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lov3lycosmos · 19 days ago

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Ateez's Favorite Sex Positions ❦

Genre: smut MDNI

Pairings: Ot8 (individually) x fem!reader

Warnings: just multiple sex positions, some dirty talk, and very explicit wording

Cosmos note: i was bored and tired so don't mind this lazy/shitty layout...skz one coming soon and I promise I'm working on requests im just a bit slow <3

my library!

Seonghwa — Cowgirl (because he gets to be your throne AND your toy)

Seonghwa loves cowgirl because it’s you on display, and he gets to lay there with that cocky little smile while you ride him like he’s your favorite toy. But don’t be fooled — his hands are on your hips and he’s in control the whole time, just letting you think you’ve got the power. “Look at you,” he’ll whisper, staring up at you like you're art, “Using my cock like that… you gonna make yourself cum, baby?” And if you get all bratty and go slow? He’ll thrust up into you so hard you lose rhythm, grinning as you cry out and fall forward into his chest.

You bouncing on him, hair stuck to your face, tits out, nails clawing at his shoulders? He’s obsessed. He’ll bite your nipple mid-moan, slap your ass, then fuck up into you so good you start shaking. “Thought you were in control, didn’t you?” he’ll pant, pulling you down to kiss you like he’s starving. Best part? He doesn’t stop till you collapse, babbling and leaking down his thighs.

Hongjoong — Missionary (but filthy, slow, and possessive as hell)

People think Hongjoong’s favorite is missionary ‘cause it’s romantic. And sure, it starts soft — a slow grind, one hand cupping your cheek, kissing you like you’re porcelain. But that ends fast. The second he’s in, he’s destroying you in slow motion, hips rolling like he's writing music with your body. He’ll start talking all low in your ear like, “You take me so good. Look at you, baby. So fucking pretty underneath me.” And he loves when your legs wrap around him, trapping him in while he goes deeper, just to make you moan louder.

The filth comes out the second you say his name too breathlessly. Suddenly his hand's on your throat, his rhythm turns punishing, and he's saying "You want it deeper? Louder? Beg then. Go ahead. Let everyone hear who's fucking you like this." And when you do? He’ll smirk, spit in your mouth, and kiss you right after like he’s blessing you. That man’s short but he fucks like he’s 6'5 with a vendetta.

Yunho — Doggy (because he’s deep, dominant, and lowkey feral)

Yunho is the sweetest sunshine man… until you’re on all fours in front of him, ass in the air, begging. Then he’s a menace. He grips your hips like handles, pulls you back on his cock so hard the sound alone would get you banned from public housing. “That’s it, baby,” he pants, breath shaky, “You’re so fucking wet… dripping for me already?” He loves spreading your cheeks to watch himself slide in, and he’ll slap your ass just to hear you whimper.

He gets vocal too — panting your name, saying “So fucking tight… you’re milking my cock, shit,” and going deeper every time you cry out. And when you try to crawl away? Oh, sweetheart. He drags you back by the waist, one hand tangled in your hair, moaning “Where do you think you’re going? You’re not done until I say you are.” Deep strokes. Heavy thrusts. Wet skin. Pillow ruined. You ruined. That’s Yunho’s love language.

Yeosang — Spooning (but slow, dirty, and completely messed up)

Yeosang spooning you is sweet at first — all warmth, kisses to your shoulder, and that soft voice asking, “Can I?” But once he’s in, it's filthy whisper central. His hips move so slow it’s mean, just to feel your walls flutter around him while he rubs your clit in tiny teasing circles. And don’t even try to hide your moans — he’ll laugh, nuzzle your neck, and say “You’re so loud for me. Think the neighbors know who fucks you like this?”

He loves that you can’t escape. Legs tangled, arms wrapped around your waist, his cock buried so deep you swear he’s in your stomach. And when you start shaking? He holds you tighter, whispering filth right in your ear while you fall apart. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Just like that. You’re mine, yeah?” Spooning with Yeosang = slow, possessive overstimulation + full body worship.

San — Standing (because sex is a sport now)

Sex with San when you're standing? It’s pure chaos. One second you’re doing dishes, next second your panties are yanked down and he’s got you pressed to the counter, whispering “Couldn’t wait. Been thinking about this all day.” He loves the strength it takes to keep you steady — gripping your thighs, lifting you just enough, slamming into you like he’s trying to rearrange your guts. You’re trying not to scream, and he’s grinning like the devil.

And the mirror? His favorite tool. He’ll bend you slightly, fuck you while watching your face change in the reflection, and moan, “Look at you… watching me fuck this pretty little body. Don’t close your eyes — I wanna see everything.” Bonus points if your shirt’s still on. He’ll shove it up just to see your tits bounce with each thrust, biting your shoulder as he finishes with a broken, desperate groan.

Mingi — Reverse Cowgirl (because he’s the biggest freak and wants the full show)

Mingi’s a certified ass man. Reverse cowgirl has him in hell (the good kind). You on top, back arched, ass bouncing as you grind down onto his massive cock? He’s gripping the sheets and moaning so loud it’s embarrassing. He lives for that sound of skin-on-skin while he watches himself disappear inside you. “Holy shit, baby… ride it just like that. Fuck, you're perfect.”

And when you start losing your rhythm? He’ll take over, slamming up into you so hard you collapse forward, gasping. “You wanted to ride? Then ride me ‘til you can’t walk.” He’ll spank you mid-thrust, fingers digging into your hips like he’s marking you. When he cums? He’s groaning your name like a prayer, cock twitching while he fills you up, panting “Gonna cum so deep it leaks out for hours…”

Wooyoung — Lotus (because he’s obsessed with body contact and praise)

Lotus is Wooyoung’s heaven. Your legs wrapped around him, arms clinging to his shoulders, while he fucks you slow and deep? Yeah, he’s a mess. “You’re so warm, baby. You feel that? That’s all mine.” He’s rubbing circles into your back, kissing your jaw, and talking nonstop. “Taking me so well. You’re such a good girl for me.” His pace stays steady — hard enough to make your breath stutter, but close enough that you can’t escape his kisses.

And when he gets emotional? He’s moaning “I love you” between each thrust, holding your face and whispering, “I’ll never get tired of this.” But don’t get it twisted — the moment you cum, he’s burying himself to the hilt, groaning “Give it to me, baby. Cum all over this cock.” Then he keeps going through your aftershocks, praising you until you’re crying and shaking in his arms. Like I said — clingy, emotional, and fucking lethal.

Jongho — Full Nelson (because power + control + stretch = his dream)

Jongho might be the quiet one, but when he pulls you into a full nelson — legs up, back arched, arms pinned while his cock slams into you at a downward angle so deep you see stars — it’s game over. He loves how exposed and vulnerable you look beneath him, pussy stretched wide, moaning like you’ve never been touched before. And the sound of you gasping for air while he whispers “Just take it. I’ve got you.” Yeah. He’s obsessed.

