s a craving inside of you, one that has you suddenly feeling so empty, that if he doesn’t fill you with his cock you think you’ll die. You repeat the word over and over in your head. 

You’ve read it more than enough times and heard it through hushed giggles from your friends, yet the way Joel says the word, the way he squeezes and twists his hand over his cock, you finally understand what the word truly means. 

Your fingers and the handle of your hairbrush were never able to give you what you so desperately seeked. You always stopped before you went in too deep, never able to take that final push inside.

He spreads open your thighs and you lean up on your elbows to try to catch a glance at what he’s doing. You see your sticky fluids stuck on your inner thighs and over the tip of his cock. He pushes in just an inch, and you gasp at the thickness. 

“Fuck, tight little thing,” Joel moans. “Need you to beg f’me, baby.” 

“Please, please, sir,” you answer quickly, “please, I–I want it!” 

He sinks in another inch, his face pinching in barely controlled restraint. 

“Say–fuck, say ‘I need your cock, sir’.”

The words are caught in your throat as you try to adjust to his size. Joel doesn’t like that you take too long to answer and slaps your cheek. 

“Answer me.” 

“I need your–your cock, sir,” you whine. 

“Again, fu–again,” he demands. 

You try your best to repeat his words, except he’s too far gone now. There’s a pinch, a rip of thin flesh and suddenly he’s sliding all the way in. You claw at his arms and at the grass to get away but he’s gripping your thighs, pressing deeper and whispering take it, pretty girl and you ain’t getting away from me.  

You feel full, so incredibly full. You’re split open, ripped apart just for him. 

“I know, baby. I know,” Joel coos, “it’ll hurt only for a minute.” 

His thumb rubs tiny circles on your clit and he leans over to press kisses on your eyelids and cheeks, licking away the tears that fall. 

The stretch burns, but his groans of pleasure and his gentle kisses have a warm glow spreading through your body. Joel notices the change in you and glances down to watch your hips move in small circles. 

“There we go, baby,” he moans, “knew you’d like it.”

He pulls out slowly, keeping eye contact with you and watching each pinch of your brow and flutter of your eyelids. 

“Saved this pretty cunt just f’me, yeah?” 

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, pushing away the sweaty curls from Joel’s forehead. 

He picks up the pace, curling his hand behind your knee and pushing it into your chest, arranging you like a doll. The pain now completely gone, you lay there, running hands over his arms and watching the sweat drip down his temples. 

Every slide of his cock kisses the very end of you. Your hips move and twist on their own accord and you have no choice but to cry out into the night sky. 

“Takin’ this–this big cock like a good girl, yeah?” Joel groans, watching his cock plunge in and out of your little hole. “Need you–fuck, need you to say you’re mine, baby.” 

“I–I’m yours, sir,” you whine, feeling a twinge in your core, “yours, yours, yours.” 

You dig your fingers in his neck and drag him down for a kiss. He grunts as you bite deep enough to draw blood. 

The thoughts from earlier, about running away from him, leave your mind. Even if it hurts a little, even if you aren’t prepared to be a wife, this is exactly what you need. And you won’t let anyone else have him.

“You gonna cum, girl? Gonna cum on your husband’s big cock?” 

This time he doesn’t stop you. His hand squeezes your neck and he traps you into the ground, pistoning his hips into your slick cunt. Your oxygen lessens and your cumming, numbness and white heat spreading throughout your body. 

“Just like that, baby,” Joel growls, “soak my cock.” 

You're gushing on him, painting the hair at his base with sticky juices. You tremble in his arms and claw at the hand that squeezes your neck. Joel doesn’t let up, fucking into your limp body, loving the way you mewl underneath him.  

He moves in short thrusts, stiffening and letting out an animalistic grunt into the night sky. He presses his head into your neck, sucking and biting into your soft skin while he spills his seed inside of you.

"Take my cum, baby. Take it, take it," Joel moans.

You clench around him, massage his cock with your inner muscles. Every drop of his cum belongs deep inside of you. 

With the little strength left in your body, you run your fingers through his hair. Joel's hands move to grip your thighs and he grinds down, spilling the last of his cum into your cunt.

"You belong to me," Joel whispers. "Don’t ever run again."

You lay there in the grass, breasts bare and pussy full of your husband's cock.

"I won’t," you promise. 

Joel leans back and slowly slips out. There’s a twinge of red mixed with his cum that he wipes up with your ripped panties. He lays down next to you and brings you in close so that your head is placed on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat and the sounds of crickets around you.

You think about the long way back to Joel's–well now your house too–and then you remember exactly where the two of you are.

"Sir, we're outside of the gates what if something or someone comes–we don't have any weapons–"

“There’s another gate a few miles out," he interrupts, "I installed it for extra protection around this place.” 

You drop your head on his chest from relief and exhaustion. Joel rubs a hand down your back and squeezes your arm. 

“I’d never put you in harm's way, pretty girl.”

-

general taglist: iloved1lfs0

ps: i know that there has been other cult leader!joel fics but in no way shape or form have i copied those works for this. if there is something major in my work that sounds similar to someone else's, it's purely by coincidence. i respect each person who takes time out of their day to write FREE content and the last thing i'd do is steal their storylines 🤍🤍🤍

[machinemonstrosity]

hjust a qusetion but , would you consider writing for the minions of mafioso's...... im really fond of them freaks << 3 3 33 .

WARNINGS - NONE , silly headcanons for mafioso's henchmen , technically not an x reader but i don't know how else to tag it

a/n - i didn't know what to write since there's nothing about these guys other than one render......i'll write more next time, i promise! working through mobile sucks so i apologize if the image sizes and qualities are bad.

Mafioso's henchmen act like goofy cartoon villain sidekicks. While they can be serious and will get the job done, most of the time people are wondering how they even got into the mafia in the first place. They're a capable group of minions — just not the best in terms of scare factor.

To conceal their actual names, they nicknamed themselves with numbers. They also thought it sounded cooler.

ONE (1)

Out of everyone who tried to puff out their chest to claim the title, 1 received it due to being the oldest and most skilled of the group.

He's the most reasonable and level-headed of the henchmen, although that doesn't mean much. They all tend to bounce the same brain cell around like a game of hot potato.

The most stubborn when it comes to the gang's shenanigans and plans. Yet every time, without fail, he'll still cave and tag along. “Can't let the rest of ‘em get in trouble without me.” As he says.

He doesn't really express as much emotion as the others, but he will crack a noticeable smile or chuckle on occasion. Catching 1 letting out a full-on laugh is rare, normally only being something that happens with the rest of the minions. You're doing something right if he laughs around you.

TWO (2)

King of being competitive. Will absolutely take every small achievement or victory of his as a challenge to do better, especially if it's other people's. It happens to be playfully mutual among the others.

2 beats everyone at knife fights. Including 1.

He has a tendency to be the instigator of chaos. When they're inevitably caught causing a ruckus, all fingers are instantly pointing to him. Everyone still gets punished for it despite the snitching.

The tallest of the group. The running joke is that the tophat is the only reason for his placement on the height chart.

THREE (3)

The loudest of the group and the first to humor a terrible idea. That crowbar is always itching to be used.