His strength lets him hold the position easily, so he’s fucking you dumb without breaking a sweat. “This angle drives you crazy, huh? Bet no one’s ever hit it this deep before.” He’ll smirk when your legs tremble, leaning down to kiss your neck while he keeps going, “I’m not stopping until you give me another one. Cry for me, pretty.” Jongho might be composed outside the bedroom — but inside? He’s turning you into a mess and loving every second.

taglist: @vampzity @sooniedoongiedori25 @mhluvie @yaorzu-blog @lze325 @felixleftchickennugget @m-325 @lezleeferguson-120 @psychicyouthfox @pixie-felix @angel-writes-here @galaxy4489 @minniesverse @gncbnahc @ari-hwanggg @alondra6011 @sk1ndx0

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vettelsvee · 5 months ago

Note

letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win

(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm

V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭

WORD COUNT: 3958

WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.

Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.

"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"

Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.

"Yeah," was all he could say.

"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.

"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.

"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"

Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.

"Hey… I have something for you."

Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.

Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.

"Open it… I hope you like it!"

Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.

"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.

Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.

"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."

You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.

Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.

Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.

"Oscar…"

"Y/N…"

"I want to do it."

Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.

"Babe…"

"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."

Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.

Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.

"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…"

"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."

"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.

"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”

"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I promise, really."

Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.

Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.

You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.

Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"

"I will, yeah."

You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…

"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.

"I love you too, Y/N…"

With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.

Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.

Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.

Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.

“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.

“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“So...?”

“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.

“Y/N…”

“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”

You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.

“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”

Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.

“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.

His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.

“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.

That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.

“Y/N…”

His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you.

“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”

“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”

“Do you promise me, love?”

“I swear.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.

Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.

When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.

“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.

“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.

He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.

You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.

It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.

“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”

And so you did.

Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.

The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.

“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”

“Oscar, don't…”

“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”

After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance.

You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.

·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”

You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.

He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.

“Y/N…”

“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”

The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.

“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”

“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”

“Never for you, sweetheart.”

Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.

“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”

“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.

·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”

You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.

You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.

“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”

“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you.

Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths.

“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”

It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.

“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.

You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.

“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”

“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.

“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”

Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.

“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”

The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.

·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.

“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.

You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.

“You don't have to…”

“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”

Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.

When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.

“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”

“Was it good?”

Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder.

”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”

You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.

“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”

Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.

“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”

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humanmorph · 2 years ago

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my moleskin calendar really does have kind of shit paper even as someone who doesn't incredibly care about that (not for a calendar. It would be way more annoying one a notebook). but I'm still glad I bought it when it was on sale because the extra 6 months from 2022 are so valuable to sketch in & it's really fun to flip through

#I'll try to find a 18 month calendar that's on sale bc it's already January again for 2024 #Just probably not moleskin.#AND now I know I'm fine with getting a boring black one too because I can put stickers on it : )#And I have like nowhere else to put those really. Win win #I also do like the layout this moleskin has (week on the left and notes space on the right) a lot so I'll keep a lookout for that.#rosa talk

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flawssy-227 · 2 months ago

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Ask Me Nicely | Joel Miller x afab!reader

summary | You're working at Tommy's Diner, and Joel is a creepy but kinda sexy line cook

author's note | I'm a long time reader, first time dark!fic writer. would love some feedback. this is a dark fic, please heed the content warnings below. anon is on if you'd like to message me about this

this is for @pedgito #SpringFever25 challenge! my category was Backwoods horror at a diner

content warning | 18+ MDNI — DDNE!! this fic has everything, soft!dark, creepy Joel, dubious consent, p in v, unprotected sex, creampies, afab reader who has hair that can be put in a bun

word count — 4.6k

More Joel here

You were in the middle of rolling silverware when you felt the hot gaze of someone staring at the back of your neck. You briefly made eye contact with a brown eyed man standing behind the grill. You’d never seen him before. He was certainly handsome from what you could tell, but the unrelenting stare was making you feel a bit eerie.

Turning back to the black linens in front of you, you whispered to your coworker. “Tess,” you started.

She just hummed in response, working on her own pile of freshly rolled silverware.

“Who’s that guy on the line? Is he new?”

Tess finally looked up toward the grill and rolled her eyes. “That’s Joel, Tommy’s brother.”

You hummed at the information. You didn’t even know Tommy had a brother. You’d been working at Tommy’s Diner on the outskirts of Austin for just over a month now. You were finally feeling comfortable with the menu, the layout of the restaurant, and the regular line cooks. You even had won over some of the regulars who usually only liked when Tess or Maria served them. Tommy seemed to think you were doing a good job and you finally had enough money for a deposit on a lease so you could get out of the stinky motel you’d been living in. Overall, things were going well. You turned to look back at Joel, mildly disappointed that he wasn’t still looking at you.

Tess snapped her fingers in front of your face, focusing your attention on her.

“Hey, no. Don’t even think about it.”

“Why?” you frowned. “He isn’t married, is he?”

Tess laughed at that. If only that was the only reason she didn’t want you near the guy. “No. Not married.” She sighed looking at your face. You were gonna need a little more information to stop the steady growing intrigue. “He’s here every summer, June and July. His ex get’s custody of the kid or something. Guess he’s bored.”

“Aw,” you sighed, dreamily thinking what kind of father he might be. “Poor guy, he’s probably lonely.”

“Dude’s a freak,” Tess scoffed. “Seriously! Bonafide weirdo. Every summer he’s here, it’s just eight weeks of making the girls uncomfortable.”

You frowned at that. Finally, Tess thought. She was getting through to you.

“Uncomfortable how?”

She sighed and glanced briefly to where you were sure Joel was. The cook line was a decent distance away from where the two of you were rolling silverware and the hum of the fans and other server chatter surely drowned out your voices, but Tess leaned in close to you and whispered anyway.

“Groping girls. Weird comments. Everybody used to just laugh it off. You know, we figured Tommy wouldn't wanna hear us complaining about his weird older brother. And we were right, by the way. This girl Amy used to work here, swore up and down Joel tried to, you know… do something he shouldn’t, after the Fourth of July party. We all believed her. Next thing we know, she gets the boot and Tommy tells us to mind our drinking when we’re off the clock. She kinda looked like you, now that I’m thinkin’ about it.” She shrugs, nonchalantly. “Plus, Maria hates the guy.”

Your eyes widened at that. “Really? Maria likes everyone.”

“Maria knows bullshit when she hears it.”

You subtly glanced back toward Joel, gasping softly when your eyes met his impossibly dark ones. You try to ignore the tingle down your spine.

“Stay away from him,” Tess practically pleaded with you. “Promise me.”

Your palms were sweaty as you gripped the black linen below you. You could still feel Joel’s eyes burning a hole into the back of your neck. He was attractive, sure. Despite how decent of a guy you thought Tommy was, you trusted Tess implicitly. She wouldn’t tell you to stay away from someone unless she really believed he was bad news. “I promise.”

***

You worked Wednesday, Thursday and Friday at Tommy’s and Joel was there every single time. You did your best to avoid him, trying to evade his persistent eye contact, which tended to be challenging when every time you looked up, the man was staring at you.

Yesterday he had asked you what your name was while he slid a patty melt across the window. You hesitated before saying, “it’s on the ticket.”

By Friday night you were exhausted, a week's worth of shifts on your feet in the Texas heat had left your body sore and your mood irritable. You were just an hour out from your cut time and then you had two full days off. You were going to finally move into your new apartment, maybe grab a drink with Tess on Saturday. Standing on expo, you rolled your head from side to side, trying to loosen the tension in your neck while you waited for Mr. Delaney’s burger. He was a regular and it was always the same thing, no lettuce, sub cheddar cheese, add onion. Apparently the guy had been coming here for years. Everyone knew his order, but even if they didn’t, you rang it in exactly how he liked it.

Joel slid a plate over to you with a wink. You didn’t want to smile but you couldn’t help it. Sorry Tess, the man’s handsome. Your smile quickly fell when you took a look at the burger.

“Is this cheddar cheese?” you questioned. The other cook, Richie was facing away from you, labelling some veggies he had just prepped.

Joel looked at you, then the burger, and shrugged. No response.

You let out a frustrated laugh. Mr. Delaney was nice, but very particular about his food, you had noticed. “I don’t know why I asked,” you started. “I can tell it’s american. C’mon, Joel, he gets the same damn burger every week. Read the fuckin’ ticket.” You slid the plate back toward Joel and turned away so you could leave the kitchen and check on your other tables.

Joel smirked at your little outburst while he put two fresh patties down on the grill.

Richie chuckled beside him, still labelling containers. “Can’t believe you pissed her off. She’s so sweet to everyone, but I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”

Joel just smiled, tongue running over his teeth as he slid the new patties with cheddar onto buns, assembling the burger exactly how you rang it in. “Dunno,” he said, propping the plated burger in the window. “Might like her bad side.”

***

Your tables were fine so you spent a couple of minutes talking to a young couple who were driving across the state on their way to Louisiana. You took a picture for them, rosy cheeks pressed together as they gushed about their journey so far. The loneliness you felt being in a new place all by yourself hit you like a freight train. You were happy, feeling proud of yourself for leaving a bad situation all by your lonesome and making do with what you had. You realized you should apologize to Joel for snapping at him. You’re just tired and maybe a little horny. Wait, no. Hangry. You were hangry. You weren’t sure where that thought just came from, but you were sure it had something to do with Joel’s thick forearms and the way sweat glistened on his skin when he was standing too close to the grill.

Making your way through the swinging kitchen door, you smiled sheepishly at Joel through the window. The new burger looked perfect, exactly how it should’ve 5 minutes ago. “Thank you,” you told him. “And sorry… I didn’t mean to snap at you. Just ready to get out of here, ya know?”

“No worries, darlin’.” Joel wiped his hands on a white towel and flung it across his shoulder. Your lips parted ever so slightly at the way he crossed his beefy arms over his muscled chest.

“Wanna bite?”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you quickly shut your mouth. “Hm?” A bite of what exactly?

“Food, darlin’. Can make ya something.”

Tess’s warning played in your head. You didn’t want to get too close to him and you definitely didn’t want him doing you any favors. But you were hungry, and he was offering. “Um, sure. Okay.”

***

Joel ended up making you a greasy steak sandwich that filled you up in a way you’d been missing for a few weeks, and thank goodness. You were supposed to leave the diner two hours ago, but Christian, your dimwitted coworker and officially your least favorite person on Earth (as of two hours ago), was supposed to be closing, but slipped on a slick section of tile in the kitchen. Tommy was sure he heard something crack and drove him to urgent care, but not before he begged you to stay until close.

“Promise you won’t have to at all next week! Just stay tonight, please?” he begged.

What were you supposed to say? No, would’ve been a good option. But you needed your job and what was just a few hours more?

Your last table left and you finally locked the front doors, letting out a sigh of relief. It had started to rain earlier in the night and the diner was filled with a sticky humidity you found only existed in Texas during the summer. You couldn’t wait to shower and cozy up in the motel bed one last time.

You were in the middle of mopping the front of the restaurant, soapy water gliding over the red and white tiles when Richie poked his head out from the kitchen.

“Hey kid, I’m headin’ out.”

The swift drop of your smile must’ve been comical because he immediately chuckled. “Don’t worry, Joel’s still here. He’ll stay with ya and lock everything up.”

That wasn’t exactly comforting with Tess’s warnings still floating in your head. Sure he had made you dinner and didn’t seem to mind when you snapped at him earlier, but he was weird. It was like you could always feel his eyes on you, even when you couldn’t see him, and you didn’t know him well enough to be comfortable stuck in the diner with him completely alone.

“Wait, Richie! Can’t you stay with us? I’m almost done, I swear.” You did your best puppy dog eyes.

He looked down at you and offered you a small smile. “Can’t. Tommy’s been ridin’ me about hours. But Joel’s cool. Don’t worry about him, he’s got a daughter.”

You watched Richie turn away and leave, simply disregarding your concern. Joel having a daughter wasn’t quite the reassurance he clearly thought it was but whatever. Tommy was a totally decent guy so you were sure Joel was fine too. You had nothing to worry about, you were positive. You did your best to finish your cleaning in record time, though.

A few minutes later you walked through the kitchen, planning on putting your receipts from your shift on Tommy’s desk, but you couldn’t help but be eerily creeped out by the absolute silence. The fan wasn’t running, the grill was clean and half the lights had been flicked off. Joel was nowhere to be found. You put your paperwork on Tommy’s desk and scoffed. That fucker left you here completely alone. You slid your phone out of your pocket, about to dial Maria when a dark figure appeared before you.

“You all done?”

You gasped, fumbling for your phone before you dropped it. “Shit, Joel. You scared me.”

In the half shaded darkness between Tommy’s office and the rest of the kitchen, you could barely make out the lines of his face. The shape of his nose and a singular dimple make his handsome but usually menacing face seem a little bit softer.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

You inhaled sharply and followed Joel out the back door of the kitchen and tried not to let your mind wonder. Everything was fine. He probably just liked saying weird things to make people uncomfortable. You let your eyes trail down his backside, cute butt, you thought before Joel immediately turned around, cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Your eyes snapped up to his, sheepish smile on your face as you tried to pretend you weren’t just shamelessly checking this man out. He knew, of course.

Leaning against the brick wall by the kitchen door under the awning, effectively shielding you from the rain, he offered you his pack of cigarettes. “Smoke?”

You reached for one and placed it in between your lips. “I’m trying to quit.” You leaned in towards Joel, waiting for him to light you up. You let your eyes casually take him in, really looking at his chocolate brown eyes for the first time. His brows are creased as he focuses on the flame.

“How’s that going for you?” he asks, and you wonder if his voice always sounds this sexy.

“Pretty good,” you laugh. “At least, typically. I feel like it’s okay to indulge every now and then.”

Joel hums in agreement, eyes not leaving yours. “How long you been workin’ here?”

“Just around a month. Just moved to the area.”

“Yeah, Tommy said you weren’t from around here. Moved all by yourself?”

There was something about the way he said that. You get a weird feeling in your gut and feel the urge to lie.

“Uh, no. I-I moved here with my boyfriend.” You turn your face away and take a deep drag from your cigarette. You’ve always been a shit liar to anyone who pays attention.

Joel doesn’t say anything else for a minute and he finally lets his gaze move away from you and focuses straight ahead. You release tension in your shoulders you didn’t even realize you were holding. He finishes up his smoke and immediately replaces it with a second. You swallow a lump in your throat and let the bud of your own fall into a puddle of rainwater.

You clear your throat. “Well, I’m heading out. See you next week.”

Joel doesn’t say anything else to you but nods his head in acknowledgement. You make a run for your car but you parked in the back of the lot today, so you can’t help but get yourself soaked. You swear the rain is coming down harder now that you are away from any form of cover and you breathe out a sigh of relief when you open your car door and slide in the cloth seats.