3 is very short-tempered. He was unofficially banned from handling interrogations as the result of a group vote. The incident still isn't discussed to this day and is somehow still hidden from Mafioso.

Normally the last to show up for duty. This guy is an absolute night owl and stays up until the early hours of the morning. 

Magically, laundry duty always falls onto 3. Very cruel magic that has the other henchmen giggling and smiling like kids in a candy store. Laundry day rotations are basically nonexistent now.

FOUR (4)

Being the youngest of the group, 4 is a certified rookie. It gets him picked on sometimes, but it's all in good fun.

Surprisingly, he's only the second shortest of the group.

One of the most unconvincing gang members the world has ever seen. 4 is friendly to a fault, having gotten into multiple sticky situations in his naivety. His inexperience is sympathized with, but the boys are trying their hardest to toughen him up a bit.

No matter how many times the henchmen get asked about why they joined the mafia, 4 is the only one who never gives an answer.

Around you, the boys would be total sweethearts! They have one rule: if the big boss is alright with you, it's a pass in their book, too. Whether they were ordered to or not, they'll insist on keeping a careful eye on you and ensuring you're safe and sound. Escorts and free lunch are your new normal.

It may be a bit overbearing at times, but their hearts are in the right places.

Just know it won't be them answering the call if you get hurt. At that point, they're only the messengers.

[hughiecampbelle]

Imagine being Hughies older sibling whose a doctor and Butcher instantly liking you:

Requested: anon

"Get out of my way."

Butcher had never been talked to like that before. Immediately, he liked you. He took a step back, giving you your space. The wound wasn't bad, but it didn't mean you were happy about it. The stitches were done quickly, messily, and your brother would probably have a scar, but he was alert, his breathing was normal, he was even making jokes. "Don't you ever do this to me again." You say, your words hostile, but your tone petrified. You were scared out of your mind, covered in Hughies blood. You were used to blood. You worked with blood. But when it was seeping into your couch, your clothes, hemorrhaging from your brother, it left you rattled. They didn't know where else to go, though. Hughie told them your address and they followed instructions. He knew going to the hospital was out of the question, they'd ask too many questions none of them could answer. So, you were the next best option.

"Promise, it won't happen again." He smiles. The painkillers you gave him were finally setting in. You placed your hand against his forehead, wiping off the blood. You and Hughie were always close growing up. You took care of him, he was your baby brother after all. You and him and your father were all you had. They supported you when you went through medical school and your father couldn't have been prouder of your career. As soon as you got your white coat your father changed your contact name to Dr. Campbell. After Robin was killed, you sort of became estranged. He disappeared more often, took longer to text back, rarely returned your phone calls. Then, a few months ago, he appeared out of the blue and told you everything. He couldn't keep it a secret anymore. The guilt was eating him alive. He didn't want to hurt you anymore, it was bad enough he was keeping it from Dad. So, you listened. No judgement, or yelling, just listening. You never thought it would lead to this, though.

"You," You say, turning your attention towards Butcher. "If you ever put his life in danger again, I will personally perform an autopsy on you while you're still alive. Got it?" You weren't like Hughie. You were bossy, and sarcastic, and crude. You didn't put up with any bullshit and you wouldn't let anyone get away with it, either, especially not Butcher. The last time you met, weeks ago, Hughie came to warn you, tell you about what was going to happen, that you might need to leave for a little while for your own safety. You refused. Butcher tried talking to you, but you were only interested in what Hughie had to say. You didn't like the looks of Butcher. Now, you actually had a reason not to. But he liked you. You were smart, you had an attitude, and you weren't afraid of him. He wanted to talk to you, to show his interest, but it was never the right time. Especially not now.

"Understood."

[starkwlkr]

fever dream | sebastian vettel

part 2 part 3

warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)

update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!

AN: THIS SAYS THAT SEB AND THE READER WERE TEAM MATES FOR 2014 AND 2015 THATS A MISTAKE SORRY I ONLY MEANT TO PUT 2014 😭

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liked by lewishamilton, yoursistersaccount and 24 others

yourusername a short trip back home 🤍

lewishamilton enjoy it!

yourusername thanks lew! miss you and roscoe 🤍

lewishamilton roscoe and i miss you more

yoursistersaccount it’s great to have you home

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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”

but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.

“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.

“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.

“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.

“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”

“alison!”

the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.

“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.

“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”

“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.

“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.

“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.

“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”

or a mother.

only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.

you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.

“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”

you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.

“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.

“hello?”

[frudoo]

I’m so soft for Simon today y’all.

Warnings: Slight angst—lots of crying. Hurt/comfort. Brief mentions of abuse but nothing specific. Overuse of italics lmaooo. Fem!Reader. Simon is sad :(

“Love?”

Simon’s been quiet ever since the two of you left the Garricks’ house. Kyle’s wife had cooked a lovely dinner, and afterwards everybody moved to chat in the living room. Your friends’ kiddos had been climbing over you and loving on you all night, jumping in your lap or begging you to play games with them. That’s when you noticed your husband’s frown—you had just assumed his social battery had run out, but looking back now, none of the signs were there. No short temper, no irritability, no desperate glances over to you trying to convey that he was ready to leave. Now, as you both lay in bed, he speaks for the first time in what feels like hours.

“Yeah, Si? Everything okay?”

He sucks in a deep breath, and you frown. Your husband has never been one to hold his tongue. It makes your heart pound with worry as you reach over to turn your bedside lamp on. Before you get the chance to turn and face him, he wraps his burly arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You gently raise your hand to scratch the back of his head, fingernails grazing his scalp.

“D’you ever regret marryin’ me?” His voice is so small, carrying the weight of uncertainty and the fear that you’ll tell him exactly what he’s expecting to hear, to break him further.

Your fingers stall their movements and you forget how to breathe all of a sudden. Simon’s breath is labored against your neck, too hot to be normal, too wet to be anything other than the telltale sign of him about to break down. It’s a rarity that he cries, but when he does, it’s the most excruciating thing you can imagine. You can feel his pain like it’s your own. The second his first teardrop falls onto your skin, you finally turn to look at him.

His deep brown eyes are far too glossy for your liking, long blond lashes clumped together by morsels of liquid lies his brain forces him to believe.

“Never,” you frown, rubbing the tip of your thumb over the cleft separating his top lip. “Oh, sugar, what’s brought this on?”

“Y’deserve better than me,” his voice breaks mid-sentence, raspy and raw. “Someone who can- who can make y’happy. Give y’things tha’ I can’t.”

You lean forward to nuzzle your nose against his, gently locking lips with him in a short, tender kiss. You sigh into his mouth, uncaring of the snot and spittle that runs down his face. You’re just about there with him.

“You do make me happy, Simon Riley,” the whispered promise gently whisks across his face like an autumn breeze, refreshing yet not enough to calm his racing brain. “You’ve given me everything I could ask for and more.”

“No. You’ve… you’ve had t’make too many sacrifices f’me, and I don’t deserve tha’. I fucked y’over, and- and stomped on your dreams.”

“Simon, you haven’t-”

“You’d make such a good mum.”