You put your keys in the ignition and took a little moment of gratitude. The shift was over. You were moving into your own place tomorrow. You made a little extra money even though you had to stay late. And you wouldn’t have to see Joel for a few days, at least. You turned your key to start your car up but you aren’t met with the typical sound of your engine turning over. Frowning, you try again.

“You’ve got be fu-” a knock on your window startles you. It’s Joel.

“Car trouble?” he questions over the sound of rain, and your window is a little foggy, but you swear he’s smirking.

You take your keys out of the ignition and grab your bag before cracking open the car door. “You wouldn’t moonlight as a mechanic, would you?”

Joel laughs at you and you don’t hate the sound. “Why don’t you call your boyfriend?”

You let out a deep sigh, a frustration headache coming on rapidly. “Joel,” you start.

He pulls the door open further for you, seemingly uncaring that his light grey t-shirt is now soaked through. “I know, darlin’. I know.”

You and Joel jog back to the kitchen and you’re grateful he never closed the door so you could swiftly slide back inside. Your clothes are completely soaked through and Joel grabs you and him a towel to dry off a bit as he leads you back to the front of the diner.

He leans back in one of the big, circular, red leather booths, running the towel through his brown curls and you can’t help but admire the way his arms flex at the movement. You slide in on the opposite side and try not to shiver at the gust of cold air from the AC.

“So, you ain’t got no one to call?”

You pause. You could call Tess. Uber’s didn’t really run around here but you know there’s a cab company that runs late, you had seen their cards in the motel lobby. Though you could scold yourself now since you hadn’t grabbed one. You decide not to lie.

“Nope. You caught me. I’m all alone.”

There’s a look in his eyes at that and it makes your stomach curl. “I can take care of ya. Drive you home.”

Your heart rate increases. It’s not what he’s saying, but how he says it. You weren’t sure what to do. Even if you called Tess and she could pick you up, you would still have to wait here with Joel for God knows how long. Your eyes dipped down as his thighs parted, sizable bulge on display. “Well, don’t look so scared, darlin’.”

Your bag is plopped on top of the table and you reach for it. You’re about to make a run for it and Joel just sighs. “Darlin’, don’t.”

You don’t even think about how the hell you’re gonna make it to the motel and you just bolt. Grabbing your bag from the table you set your sights on the swinging kitchen doors. You don’t make it far before you slip on a wet puddle and face plant in between the booths and the retro looking bar.

“Shit,” Joel says from behind you. “You okay?”

You groan as you feel Joel straddle you from behind. He softly brushes hair that must’ve slipped from your work bun to the side of your hair. His touch is gentle but maybe you’re just out of it. He leans his face further down into your space and you feel, more than hear, him take a big inhale, digging his nose into your neck. He smiles and sternly presses you back down onto the red and white tile when you groggily try to sit yourself up. You could probably force him off if you really put your might into it, but you let him hold you down.

“Smell so good, darlin’,” he says and you can feel bulge pressing in between your butt cheeks.

“Joel,” you whine and you aren’t sure what to say. Get off of me you freak? Or don’t stop because it’s been a long time since you’ve felt a bulge that big.

“Why’d you run from me?” he questions you, softly grinding his pelvis into the back of you.

You tuck your head further into your shoulder and close your eyes. You whimper. “You scared me.”

Joel tuts at that. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

For some reason you believe him. Joel’s hands move away from your back and he cages your head in between his forearms. You can feel his hot breath on the nape of your neck as he continues to grind his clothed cock in between the spandex of your covered buttcheek.

“Ain’t gonna hurt ya,” he repeats. “And I ain’t gonna do anything you don’t wanna. Okay?”

You don’t say anything for a moment. You leave your eyes closed and you try to will away the hot sting of tears.

“I can tell you’re lonely,” he says into your ear, letting his tongue trace along the edge of your lobe. “I’m lonely too. I can make us both feel real good.”

You shudder and let your eyes open, the rush of hot tears fall down the side of your face and pool in a salty puddle on the edge of a red tile.

“Say ‘okay’ darlin’.”

You let out a weak ‘okay’ and Joel takes that as his cue to start feeling you up. You feel him everywhere and it’s not wholly unpleasant. He slides his weight off your back and straddles you mid thigh.

“Kick off your shoes,” he says and you do as you feel cool air over your butt. He slides your leggings all the way down your legs and you help him remove the bunched up material. He slides his tongue all the way from your bare ankle up to your left butt cheek, giving you a small kiss before he buries his nose in between your thighs. “Smells so good.”

You unwittingly let out a moan at the sensation and snap your mouth shut. You internally scold yourself, you’re not supposed to be enjoying this!

The sounds you make egg Joel on. “Yeah, baby. Keep making those pretty noises for me.”

He straddles you again, reaching his hand in between your legs. You're wet. You can tell by the chill of the air conditioning. He runs a finger through your folds and you let out another little sigh.

“You want it, don’t ya?”

You know he wants you to respond, but you just moan again as he continues to move a thick finger in between your lips.

Dissatisfied at your lack of response but clearly not deterred, Joel rubs against your clit, this time forcing your breath to hitch and your back to arch further into his warm body. “Tell me you want my fingers,” he nearly scolds.

“Fuck,” you gasp. “Yes, I want your fingers.”

He hums to himself, clearly happy with your answer and he pushes two thick fingers into you. Your mouth is wide at the sensation. You can’t help but twitch around him as he slowly pumps in and out of you. You can feel and hear yourself getting slicker with each movement. You shouldn’t be this wet. Your boss's brother is fingering you face down on the cold tile floor at your job. You can feel your nipples harden underneath your work uniform and you feel ashamed that you’ve let this happen and that your body is clearly enjoying itself even while your mind is not fully on board.

Joel’s voice snaps you out of your head. “Being such a good girl for me,” he moans into your ear and you can’t help but clench around him at the notion. “Pussy’s just sucking me in, fucking dripping for me. You gonna cum for me darlin’?”

He uses his other hand to rub at your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Yesyesyes, gonna cum!”

Joel keeps his pace steady, watching the side of your face that isn’t still pressed against the tiled floor contort in ecstasy as he brings you to your release.

“Mm, good girl,” he says, rubbing your slick all over the outside of your pussy lips, causing you to twitch in aftershocks. “Did that feel good, darlin’?”

Your eyes are shut as you sigh, feeling incredibly relaxed considering where you are and what has transpired over the last 20 minutes or so. You open your eyes and let yourself whisper out a soft “yeah.”

Joel seems delighted at this. “Good. Can tell you work real hard, wanna make you feel good.”

You aren’t sure if you should still be scared or weirdly flattered? You try to press yourself up from the floor and Joel presses you back down. “Joel,” you whine. “I can’t lay like this, you’re gonna fuck up my neck.”

His eyes meet yours and he can see that you are being genuine so he shifts so his weight is off of you. You let yourself flip onto your back and you take him in fully since whatever is happening started to happen. His eyes are soft and lonely and a little crazed but you’ll just chalk it up to horniness. He’s still fully clothed and he lets his body press back into yours. You can feel his bulge against your bare sex and you gasp. He’s huge and you can really feel him like this.

Joel is practically humping himself on you and you can’t help but feel a bit bewildered at the absurdity of it all. He leans back on his haunches and slides down his black chef's pants. Your jaw drops at the size of him.