Your mouth snaps shut, teeth grinding together from the sudden motion. Motherhood is a soft spot for you, and he knows it. When Simon first brought up the idea of marriage, he had made it clear that he didn’t want kids—too much risk of him ending up like his father, he explained. It broke your heart, but the thought of living a life where he wasn’t yours hurt far worse. In favor of being his wife, you pushed away the desire to have children, counting on being an auntie or something equivalent to your friends’ little ones.

You bite your lip, trying to blink back tears. He’s just saying this out of hurt.

“Seein’ y’with Gaz’s kids jus’...” Simon trails off, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You’re so sweet with ‘em. Fuckin’- you- you’re perfection, lovie, and you’re settlin’ for a monster like me.”

The tears don’t cease this time. A weak sob rips from your throat, and you dig your nails into his bicep to make him listen.

“You are not a monster. Y-you’re the love of my life,” your lip quivers, hurt evident in your tone. “I married you because I love you, Simon. Because I see what’s beneath the surface. You’re gentle, you’re caring—Si, you’re beautiful. You’re a good person, even if you can’t see it. I see it.”

“I wanna see it,” he murmurs, swallowing hard. “Wanna be better f’you.”

You shake your head softly, a sad smile stretching your lips as you wipe your tears. Pressing your forehead against his, you intertwine fingers with him.

“You’d make an amazing dad.”

It’s Simon’s turn to tense up, squeezing your hand a little tighter but not near enough to hurt—it just proves to you further what a sweet person he can be, that he is underneath his Ghost persona. You’ve never met Ghost, Simon absolutely refuses to let you see the side of him that the rest of the world does, but you know in your bones that even he wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head.

“Love, no, I-I can’t- no. I couldn’t live w’myself if… if I-”

“The fact that you’re so afraid of doing anything wrong is what makes me certain you’d be incredible,” you interrupt, pulling back to look at him sternly, although the fondness that hides in your eyes softens the blow.

“Wha’ if I end up hurtin’ ‘em? Get mad at ‘em and- and I hurt m’own child,” he gasps softly, nervously rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Bullshit. You would never. Si, you couldn’t even bring yourself to kill the moles in our yard, and you expect me to believe that you could lay a hand on a—your child?” You scoff, cupping his scarred face in your hands and moving to straddle him.

“Lovie, m’not a good man,” he frowns, leaning into the soft warmth of your palms. “Got m’father’s DNA-”

“Stop that. You are nothing like that man. I don’t give a fuck what it is you do out on the field, but you have never once brought it into our home,” you huff, hands shaking slightly. “You know the difference between your enemies and your family even on your worst days. That’s more than you could say for your father.”

Your skin is tacky with his tears that continue to fall even when he’s rendered silent. Gently, you redirect his arms so that they wrap around your waist, warm and sturdy.

“I know you’re scared,” you whisper, tenderly rubbing his temples with your thumbs. “But have I ever lied to you?”

“Never,” Simon admits quietly, sniffling.

“Then believe me when I tell you I’m not lying now. You’re a good man, Simon Riley—to me, to your friends, and you will be to our kids. I swear it.”

He’s stubbornly avoiding your gaze, and you can tell he’s genuinely thinking about it. Gently, you press a kiss to the tip of his crooked nose.

“Let’s go to bed, hm? Sleep on it, baby,” you suggest, nuzzling your face into his neck.

You feel him nod and pull you down so that you’re laying on top of him—a comforting blanket of love that he needs you to remind him he deserves. He reaches over to turn your bedside lamp back off again, reveling in the cool darkness that engulfs the two of you.

“I love you,” he mutters, tracing random patterns along your back with his calloused fingertips.

“I love you more, big guy.”

[lostwrlds]

hiii this is my first ask im a lil nervy hehe um im not sure if ur requests are open iii tried looking and couldn't find it anywhere so if they're not im sorry!! but i think a rly cute lil drabble could be like. reo (if u write him!) with an s/o that was raised significantly less well off than him. like lower lower class, but she's not with him for status, obv! i think it'd be cute if i dunno they're hanging out and she's talking abt some event from her childhood that she thought was totally normal and reo's like ml.... wtf is wrong with u

that or like! maybe they're dating and she's always been hesitant to bring him to her house bc she knows how reo lives and she's like well,, what if he hates me afterwards. but he insists on visiting and reassuring her that he's not like. shallow and nasty abt it i dunno

feel free to ignore this if it's not hitting! i do not mind, i really like ur blog anyhow and i hope ur well! kiss kiss

no matter what  ─ reo mikage .ᐟ

summary ✩ ! in the sweet breeze of spring, reo mikage reassures you that he'll like you...no, love you, no matter what difference is between your worlds. no matter what. 1.5K

✩ cw; fluff, all characters are adults, afab!reader, minors, blank & ageless blogs do not interact. mwah mwah thank you for taking the time to send an ask and for your request, lovie! i hope you enjoy! sorry it took me so long to get to it! >_<

── © LOSTWRLDS ╱ 2025.

“promise you won’t laugh.” 

your voice is quiet, gentle like the breeze that rustles through reo’s amethyst locks as you walk together — side by side. it’s your fourth official date, fifth if you count the lunch you shared at his soccer practice the other day, where you'd made him the cutest little homemade bento full of his favourite snacks. either way, the pro player is happy to be by your side this evening, to watch the sunset glow halo your silhouette and the way your shoulders hunch beneath the sliding straps of your sundress each time you laugh under your breath. he liked this dress on you, it’s perfect for the weather. 

“i swear, i won’t!” reo insists, reaching out to fix your strap with a delicate touch that strays no further than the bare skin of your shoulders. you twitch underneath his rough fingertips as they graze you — you’re nervous and your skittish behaviour gives up your jig. ever since you met him, you’ve never been one to shy away from the purple haired player — bold and confident as ever, that’s how you got him hooked like this. the look you give him is a curious mix of bashfulness and fear, you’ve got nothing to worry about; so he does his best to reassure you. “c’mon, you know i'm not that type of guy…”

tonight, you’d invited him over to your place and allowed him to walk you home. he knows it’s a big deal for you, that you secretly worry your background and home life won’t appease him as someone raised in the comfort of the top one percent. but reo doesn’t care, he’s dated rich girls and even richer older women but none of them have a heart of gold like you do. they’re all bitter and callous, cruel with all of their riches and ridiculous spending. 

if anything, you’re a nice pace and change from the spoiled, snobby lifestyle he’s accustomed too.

“i've got siblings, you know. the place is always crowded,” you quip, burying your fears under amusement — turning away from reo to stare out into the setting sun.

“doesn’t matter, my place was always quiet growing up. ‘m sure i’ll appreciate the company,” he shakes his head, fingers cascading down your arms as if to stop you from pulling away. his deep, alluring eyes trace over every part of you, drinking you in under the setting sun as if to commit you to memory — reo doesn’t want to let this go or let this end. he wants you in his life, no matter what that may look like. “how many?” 

nerves get the best of you and you avoid his gaze, swallowing the thick claggy lump in your throat as best as you can. you find his presence in your life intimidating, yet comfortingly constant. you’re so afraid of the disparities between your backgrounds, how much more the soccer player has and was raised with, compared to yourself. he had it all and you had enough to get by, living semi-comfortably. logically, you know if reo mikage were to judge you, he’d be a narcissistic and privileged piece of crap.

but you don’t do that, you don’t want to have to give him up because of that. you like reo and you so selfishly want to keep him. “two.” comes your shaky reply and you stop walking, taking up space on the sidewalk as the man holds you close. “and the dishwasher  is broken but i swear we’re trying to replace it,” the excuses flow without you really meaning to let them out — rushing like a river. if he really cared about what you have and don’t have he’d have given up on this and the very end of your first date… but reo mikage wants you so bad, he refuses to acknowledge any out that you give him.

“hey, look at me,” tutting, reo releases one of your arms to grasp at your chin using a thumb and forefinger — cocking his head to the side as he leans down to your height. trying to see you, attempting to understand you. the gesture makes you clam up and attempt to squirm away, but he’s stronger and faster than you. you’re not going to run this time. “i know that you think i’m some kind of rich snob—“ 

“— i don't,”  you cut him off in an attempt at being firm, heat flaring under your skin with shame whilst you try to shake it away with your head moving side to side. “i-i’m not trying to make you feel that way—!”

the air to mikage corp and the most understanding, caring man you’ve ever met only smiles softly, tutting at you with an air of fondness. “let me finish, and then you can tell me how you feel after, okay?” reo hums carefully, looking you in the eye with the hopes that you can trust him. “i’ll be the first to admit, i grew up rich and spoiled. guys like me are always born with a silver spoon in their mouths… so that i could have anything and anyone that i wanted,” he begins, pushing the words around his mouth with his tongue and navigating how to be honest and firm with you. how to properly communicate his feelings to you without scaring you off. 

the spring-like and floral scented breeze carries his words right through you, touching your heart as the soccer player speaks thoughtfully. “but i promise you? i’m not anymore. i want you, want to prove that i’m worthy of you. it doesn’t matter that we’ve come from different worlds and i don't care that things are broken or your home is always loud,” reo hesitates, nerves surrounding the beating organ in his chest because he never pictured this — pouring his heart out on the pavement while he walks the person he likes home. “none of that,  all of it… it doesn’t matter to me. i like you. like seriously. i don’t need you to have grown up the same as me for us to work. i like you, no matter what.”

a beat of silence passes between you, only broken up by passing cars and the wafting laughter of people enjoying the warmth of the spring evening. “do you mean it? are you okay with… everything?” you ask tentatively, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

reo swipes a thumb over the bottom one, stopping you from hurting yourself. “i do, i want to visit your home and see where you grew up. where you became this person that i like so much,” he says, treading lightly, as if not to spook you. “but only when you’re ready,” 

the sincerity decorating the cadence in your voice tells you that he means it and you believe it too. reo wouldn’t abandon you because you don’t cover yourself in twenty-four carat gold, just as you wouldn’t leave him if he one day lost it all. standing on your tippy toes, you press a kiss to his nose and grin when his face scrunches adorably in surprise.

“i’m ready, i want this. for you to see my home.”

and with that, you open your heart and your world to reo mikage. he walks you to your place and is polite in closing the front gate while you sift through your purse for your house keys. he greets your mum at the threshold as he toes off his shoes, who’d turned from your worn down kitchen at the end of the hall after hearing your familiar voice and jingling keychains. reo bumps fists and shakes hands with your siblings and teases them playfully — dubbing himself ‘the boyfriend’ once you reach the landing on the first floor, having been stopped by them on your way to the bedroom.

he likes the business, the family photos hanging on faded painted walls and the creek in your floorboards and the whining of your bedroom door. your bed feels loved and slept in, the mattress holding your shape. he detects it when he sinks into it after sitting down. the rest of your evening is spent recounting memories of your home, how you were raised and all the times you’d left the nest for work and uni and exploring the world.

it’s only when an inky black sky replaces the orange coloured sunset outside that you pause to ask. “what do you think?” fiddling with reo’s large hands as he snuggles up to you on your adorable single bed. 

“i love it, it’s full of memories. feels safe and like home.” the purple haired player comments wistfully, linking your fingers before he brings them up to his lips. “i wish i grew up in some place like this.” 

reo kisses you on the back of your hand and this time you don’t shy away, accepting his affections like you’ve accepted sharing the intimate parts of your home life with him. “maybe one day, we’ll have a place like this. fill it with our own family and memories.” comes your timid offer.

“yeah?” reo smiles, practically saying ‘yes’ already and his heart sings at the thought of a future like this. with you.

tucking yourself into his side, your head nuzzled safely under his chin, you hum in content. “yeah.” 

and then, reo mikage makes you a promise. the cross my heart and hope to fly kind of promise, the kind of promise imbued into a ring that he’ll probably get for you, someday — squeezing you close with no intention of letting you go. “then, i’ll make that happen for you, no matter what.”

RIGHTS RESERVED © LOSTWRLDS 2025. the content seen here belongs to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

Hello!

Can I request for a yandere Hualian x reader but reader is actually okay with their behavior?

I do not Mind

Hualian x gn!reader

Heyyy... 😔🙏 I've been gone for ever again, I love y'all🩷 I swear. A little nervous about this one because how far is too far with a yandere 😥 like some readers want their yandere to murder someone for them some people just want them to be obsessive... Comment and tell me if it's too much y'all, I'll edit it.

Also I'm very unfamiliar with yandere territory so! I don't know if I'm able to capture them quite well😐!!!

____________________________________

It started innocently enough, your relationship with them. You've never had two boyfriends before but you found yourself enjoying it. How could you not? They love you and care for you. Xie Lian was so sweet and gentle with you, always caring. Hua Cheng is protective and devoted to you, so loving. Some people are lucky enough to find a good man, you were lucky enough to find two of them. Maybe your luck is better than Hua Cheng's.

All had been going well, it was like any normal relationship! You guys would go out on dates, you would all spend time with one another, care for one another, gift things, give affection, and of course have sex. Normal, healthy relationships. Arguments were few to none and it felt like you were in a state of bliss, contentment. It was... Well it was perfect.

So perfect, and so content that it took you quite a while to notice when strange things were starting to happen. It wasn't mind boggling, just different. Hua Cheng's devotion to you his protectiveness seemed to become tenfold, and Xie Lian's caring nature -while you loved him for it- seemed directed to keep you in their sights. It was not unusual for you all to go separate ways throughout the day, but suddenly you needed to be near one of them at all times. Even if you were going out with some friends, one of them or both of them would come along. You didn't mind you like spending time with your lovers, so you think nothing of it. You thought maybe these incidents were just coincidental.

For starters, for some reason you just can't bring yourself to leave, you feel faint and dizzy when you try to leave the doors of your alls home. So you don't leave, you tell your lovers you feel unwell and stay mostly in bed. It's strange though... As soon as you leave the proximity of the doors you feel well again. And another thing! Your lovers have been all over you. You enjoy it of course, you love them dearly but they're acting very needy. As more days pass you find Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are always attached to your hip. You're half sure your hand is stuck in a curled position from holding Hua Cheng's hand all the time!