“Joel,” you gasp, slightly mesmerized by his incredible girth.

“I know baby, I know.” Joel smirks at your wide eyes. “Ask me nicely and I’ll make you feel good again.”

You’re shocked, truly. This is not anything like how you thought your night would go, but you can’t help but release a little more wet slick at the sight of his leaky tip and the blissed out and slightly insane look on Joel’s face.

“Ask me,” he says again, jerking himself off slowly as he waits for you.

You clear your throat. “Make me feel good again?” you try.

“How baby? You want my cock?”

You nod.

“Tell me.”

Your mouth is dry but you somehow fumble the words out: “Want your cock, Joel. Please.”

He lets out a groan at that, several small yeah yeahs out of his mouth as he hovers over your body, one forearm caging you in as his other hand guides his girthy cock into you. The stretch is incredible and you try to retreat on instinct but Joel just shoves the rest of himself in.

You whine his name and his eyes shutter close, clearly lost to the bliss. “Gimme a sec darlin’, promise I’ll make it feel good.”

And boy, does he. As promised, Joel gives you a second to adjust to his size before he starts to slowly press himself in and out of you. When your eyes roll back and you start making those cute little sounds he’s become obsessed with, he increases his pace. Deep and deliberate strokes make you arch your back off the diner floor. You open your eyes and stare at him, feeling shocked that he’s reaching that spot that seems to always be out of reach for everybody else. He’s the perfect size, just bordering on the right side of too much. Everything feels so good, so intense. You’re so close.

“Cum for me baby,” Joel whispers in your ear. And as if your body is his to control, you do.

Joel wraps a strong muscled arm around your spine to protect you from falling on the hard, cold floor again.

“Ask me to cum inside you,” Joel begs, voice strained by his vigorous thrusting.

And this time, you don’t even think about it. “Please fill me up, Joel. Please, baby.”

Thick, hot ropes of cum fill you up and you can’t help but admire Joel’s handsome face as it contorts with pleasure. You rub your hands under his clothed back, slightly cool with a mix of rain from his damp t-shirt and sweat from your activities.

***

Joel is sitting back in the same big red booth, body leaning back lazily as he puffs on a cigarette. You force yourself to stand up on shaky legs, pulling your leggings back up and trying to ignore the sudden rush of Joel’s cum that leaks out of you when your body is finally upright. You feel… well good, in some ways. Body satisfied in a way it hasn’t, in well, ever. You also feel confused. Too many things worked out tonight in Joel’s favor, things that led you to be here, alone, and reliant on him. You weren’t scared, even though deep down you knew you should be.

“Joel,” you spoke, breaking him out of his own post-coital daze as he made eye contact with you. You shivered. You were leaning against the bar, unsure if your legs were stable to hold you upright for much longer. You noticed it had stopped raining. “Can you uh, can you drive me home?”

A lazy smile crossed his face. “Of course, darlin’. I wasn’t ready to be apart from you just yet, anyway.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #dark fic #fic: ask me nicely #springfever25 #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader

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digiflora · 7 months ago

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╭┄───────────── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐕! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. hsr men 〆 wc. 1.0k

art creds. 海仑 on weibo 〆 contains. mentions of being drunk/drinking, some suggestiveness but still sfw

gia's notes. new layout bc im allergic to keeping a theme 🏰 also i'm writing this while i procrastinate an essay. which is due in like.. 8.5 hours. and i am 2k over the word limit. joy upon joy.

╰┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 What HSR men says when they are drunk. ❞

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re SWEET when they’re drunk.

his voice gets a touch softer, a little lower so that you have to crane your neck and lean in real close to him to catch what he's saying over the bustle of the bar that you went to and the chatter of your friends that you came with. it’s like you’re in your own little universe with him, the sweet pinkish tint to his cheeks and the dilated pupils a look that you could definitely get used to- not that his usual more reserved look didn’t make your heart hammer in your chest, too.

but it's just so rare to see him like this, for him to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like every word that passes your lips is a prayer, whose hands furl and unfurl in his lap like he's itching to touch you (you wish he would).

it's not like he really says much, per se, instead opting to watch your every move wide-eyed and with a slackened jaw. you're growing warm under his gaze, and you stutter out that he'll really have to quit staring at you like that before you get the wrong idea. that does little to stop his actions, though he does flash you a sheepish smile.

"i'm sorry, you just look so beautiful."

you almost choke as you take a sip of your own drink.

gepard, dan heng (imbibitor lunae), moze, luocha

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re FLIRTY when they’re drunk.

it should be illegal for him to be this much of a smooth talker with that many drinks in his system. he's completely and utterly shameless, one arm rested casually against the back of your chair and his whole undivided attention on you as he throws every line he knows right at you hoping that one will land.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't enjoying this attention from him, though there's the remaining sober part of you screaming how he's just a friend over and over, but when he dips his head low to whisper into your ear you're delighted to find that part of you audibly drown out.

everything about him is just so... tantalising. the way his silver tongue darts out to swipe across his lip, him not missing the way your eyes follow the movement. the way he leans back in his seat, the hungry yet calculating look in his eyes doing something to you. the way you see him deliberating over something before finally opening his mouth to speak.

and when he asks you if you want to get out here with him, it's only natural for you to accept his offer.

aventurine (realistically he gets sad when he drinks but that is not romantical or lighthearted at all) jiaoqiu, gallagher, boothill

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TALKATIVE when they’re drunk.

even on a good day, he's known to just talk, and talk, and talk if he gets going. that particular quality only seems to be amplified by the alcohol coursing through his system. he's been talking your ear off for the past half hour or so, a never-ending flow of words escaping his lips as he seems to he telling you just about everything that's on his mind.

you see the glances from others, the pity edging its way to concern adorning their features, but little do they know that you don't mind one bit.

while he may not be everyone's favourite to talk to, you've always found something within you compelled to sit and listen while he talks. he's always had something interesting to say, always been wary of if you are feeling tired or bored (not that you ever would be of him), and over your few encounters you've grown to be rather fond of him.

he's still talking now, an enthusiastic gleam in his eye as you smile and nod, propping your chin against your hand as you get comfy and study his features unbothered.

he sees the affectionate look on your face and stops for a moment, smiling widely and stuttering a few times before continuing.

dr ratio, sampo, mr reca, argenti

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TIRED when they’re drunk.

it's something that happened once, a few months ago when you had drank with them for the first time. you had all been in a group, and you had been chatting away with your friends rather livelily (i dont think that's a word) until you promptly felt a weight against your shoulder.

your reactions are a bit sluggish, but when you do turn to see just what it could be you're surprised to see a head of hair, and your tipsy brain just about manages to realise he's slumped over, dozing off on your shoulder, much to the amusement of everyone at the table.

you find it rather funny yourself, sneaking your phone out of your pocket to snap a rather unflattering-angled photo of him (which he still manages to look good in) that you send to him the next morning (he smiled to himself as he saw your grinning face in the corner of it and saved it to his camera roll).

you don't quite have the heart to wake him up or shrug him off, so you sort of just... let him be and continue talking like nothing had happened. some nondescript amount of time later he wakes up, blinking uncertainly as he gains his surroundings, before jolting up ramrod straight and apologising to you.

you giggle, tell him it's alright and tease that he must be getting old to be asleep this early, which is met with an unimpressed look from him.

but from that night onwards, it happens a little too... often to be some chance.

every time he drinks, without fail, his head drops onto your shoulder. it's somewhat of a routine to snap a photo of him like this, to admire it in secret before sending it to him, and it's somewhat of a tradition now for him to wake up and instead send you a reserved smile before letting himself doze off on your shoulder again.

not that either of you are complaining.

blade, jing yuan, caelus, welt

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

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woogilicious · 3 days ago

Text

didn't think i'd fall here ꒰ mingi ꒱

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ rating: 18+ (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pairing: song mingi x female!reader ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 6.5k ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ genre: strangers to lovers, comfort, virgin!reader, virgin!mingi, friends-to-lovers energy, soft angst, smut, fluff ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ warnings: emotional manipulation, toxic friendship, crying, anxiety, self-esteem issues, first time sex, consensual sex, safe sex, soft dom!mingi vibes, realistic first time awkwardness, condom run to the convenience store lol, mentions of blood during sex (light), aftercare, mingi being obsessed with you, reader threatening to chop mingi's dick off lovingly ♡ ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ author's note: it's been a while y'all. hope you enjoy this smut, and also I've been trying some new layout lol cuz i'm not satisfied with my previous layout.

You didn't even want to come here today.

Lotte World was supposed to be fun—cotton candy, carousel selfies, maybe something gentle like bumper cars. But with Yujin and Hana, it was never about fun. It was about appearances. About pushing you into situations just to get a reaction, to laugh behind their hands at how you squirmed.

"Ugh, you're seriously scared of this?" Yujin groan, snapping a photo of the massive Atlantis roller coaster ahead, the steel tracks twisting like some cruel maze in the sky. "It's not even the scariest ride here."

"Right?" Hana chimes in. "God, you're so boring sometimes, Y/N. No wonder no guy ever looks at you."

You laugh. It's hollow.

It doesn't stop the sting.

The queue is already packed when they drag you towards the entrance. You hesitate, but Yujin latches onto your wrist like you're a toddler about to run into traffic.

"Don't be a baby. It's just a ride."

"But I really don't—"

"Do not make a scene," she hisses, smiling too widely as a group of boys glance over. "You're already embarrassing enough. Come on."

The line inches forward. Every step closer makes your chest tighter, like the straps of an invisible harness locking you in. Your stomach churns, hands tremble. But you don't say a word.

Yujin and Hana are too busy taking selfies to notice. Or care.

You stand behind them, quiet, small, barely existing.

"Swear to god," Yujin mutters at one point, "you're going to die single if you keep acting like this. You gotta be brave. Guys hate weak girls."

Hana laughs way too loud. "She needs a guy to knock some sense into her. Or just knock her up. Either one might fix it."

Your ears burn.

You try to laugh again, just to keep up the illusion. It sounds like you're choking.

And still, the line moves.

You're maybe five people from the platform when the operator suddenly shouts, "Two seat available now! Anyone here riding as a pair?"

Yujin doesn't even ask. Doesn't even glance back.

She and Hana leap forward.

"We're two!"

They disappear up the stairs in a blink. The group in front of you steps forward. And just like that, you're alone.

You don't cry, not yet.

But your body's reacting—shaking hands, clenched jaw, vision blurring at the edges. You're aware that walking backward through the crowded line would be more embarrassing than just riding the damn thing. At least, that's what your brain tells you.

The panic bubbles anyway.

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes glued to the track. It creaks and rumbles as the next cart wooshes by in a blur. Someone screams in delight. You're going to throw up. Right here, in front of everyone.

And then—

"Hey."

You jump.

The voice is gentle, low, curious. You turn around.

Three boys stand behind you, next in line. The tallest one—broad shoulders, brown hair—tilts his head at you.

You blink. "...huh?"

He offers a small smile. "You look like you're about to faint."

You open your mouth, then shut it.

The second boy, shorter but muscular with sharp features and a piercing stare, cuts in. "She was with those girls, right? They just ditched her."

The third guy, softer looking with black hair and pretty eyes, nods. "That's messed up."

You look between them, startled that they even noticed.

"I'm—fine," you lie. "I'll just... I was gonna leave."

"Back through that crowd?" The tall one says, gesturing behind.

"...yeah."

He glances at the operator, then back at you. "Well, you don't have to ride alone. I'll go with you."

You blink. "What?"

He smiles again, this time more reassuring. "I mean—if you want. We can ride together. No pressure."

"...why?"

He shrugs. "You look like you need a buddy."

The one with the sharp stare grins now. "This guy's Mingi. He's annoyingly a gentleman sometimes."

"I'm Jongho," he adds, giving you a little nod. "And that's Yeosang."

Yeosang gives you a tiny wave.

"Thanks," you mumble, feeling overwhelmed but... oddly warm. "I'm Y/N."

Jongho snorts. "Yeah, we heard your friends being total assholes. Y/N, you seriously deserve better than that."

You swallow. The words hit harder than they should.

Mingi gently touches your elbow. "You okay riding the roller coaster with me?"

You look at him—his soft gaze, his open posture, the zero judgement in his tone. And for once, someone isn't making you feel like a burden.

"...yeah," you breathe. "Okay."

The staff waves you forward.

Mingi lets you take the seat first, then slips in beside you, pulling the safety bar down. He's close—his knee brushes yours, and his scent is something clean and warm, like citrus and sun.

He glances at you.

"You're brave for doing this."

You almost laugh.

The ride jerks forward with a lurch.

Your fingers grip the bar.

Mingi's hand moves, gently resting on top of yours.

It's warm. Your fingers twitch beneath his at first, unsure, but then the roller coaster jolts forward with a hiss of steam, and you instinctively grip him back like your life depends on it.

He chuckles low under his breath. "That tight already? We haven't gone up yet."

You shoot him a panicked glance, knuckles going pale. "I'm not gonna survive this."

"You will," he says, voice soft. "You've got me now."

The ride starts its slow, agonising climb. Your heart funds like it's trying to launch itself out of your chest.

Mingi doesn't let go. Not even once. His thumb strokes over your knuckles in lazy circles, like he's trying to distract you from the threatening death drop ahead.

"Deep breath," he murmurs. "You've got this, Y/N."

The cart tips.

You scream.

It's not even cute. It's pure terror.

And Mingi just laughs—not at you though, but in joy, throwing his hands up as you fly down the track, wind whipping through your hair, your body tossed left and right.

You never let go of his hand.

By the time it slows and returns to the platform, your voice is gone, and your legs feel like jelly. You stumble forward a little when the bar lifts, but Mingi's hand on your back steadies you.

"You alright?" he asks, eyes scanning your face.

You nod, breathless, dazed.

He smiles, wide and proud. "You did amazing. Seriously! That was brave as hell."

You want to say thank you, but you're still processing the fact that your heart is beating and your limbs are still attached. You let out a small laugh instead, cheeks flushed, the adrenaline not quite fading yet.

Then you hear it.

"Wait, where's Y/N?"

Your stomach sinks.

You turn your head toward the exit ramp and spot them—Yujin and Hana—posing near a churro cart, phone angled high, lips puckered in matching fake smiles.

The voice is unmistakable.

"Probably chickened out and left the roller coaster," Yujin mutters, loud enough that you catch every word.

Hana scoffs, adjusting her hair. "We should find her, I guess. We did come with her car, after all."