Hua Cheng had always been devoted to you and Xie Lian but it's been more like... Admiration! Obsession. He'll follow you around everywhere and if he can't there's always silver butterflies resting in your hair, they're cute so you can't complain. He'll stare at you with his one eye, all day! You found he's been making piles of drawings of you in many different ways, and even a statue or two here and there. That's really suspicious. Maybe he's just really taken the time to admire you! He loves art after all, and maybe you've become his muse.

Oh and Xie Lian, don't even get started on him! His "selfless" nature and the feeling of going out of his way for you? It's a too cute! much. You need to go out to town? Oh he'll go get it don't worry about it, stay home. Oh you haven't seen your friends? No worries he'll update them that you aren't feeling well! Every little thing you want or need seems to be taken care of by them. Just stay here, don't leave stay home, don't leave get some rest. Don't leave.

That's not even to mention when they both gang up on you. The need for validation. "Do you love us?", "Aren't we good to you?", "Are you happy here?", "Will you stay?", "Promise, promise promise".

You've been cooped up for quite a while, and of course you don't stay cooped up all the time. You go out to ghost city with Xie Lian and Hua Cheng! Your friends must miss you though because one of them come to check on you. When you talk to them, they seem quite worried, pale faced. "Do you need help..?" Why would you need that? Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have been taking care of you. They dote and spoil you all the time, honestly you've barely noticed how long it's been since you've been isolated anywhere near the heavens, or spent time with anyone else! You want to reassure them but Xie Lian ushers you away from the door, to the bedroom. He just doesn't want you to leave feel faint again, so just let Hua Cheng talk to them. What a caring lover!

When Hua Cheng comes back to the bedroom he doesn't mention anything, he must have sent your friend off. How sweet. So sweet you don't notice anything amiss. Definitely not the red splatter on his cheek. How would you notice any of it when most of it blends in with his clothing anyhow? E-ming rattles in the sheath.

So yes, it has been strange these past couple of months. Although it did take you a little while to even notice, although you can be quite oblivious, you are not stupid. You are not blind. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian's attitudes have changed to clingy, and obsessed. Your dizziness these past few weeks is most definitely because of the strange incense you keep smelling near the doors of your home, and the seals that have been placed in obscure places. You don't find yourself minding these things. You love them, their attention, their clinginess, their obsession and love.

So no you don't pay mind to the frequent disappearances of other gods whom you're acquainted with. You pay no mind to Hua Cheng's, or Xie Lian's robes having to be washed because of stains, you stay naive to E-ming needing to be cleaned so often. In fact you welcome it.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng must know that you know too because they don't try to hide it anymore. Their needy questions and need for validation have become demands. Sweet ones, so how could you ever resist them, when they obviously love you so, so much?

You can't

____________________________________

So how do we feel guys? First time I think I've ever written yandere stuff so this is very unfamiliar territory I'm welcome to criticism!

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 17

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Chapter 17

“Wow!” Y/n looks around in awe. “Are farmers markets always this big?” 

“Jeju does a mix of a farmers market and a craft fair.” Minho smiles as he holds her hand to make sure she doesn’t leave his side. “Most of the booths are venders from the island but some do come from the mainland too, why it’s so big.”

“Make sure to stay close to us at all times, princess.” Hyunjin smiles down at her as they start to walk into the busy crowd. 

“Are we sure it’s a good idea to have Hyunjin in the sun after he got sunburned at the beach the other day?” She looks up at the beta’s still red cheeks.

“I made him put sunscreen on today.” Minho reassured her. 

“More like had Chan and Changbin hold me down while you applied it.” Hyunjin grumbles, crossing his arms.

“What are we looking for specifically?” The omega looks around feeling that with all the booths that are set up one of them will have whatever you are looking for.

“Right now we’re not looking for anything specific.” Hyunjin grabs her other hand. “That’s what’s great about craft fairs, you might find something you didn’t know you were needing. If something catches your eye just let us know.”

“The only thing we do need is I’m wanting to get a few things for dinner tonight but we’ll grab those things closer to being done here.” Minho says while looking around them. 

“What are you planning on making?” Hyunjin looks at the alpha.

“I was thinking some bibimbap and kimchi stew.”

“God I love your kimchi stew.” He hums, already excited for dinner when it’s still late morning.

They walk around the craft fair for a while, stopping at many booths. Y/n bought a few nick-nacks for her room to personalize it to be more her with some of the cash Chan had given her. Hyunjin of course tried to buy everything she thought was remotely interesting, which she deemed wasn't necessary, but she did let him buy her a few pieces of art for her room. 

As the omega and beta look at some more art pieces, Minho walks off to one of the handmade jewelry booths. He gazes over them carefully but none really catch his eye until he sees a few necklaces with pendants made into shapes out of gemstones.

“I see you’re taking interest in these beautiful crystals.” The stall’s owner walks up to him, an older alpha male. “All of these are hand shaped by me in my workshop, one of a kind you could say. There are no two pendants alike.”

“Sweetheart, the poor boy doesn’t want to hear the long process of how you make them.” An older female omega places her hand on the man's chest with a small smile before looking at Minho. “Is there a certain piece of jewelry or maybe a shape you are looking for? Or a certain gemstone?”

“Ummm, I’m just kind of browsing. Though these are beautiful.” He looks over the pendants again, thinking about how Y/n would look wearing one of these.

The boys had all discussed collaring her at some point like they did with Felix after he came out as feeling more omega like. Hundreds of years ago collaring an omega normally meant they were your property but it changed to eventually mean a representation of love. Pack members normally gift an omega a collar as a form of a promise ring now and to show other alphas that the omega has a mate, or mates, if they can’t see the claiming bites. Though collars aren’t as common these days after the disease almost wiped omega’s out. Even though many alpha’s and packs have omega’s sold to them now, collars being a representation of love has not changed. 

“Are you looking for a piece of jewelry for someone specific?”

Minho hesitates before nodding. “Yeah, for one of my fated mates.” He looks up at the women before turning his head to where Hyunjin and Y/n are still browsing at another booth. “She’s our omega.”

The couple look towards the omega and beta that Minho is looking lovingly at with a smile. “She’s beautiful.”

“Have you thought of collaring her?” The male asks, making the younger turn back to them.

“We’ve discussed it but when we look at collars online none ever stick out to us as one we want to give her.”

“Well you don’t want to be giving her any of these necklaces, that’s all they are.” The man grabs a case from inside the booth and places it on the table. “We do have a special selection of collars though.”

Minho’s eyes widen when he opens the case showing many beautiful collars, the pendants all shaped differently and made of different gemstones.

“You know, crystals all have different meanings right? Almost like they have powers to help with different aspects you are needing in life.” The woman asks.

“I’ve heard of that.” He nods, even though he never really believed in the crystals being anything more than pretty rocks, he feels that Y/n might see them the same way as this omega does. “What do each one of these mean?”

“Son, they all have so many different meanings.” The male laughs. “But lucky for you my wife here always knows how to narrow down the crystal selection just by looking at the person it is meant for.”