"Ugh," Yujin groans. "So annoying. I hate her sometimes."

Hana snorts. "Sometimes?"

They both burst into laughter.

It hits you harder than the drop on the coaster.

You freeze. The sting behind your eyes burns hot, and you blink rapidly, refusing to let the tears win. Not here. Not in front of Mingi, Yeosang and Jongho.

But Mingi heard it too.

You feel the shift in his posture beside you, the way his jaw clenches just slightly. He glances back at Jongho and Yeosang, who both clearly clock the situation. A silent nod happens between them.

Then, without warning, Mingi gently grabs your wrist.

"Come on."

You look up, startled. "Wait—what? Where are we going?"

He's already walking you in the opposite direction.

"I—I need to go to them," you say, stumbling to keep with his pace. "I need to send them home—"

"Are they your close friends?" he asks, cutting you off calmly.

You stop walking. "Huh?"

"Do you hang out with them a lot?"

"…No. We used to be close in high school. But now… not really. We're all in different universities and barely meet up anymore."

Mingi hums like that’s exactly the answer he expected. "Good. So you can cut them off."

You blink. "What?"

He turns to face you properly, his expression serious but not harsh. "Why spend the rest of your day with people who treat you like that? Just hang out with us."

You open your mouth to argue, but then Jongho jogs up beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder like you've been besties for years.

"You didn't hear what they said? They're literally using you for your car and shitting on you behind your back."

"Yeah," Yeosang says, catching up, a rare frown on his usually passive face. “That's not what friends do. That's just… sad."

"I don't wanna ruin your guys' day though," you say quietly, unsure.

Mingi shakes his head. "You're not. I asked you to stay. You're not an obligation. You're a choice."

That line makes your heart skip.

Jongho smirks. "Besides, Mingi's in his hero mode now. You're stuck with us."

Yeosang chuckles. "He only gets like this when something really pisses him off."

You glance at Mingi, who's pretending not to listen, but the way he nudges your arm with his elbow says otherwise.

And for once… it feels okay to be pulled in a different direction.

You're still holding your tray with half-finished tteokbokki when Mingi takes a seat beside you at the picnic table. Jongho and Yeosang are opposite, poking fun at each other while stealing bits from the fishcake skewer pile.

"You okay?" Mingi asks quietly, sipping from his soda.

You nod. "Actually… yeah. Thanks to you guys."

He hums. "Good."

It feels so normal, sitting here with them. You were smiling. Genuinely smiling. For the first time in weeks, maybe.

The stand nearby is selling fresh corndogs and hotteok. You notice Jongho eyeing them, and your stomach grumbles too.

"I'll grab some more snacks," you say, standing. "My treat."

"Are you sure?" Yeosang asks.

"Yeah," you smile. "You guys saved me today. Least I can do."

You approach the snack cart, debating how many corndogs to grab when—

Shove.

It's not hard enough to knock you down, but enough to make you stumble forward a step. You turn, startled.

"Oh my god, we knew we saw your big back over here," Yujin says with a laugh, like it's the funniest thing in the world.

Hana smirks, standing beside her, arms crossed.

You step back, lips parting. "You guys left me."

Yujin rolls her eyes. "No we didn't? We were waiting for you by the churros stand."

"I was standing alone in line," you reply, your voice still soft, careful not to escalate anything. "You jumped ahead without even checking on me."

"Please," Hana mutters. "You probably didn't see us because you were too much of a pussy to ride."

They both burst into laughter.

You feel it again—that familiar sting in your chest. But this time, before you can say anything, another voice cuts through the air.

"Hey, Y/N. Is there a problem here?"

You look to your side.

Mingi's there, standing tall, eyes dark, jaw clenched. And when he looks at Yujin and Hana, the playful energy around them dies instantly.

Yujin straightens up, adjusting her top. "Oh heyyyy~" she says, her tone suddenly flirty. "And who might you be?"

"Do you know him?" Hana adds, nudging you.

"Yes," you reply clearly. "He offered to ride the roller coaster with me."

Yujin raises an eyebrow. "Really now…"

Then Mingi steps closer, resting a firm hand around your wrist—not hard, just protective.

"If you don’t have anything decent to say to Y/N," he says, voice sharp like a knife, "you can leave. She's hanging out with me and my friends now."

He doesn't wait for them to respond. He gently pulls you away, guiding you back toward the table where Jongho and Yeosang are already watching with narrowed eyes.

You think it's over—until Yujin and Hana follow you.

"Oh my god, Y/N," Yujin says loudly. "Don’t be such a whore and take three guys at once~ At least leave one for us."

You freeze mid-step.

"…Excuse me?" you blink slowly, not even sure you heard her right.

Yujin grins, proud. "Sharing is caring, babe."

You glance at Hana, who won’t meet your eyes.

"…Yujin," you say softly. "You have a boyfriend."

"So?" she scoffs. "You're being a greedy whore with three guys up your ass. You're no better than me."

Your breath catches. You stare at her, shocked. Embarrassed. Ashamed, even though you've done nothing wrong.

Hana still won't look at you.

And that's when Mingi steps forward.

"You know what's actually disgusting?" Mingi says, his voice suddenly cold. "That you think humiliating someone publicly makes you funny. That mocking someone you call a friend is just a joke. That dragging her down is the only way you feel better about yourself."

Yujin's face stiffens.

"And calling her a whore?" Mingi scoffs. "Girl, she's more decent than either of you. If having three people care about her makes her a whore, then maybe you should ask yourself why no one treats you that way."

Hana lets out a tiny breath like she's been slapped.

Mingi turns to them fully now, shielding you with his body.

"Don't talk to her again," he says firmly. "Don't call her. Don't look at her. Don't even think about her. Got it?"

Yujin crosses her arms. "Oh really? But she's our ride. She drove us here."

Jongho suddenly stands from the table. "Then go ask your boyfriend to pick you up."

The silence is loud.

Yujin's mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Hana still won't look at you.

You don't say a word. You just follow the boys as they walk away, head high, shoulders squared. Mingi's hand brushes yours. You don't pull away.

Behind you, you hear Yujin groan like a spoiled brat not getting what she wants.

And you don't look back.

You're quiet as you sit back at the table. You feel small again—not because of what they said, but because of how much it still hurts.

Jongho passes you a drink without a word. Yeosang silently offers you the hotteok you didn't get to buy.

Mingi sits beside you again, elbows on the table, glancing sideways at your face.

"You okay?" he asks for the second time today.

You nod, eyes glassy.

"You don't have to be," he adds softly.

"…I don't get it," you murmur. "I never did anything to them. I was always… trying to be nice."

"You were too nice," Yeosang says, voice calm. "Some people take kindness as weakness. That's not on you."

"She was jealous of you," Jongho adds bluntly. "Both of them were. You're quiet and kind and people like you without having to perform for it. That's threatening for girls like them."

You stare at your lap. "…I just hate that it got so ugly in front of everyone."

Mingi leans in closer, dropping his voice low. "If anything, you should be proud of yourself. You stood your ground. And you have three guys now who will never let anyone talk to you like that again."

You look up, eyes wide, lips parting.

Yeosang raises his soda. "To cutting off shitty people."

You laugh, finally.

And Mingi… he just watches you.

Like he's proud.

Like he’s already planning to keep you close all day.