His wife gazes at Y/n for a moment before looking at Minho with a sad smile. “She’s been through a lot hasn’t she?” He looks at her surprised. “Before she met your pack she wasn’t well loved or treated? I feel that she didn’t really come to terms with her omega representation until she met you guys huh? This is her first time experiencing a real pack dynamic.”

“How did you…?”

“I told you she’s good.” The alpha sighs, not happy with what his wife deduced from the girl.

“Based on that and the fact you guys are wanting to give the collar to her as more of a promise ring, I recommend either rose quarts or amethyst.” She points to the pendants that are blush pink, violet and purple. “Rose quartz is known as the ‘crystal of unconditional love’. It's associated with the heart chakra. A popular stone for attracting love and strengthening relationships as it can create trust, tolerance, and feelings of self-love. Amethyst is known as the stone of St. Valentine, a symbol of faithful loves. A popular choice for those seeking a soulmate, it can balance emotions and bring a sense of calm.”

As Minho listens he looks at all the pendants closely, he feels more drawn to the amethysts. Many of the pendants are shaped like hearts, animals, moons, stars and so much more. He finally sees one that's a bit hidden behind two hearts and he grabs it to see that it’s a shape of a compass rose.

“This one.” Minho feels it deep down that the others will also agree that it’s the one.

“Perfect choice.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The three walk through the farmers market area, the males already carrying a few bags of ingredients for dinner, Y/n just following along with a smile as she admires everything. She then spots a booth selling little desserts that are being made fresh on little gas stoves. 

“What are those they’re making?” She stops near the booth watching as one person works a stove with a fish mold on it, and another frying what looked to be little pancakes.

“They’re making bungeoppangs and hotteoks.” Minho explains watching the girl rather than the chefs.

“Have you seriously never had them before?” Hyunjin looks at her shocked when she shakes her head no. “Man, your family really deprived you of a lot.”

“Well let's get some then.” Minho walks over to the booth and orders them each a fish shaped pastry and a small basket of the sweet pancakes. 

They walk over to a small rest area with tables set up for people to sit and eat. 

“Eat the hotteoks first. They’re better warm.” Hyunjins already digging into his mini pancakes as Minho watches her waiting to see her reaction to the desserts.

She takes a bite and her eyes light up. “These are amazing.” She takes another bite before she has even finished chewing the first one. 

“Slow down, kitten.” Minho warns as he now eats his. “Don’t want you to choke.”

She blushes and slows down, eating the rest of the pancakes before moving on to the fish shaped pastry. She takes a bite but doesn’t have the same reaction to it as she did the hotteok.

“It’s good, but I like the hotteoks better.”

“I figured you would.” Hyunjin nods with a smile watching her eat the bungeoppang. 

“I’ll make you some homemade hotteoks whenever you want.” Minho smiles.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist is closed for a bit as I am unable to tag anymore right now

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[nvxzaa]

── .✦ Simple thing

Masterlist

Pairing : Han Jisung x reader

Word : 828

Genre : fluff

Warning : none

It had been a year and a half since they'd been together. A year and a half since Han had fallen in love with a girl like few others: Yn. A girl so simple it was almost disconcerting.

She never wore brand names, never went crazy for luxury items, never asked for anything. She lived with little, and was sincerely happy about it. That was the beauty of it. The most disarming. Han, who had seen it all, experienced it all, owned it all... he'd been marked by it. By this simplicity that could not be faked. Yn calculated nothing. She was content with what she had, and she did it with such touching naturalness that it was enough to turn his heart inside out.

And yet, despite that-or because of it-she hadn't wanted him at first.

"You're an idol, Han."

She'd looked him straight in the eye as she said this, arms crossed and face serious.

"You're just the opposite of me. I have a normal life. I'm simple. You don't need someone like me."

But he'd just smiled. Because he already knew he wanted her. He hadn't let go. He'd insisted, redoubled his efforts, found a thousand excuses to bump into her, a thousand pretexts to talk to her. It had taken weeks for her simply to give him her number, and even longer for her to agree to see him again. And today, every second spent with her reminded him why he'd fought. Yn was his peace.

That day, he received a call in the middle of the afternoon.

- Hello?" he answered, his voice still a little sleepy.

- Han... I've got something to ask you. A bit embarrassing...

From her voice alone, he knew she was uncomfortable.

- Have you been crying? What's the matter, baby?" he asked, straightening up on his bed.

- No... no, it's nothing serious. I'm just embarrassed to ask you this.

- Don't worry, tell me.

A little silence.

- Would you like to... buy me something? I'm really sorry to ask this, I swear I'll pay you back as soon as I can. But I don't have any change on me, and my mom took my card...

Han frowned, confused.

- Wait, what? Your mother took your card? But you're over 18, you've been vaccinated, you're working, you've got your own income, how can she take away your bank card?

- I don't know... it's my mother. She says I make too many successive purchases... successive? Is that how you say it?

- ...Yeah, I think so," he replied, smiling in spite of himself.

- There you go. So she took my card. And I just wanted to buy a little something. I swear, it's nothing. And I'll give you the money back, I promise.

Han breathed softly.

- Yn... you've got to stop apologizing for existing, you know. Come to the dormitory. I'll give you my card. And you don't have to pay me back.

- Are you sure...?

- I'm in love, not stupid. Come on.

A little later, she arrived at the dormitory in an old hoodie that hung over her shoulders, a crumpled tote bag in her hand. He opened the door and immediately drew her into his arms. She snuggled in without saying a word. Her perfume smelled of fresh sheets and hand cream. He kissed her hair before taking out his card.

- Here. Go buy your "little things". Take your time.

She left after a final kiss on his cheek.

He received no messages for two hours. Then she returned, exactly as she had left. Except that she was holding a large glass jar in her arms, which she placed carefully on the table before handing him back his card.

- Thanks Han...

- Stop it... tell me what you bought.

- Felt-tip pens," she replied with a small smile.

- ...Felt-tips?

- Yeah, felt-tips. All mine are dead. They're for coloring. And... I made something for you.

She gently pushed the glass jar towards him. Inside, hundreds of tiny pink paper hearts, all meticulously folded, filled the jar to the rim.

- A heart for every day I've thought of you. Right from the start. I used to make them on the sly, on the nights you didn't sleep at home, when you were on tour, or in the studio.

He stood there, mouth open, completely flabbergasted.

- You used my card... to buy markers?

- Well, yes. I told you it wasn't much...

He looked at her, then at the jar, then at her again. Then, without a word, he stood up to take her in his arms, squeezing her so hard she had to tell him to breathe.

- You have no idea how much I love you.

- If you keep squeezing like that, I won't even have enough air left to say "me too", she murmured with a smile.

He laughed softly against her, his heart swelling with quiet, immense, simple love - just like her.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack: Chapter 6

Trigger Warnings: none

The journey home was insatiable. It was awkward and quiet. Seungmin had even attempted to turn on the radio while he drove back but Felix turned it off with a huff. There were too many thoughts going around his head. Why did Minho bring her to his home? Why couldn't Minho have warned him? What is she thinking? Does she hate humans? Is Olivia going to pry? What's mum going to think? Felix felt stressed and conflicted. He wasn't annoyed at Y/N whatsoever but the situation put pressure on him. "So how's Chan hyung?" Seungmin asked as he put a dent in the awkward silence. "Jaehee's breaking his bones today. He's not healing. She's worried one of the wolves may have had a poisonous bite and that's caused Chan to struggle to fight the infection and heal." Minho answered plainly as he played with Y/N's hand. Minho looked up and gave her a soft smile as he squeezed her hand. "Why didn't Jaehee pick this up before?" Seungmin asked, there was concern in his voice as he thought about the weeks his alpha was suffering. Minho sighed and looked out of the window. "Because Chan is stubborn. He didn't want Y/N to worry so he's been trying to fight it. He even asked me to try and cut parts out of his leg." Minho stated. "You did what?" Y/N asked worriedly. "I told him it was stupid," Minho muttered. "The things you do for love!" Seungmin clicked his tongue. "Oh. You want to talk about doing things for love. The last time you did something for love you nearly killed yourself." Minho growled, smacking the younger beta's head.

Y/N could see Minho really cared about the younger wolf despite his aggression towards him. It made Y/N smile as she saw the beta glare through the wing mirror. "If puppy asked to sacrifice me in a ritual I would do it," Seungmin stated proudly while the three of them looked at him with concern. They were slightly disturbed by the confession. "That's not normal Minnie," Y/N stated. "She's right," Felix added. "What? It doesn't matter. Anyways. My love is exclusively for Y/N only." Seungmin answered causing them to roll their eyes, but the concern of Seungmin's confession didn't go unnoticed by Minho. Minho was aware of Seungmins intense emotions but he was worried about how this would lie with Y/N, because once Seungmin becomes obsessed he never lets it go. As soon as Seungmin is fixated on something, he will not stop until it's deep within his grasp. It worried Minho and right now Y/N seemed oblivious to it. She seemed unfazed by his words as if he joked about them a lot, and he did make slight comments about her. About owning her. It was strange, but Minho didn't want to alarm anyone, not yet at least, but was it Seungmin he needed to worry about or another wolf in the house?

Seungmin pulled up to the side of the house, parking next to Chan's car before snacking his car door against Chan's car. "Careful." Minho grumbled, causing the beta to shrug. Y/N shook her head and got out of the car noticing Hyunjins car had gone. "He's gone to the shops with Jisung to get you a phone," Minho said. "A phone?" Y/N was confused. "Yeah, because how else are you supposed to know where we are if we're late? It's also easier for you to get a hold of us without using one of us." Minho explained. "Oh." Y/N nodded as she shut the door. "Wait," Felix called as he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards him so that he could embrace her. His head fell straight into her neck tightly. "Felix!" Y/N cooed as she stroked his hair affectionately. "I can explain. Hear me out. There's a reason I never told you and you probably worked it out when you smelt them. And I never wanted them to know or you to find out. And I-" "Felix calm down. It's alright. I don't care what they are. I just want to understand. That is all." Y/N promised as she lifted his head up, looking into his frazzled eyes. It was a secret that some of the wolves didn't know and it was a lot for him to reveal it. "Felix. I want to know." Y/N pleaded. Felix nodded and nudged her towards the car. He could feel Minho listening and he didn't like that.

Y/N opened the car door and sat on the back seat, watching Felix climb in. He was nervous. Y/N could tell. It was the way he kept looking back as if he was going to be caught. Felix took a deep breath and rubbed his face as he built up the courage to tell her. "My father is an omega and my mother is human. My mother doesn't know my father is a werewolf. Fuck. I don't know how to explain this." Felix looked up at the roof of the car as he tried to find the right words. "My father came from an omega pack. He was a part of the revolution against alphas. There were nineteen in their pack, but they were divided in beliefs so a schism happened. My father stayed with his pack. I think there were six or seven. I can't remember what he told me but apparently war happened with a head alpha and when the head omega wanted to take them out my father ran away. He ran because he didn't want to be executed. My mum was carrying Rachel, so he couldn't do that to her. My mum believed he got into some trouble growing up so they moved into the house you saw. Then I came along and then Olivia came." "But how are you a werewolf? I don't understand." Y/N whispered. "I don't know, but my father picked up on the signs and tried to teach me everything he knew. My father believes I could have been a beta because of a recessive gene but who knows? Chan found me through my father who was looking for a werewolf pack at the time to teach me. The thing was Chan had a high opinion of omega packs back then, as long as I was loyal to him, Chan would never hand over my father." Felix stated with an awkward smile as if the whole situation was tough luck. He looked at Y/N whose brown eyes watched him as she tried to piece together what he had said. "I didn't tell you because I didn't know how you would react. Many werewolves are prejudiced or fearful of omega packs. Even Minho hyung despises them along with Hyunjin and Seungmin so it wasn't like I could say anything to them. Only Chan and Jeongin really know. The others have speculation but have never asked. I guess I also worried because of what happened with you and Ateez, I didn't want it to escalate further and target my family." "Oh, Lixie. I'm not mad. I was hurt for three minutes but I knew there was something more because we promised we would always tell each other." Y/N reached out and cupped his face in her hands. Her warmth made him close his eyes. "What I think is an omega pack is pretty cool and I support that because us omegas are treated badly you know."

Felix grunted lowly at her obnoxious thoughts. He didn't need her deciding to rebel against them. "My love. Don't even think about it. You are treated well. If not spoilt." Felix grumbled. "Me spoilt? Definitely not it depends on what you categorise as spoilt." Y/N stated causing him to roll his eyes. "I am sorry I didn't say anything when you came into the room. I kind of panicked and I couldn't exactly say you were my girlfriend when Seungmin had his hands wrapped around you, but then I felt guilty. So. So. So guilty baby. Not only that Rachel is so judgemental and I didn't want her to even have those thoughts about you." Felix stressed causing Y/N to roll her eyes. "I mean technically I am a whore-" Felix put his hand over her mouth, silencing her with a glare. "Do not ever say that. Ever." Felix growled. "Yes, Lixie." Y/N teased as she kissed him. She missed his kisses. They were always so loving and tender. They were delicate, like him. "Do you ever worry something may happen?" Y/N asked. "My father expects it but I worry for my mother and sisters. They never asked to be apart of this world and I want to keep it hidden from them." Felix answered. "If they do I will rebel," Y/N stated as she crossed her arms. "If you do. I can punish you now. You've been claimed." Felix said as his yellow eyes glowed slightly. "Um. Hello. Seungmin is that you?" Y/N teased, causing Felix to growl and chase her out of the car. Things were starting to get better despite the small cracks that were starting to show.

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[liketolaugh-writes]

I've been thinking about a Demon Twins AU with Good Parents Fentons.

----

Danny laughed softly, rolled over, and looked at her. Maddie's brow creased the longer he stared, and she waited for him to speak.

"...Aren't you mad?" he asked at last.

Mad? How was she supposed to be mad when she was still thinking about his birth mother cutting his throat?

"About what, sweetie?"

He blinked at her, with the same soft blue eyes she'd always known. "About... me lying for so long, I guess. Hiding so many important things from you and Dad. Things... things that you probably wouldn't have adopted me if you'd known."

"You say that like you tricked us into it," Maddie teased gently. But Danny just shrugged.

"You could've had a normal kid," he said. Maddie's heart broke.

"But they wouldn't have been you," she reminded him, voice soft. "I care about you, Danny, not some hypothetical perfect child that I could have had. You are my son. That's what matters." Danny's breath hitched as he cut off a whimper. Maddie pressed forward. "And you deserve a family - someone that can show you that you can still be loved after the things that have happened to you. Why not us?"

Well- there were actually a lot of answers to that, such as another family might not have hunted his ghost when he died, but none that Danny was likely to voice. If he thought them at all.

Sure enough, Danny just rolled toward her and pressed his forehead against her knee, a silent gesture of gratitude.

"I should call Tucker," he murmured at last, and Maddie nodded and went to get his phone.

Unfortunately, that gave her time to mull over everything that he and Talia had said, all of the odd offhand comments and sly hints. Talia had used her words like a weapon, and Danny, in his way, had done the same.

You still don't guard your left side - was that true? Had there always been that silent cry of a missing piece, and Maddie had simply never noticed?

Why was Danny so skeptical of his grandfather's death? Why did Talia promise that he wouldn't need to get his hands dirty? Why did Talia say that she shouldn't have had Danny and Damian? What were the Lazarus Pits she'd spoken of with such significance?

What did Danny mean when he accused his mother of cutting his throat, and why didn't she deny it?

Maddie was still fussing over those questions when Danny finally hung up, looking satisfied. He squirmed toward her, and she instinctively brought his head back to her lap. That seemed to be what he wanted, because he relaxed with a sigh, and almost immediately slipped into a doze. She ran her fingers through his hair, and kept thinking.

Danny didn't stir until Jack returned with food, and it was only because Jack's cheerful shout was difficult to miss. Maddie leaned forward to intercept before Jack could spill soda all over their bed, and Jack gave her a sheepish laugh before settling down with everything else.

"The door, Jack," Maddie reminded him fondly, and distributed the food while he hurried back to close the door.

Jack sat down again and helped Danny up to prop against him. Almost immediately, a distracted light of worry was back in his eyes, making Maddie winced with sympathy. Danny clearly noticed it too, from the slight wave of tension, but didn't bring it up.

"Danny," Jack said at last, halfway through the meal. His shaky voice made it clear it had been a strain to even get that far. "What did you mean, when you said she..." He couldn't say it. Maddie couldn't blame him.

Danny hesitated, then sighed, putting his burger down. He leaned against Jack and visibly considered how to answer. His eyes were thousand miles away. He reached up, and his fingertips brushed his throat. There was no scar there.

"It was how I got away," he said, and dropped his hand, halfheartedly picking up his burger again. He took a bite, thinking again as he chewed. Jack and Maddie both stopped, unable to focus, but tried not to stare Danny down. Don't rush him, Maddie told herself. Her head snapped back up when Danny continued. "My grandfather was Ra's al Ghul, the Demon's Head." He said it like a title, a name that people would whisper in fear. It was easy to believe. "He had exacting standards for me and Damian, so our training started early. I was good with martial arts, Dami with weapons. But when it came time to put our training to use, I wasn't... good at it."

Danny's voice was strained, and it was clear that even after the day's revelations, it was still difficult for him to talk about this. Not that Maddie could blame him, of course. It was hard just to hear.

Danny had bloomed from... whatever that man had tried to turn him into, from the start of an assassin into a sweet, brilliant boy who watched avidly as Jack showed him how to take the microwave apart and put it back together. Trying to imagine him before they met, what they could have forced him to do, felt like crushing a flower back into its bud. And somehow, suddenly, she understood.

"You said you weren't suited for that life," she whispered. Danny nodded stiffly. "That woman promised you wouldn't need to get your hands dirty. Danny..."

She couldn't imagine it, Maddie realized, because it had never happened. Danny had never been the right shape for that.

"I couldn't kill," Danny confirmed, without looking at her. Maddie bit down a whimper. Jack gasped, and moved suddenly, probably to clutch at Danny like he'd disappear. But Danny flinched, and Jack stopped, closing his fist around nothing as he stared at Danny with grief. Danny ignored both of them, maybe unable to make this confession and look at them at the same time. "I would... freeze. My hands would shake. My fingers would go numb. I don't know what the hell my problem was."

And he didn't, Maddie could tell. Even now, years after his escape from that life, Danny still didn't completely understand why he'd reacted that way. Why he'd found it so viscerally repulsive. Why a child would be unable to kill. Maddie imagined it despite herself, Danny as the little boy they'd first met, holding a knife to some faceless person's throat until he started to hyperventilate, then cry, dropping the knife to rub childishly at his eyes. Before she knew it, tears slipped down her face, then her neck.

"Dami could do it," Danny added, softly. And that image, somehow, was even worse - another little boy gently taking the knife from Danny's numb fingers and slicing through that faceless person's neck, spilling blood over both their hands.

"The problem," Maddie murmured, almost shaking with rage, "is that you were eight, and someone told you to kill."

Danny blinked at her, startled, and then smiled sadly. "Dami could do it," he repeated. "If no one else was around, he'd say I did it. He covered for me for more than two years."

So... six. Danny had been six the first time someone had tried to make him a murderer. Maddie felt sick. She put her food down.

"But then they started to talk about separating us," Danny continued. "Sending us on different missions, or even having us work solo." Eight year olds, working missions like they were adults - Maddie wanted to drag Talia back and kill her for putting Danny in this world. Danny himself looked, at worst, melancholy. "If that happened, we wouldn't be able to hide it anymore, and Grandfather would have had me killed."

"No," Jack whispered, echoing Maddie's thoughts. Danny smiled a little, and leaned further into Jack as if drawing comfort from him. Maddie hoped that he was. That something of this was helping.

All of this leads to Talia cutting Danny's throat, Maddie remembered suddenly.

"So Mother did it first," Danny said without replying. Maddie's heart dropped. "The League had access to... kind of some weird stuff, more magic than science. One of those things was the Lazarus Pits. Looking back, they were definitely derived from ectoplasm, but they'd done something weird to it. Not that important, I guess." He shrugged. "The Lazarus Pits bring the dead and dying back to life."

No, Maddie wanted to say, as if that would stop what she already knew was coming.

"So Mother faked an assassination," Danny continued anyway. "Held my head in one hand and a knife in the other, and told me to be brave. Then she let the doctors declare me dead, and..." He trailed off, letting them finish. He was smiling, small and pained, like he was apologizing for how awful this was to hear.

"Brought you back with the Lazarus Pits," Maddie whispered, shaken to the core. Danny nodded. "That's... that's..."

Danny smiled mirthlessly. "Something only a loving mother raised in a death cult would do?"

Not what Maddie would have said, but in a horrible sort of way, it made sense. Talia loved Danny enough to try to get him out at any cost. To defy the will of the cult they were stuck in. She loved him enough to cut his throat and hold him while he died.

(Was Maddie really so much better?)