The sun had dipped low by the time you all wandered back to your car, arms full of leftover snacks, plastic bags rustling with street game prizes and bottled drinks. The entire afternoon had gone by in a blur. One that smelled like honey butter corndogs and felt like safe hands holding you up.

"This your car?" Jongho asks, tapping the roof lightly.

You nod, unlocking it. "Yeah. It’s not fancy, but she gets me from A to B."

"It's cute," Yeosang says, popping a piece of candy into his mouth. "Matches you."

You glance at him, surprised. "Matches… me?"

"Yeah." He shrugs, smiling. "Kind of cozy. And a little beat up, but still standing."

You laugh. "Are you calling me emotionally damaged?"

"Absolutely," he says without blinking.

Mingi chuckles, watching you giggle as you swing the backdoor open to stash the snacks.

Jongho leans against the trunk, stretching. "We should hang out again sometime."

"Seconded," Yeosang says.

You smile. "I'd like that."

Mingi steps beside you and pulls out his phone. "Give me your number."

You blink. "Just like that?"

"Yeah," he grins. "No games. Just want to be able to text you."

Your heart skips.

You rattle off your number, and he saves it under Y/N 🎢, making you groan and hit his arm.

"What? You survived that roller coaster like a champ."

"I screamed."

"And held my hand the whole time," he says, low and teasing.

You turn away before your face gives too much away.

They all pile into their own car a few minutes later—Yeosang at the wheel, Jongho arguing over aux cord rights. Mingi rolls his window down just before they drive off.

"Hey, text me when you get home."

You glance up. "You too."

He smiles. "I will."

One week later.

You're sitting under a shady tree, picking at your sandwich while scrolling on your phone. Midterms are creeping up and your brain is half-fried. You barely notice the tall figure walking toward your bench until a shadow falls across your lap.

"Hey."

You look up—and blink.

"…Mingi?"

He grins, hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket. "Surprised?"

"Uh—yeah?? What are you doing here?"

"Your university's not that far from my dorm. I was in the area… and I was hungry."

You raise a brow. "So you decided to find me?"

"Obviously," he shrugs, plopping down beside you like this is the most normal thing ever.

Your heart does a backflip. "You're really bold, huh?"

He leans back on his palms, tilting his head toward you. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. After all… I haven't heard much from someone."

You flush. "I—I've been busy…"

"I know. I'm just teasing."

There's a pause.

The breeze rustles the leaves above. He's looking at you again, but this time with something softer in his expression.

"You seemed kinda quiet that day when we left," he says. "Was worried."

You glance down at your hands. "I was just… processing everything. It felt weird cutting someone off like that."

"They deserved it," Mingi says, voice firm. "You don't need people who treat you like garbage just because they've known you for a long time."

"…I know," you admit. "It just takes time to process all that."

He nods slowly. "Makes sense. Still. You're stronger than you think."

You smile, small. "You really don't have to keep being this nice to me, you know."

"But I want to."

That makes your breath catch.

He sits up straighter, taking a bite of the snack he brought—some triangle kimbap from the uni convenience store.

"Anyway, what's your major again?" he asks, chewing.

"Communications," you say. "Why?"

"Just wondering what kind of power you'll have in the future. I gotta make sure I stay on your good side now."

You laugh. "What about you?"

"Dance," he says proudly. "But I'm also thinking of minoring in theatre. I like performing."

"That… makes sense. You're kind of a natural."

"At performing?"

"At… pulling attention," you admit, looking away. "You make people feel comfortable."

He hums. "Not everyone. But I guess I try."

There's a comfortable silence again.

Then Mingi glances at your phone screen, noticing the time.

"You have class soon?"

"Yeah. In twenty minutes."

"Damn," he says, standing slowly and stretching his long arms. "Time flew."

"It did," you say. "I didn’t think I'd talk to anyone this long today."

"Lucky you. I'm charming."

You roll your eyes.

He steps a little closer now, towering over you just slightly—but he's not intimidating. He's playful. Easy. Gentle.

"Hey," he says, voice low.

You look up. "Yeah?"

"Do you wanna go out Friday night?"

Your heart skips a beat.

"Like… just us?"

He smiles. "Yeah. Just us."

You swallow, trying not to look too flustered. "Sure. That sounds nice."

He winks. "It's a date then."

And with that, he turns and walks off toward the exit gates, hands still shoved in his pockets like nothing happened.

You just sit there, dumbfounded, heat crawling up your face.

You're pretty sure you don't taste your sandwich after that.

Friday.

When you open the door, the last thing you expect to see is Mingi in all black—loose button-up tucked into slacks, gold necklace glinting faintly under the porch light—and a massive bouquet of pastel flowers in hand.

Your mouth opens. But nothing comes out.

He smiles. "Too much?"

"I—no, no," you sputter, staring at the bouquet. "These are gorgeous. Are those peonies? Wait… are these imported?"

He glances at them. "I dunno, I just told the florist I wanted something that looked like you."

Your face burns instantly.

"Stop saying stuff like that so casually!"

Mingi laughs, handing you the bouquet as you step aside to let him in briefly. "It's true though. Pretty, soft, and a little expensive-looking."

You glare, trying not to melt.

Once the flowers are safely in a vase, you both head out. He opens the car door for you like a damn drama male lead, and you have to mentally scream at yourself not to act too giddy.

The drive is filled with music, light banter, and the occasional glance that lingers too long at red lights. When he pulls up to a high-rise building with a fancy valet and dim chandelier lighting peeking from the glass walls, you blink twice.

"Wait," you say slowly, reading the restaurant sign. "We're eating here?"

"Yeah," he says, unbuckling his seatbelt casually. "Why?"

"Mingi… this place is expensive. Like, minimum 5-digit bill expensive."

"So?" He laughs, turning to look at you. "It's not every day I take someone out on a date. Plus, I invited you. I can't just take you to the food court."

You stare at him. "You're rich…"

He snorts. "Does that make you look at me differently?"

You shake your head. "Of course not. It's just… I grew up thinking that when people date, it should be fifty-fifty. I feel kinda guilty when someone spends too much on me."

Mingi looks at you for a second, soft but amused. "That's cute."

Your cheeks flush.

He continues, voice warm, "But seriously, Y/N, today's my treat. Maybe in the future you can treat me. But for now… your presence is already more than enough."

You make a face. "You're such a flirt.”

He grins. "You haven't seen the half of it."

Dinner is unreal. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the Han River, and your seats are by the glass. The food is plated like art, the conversation flows effortlessly, and the wine Mingi orders (which you swear costs as much as your monthly internet bill) is surprisingly good.

At one point, you both laugh over nothing, and Mingi leans his cheek on his hand.

"You know," he says, "Jongho hasn't shut up about that day."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. For someone who's a year younger than me, he sure loves teasing me like he's older."

You pause. "Wait—Jongho's younger than you?"

Mingi blinks. "Oh, we didn't clarify that, huh?"

"Oh my god, I thought he was the oldest!"

Mingi bursts out laughing. "You're not the first person to say that! Everyone thinks that! He's just too mature for his face."

"Or," you smirk, "maybe you and Yeosang are just too immature."

He gasps. "Hey! I'm mature!"

"I stalked your tagged photos on Instagram," you say nonchalantly. "Your friends call you a big princess."

He chokes on his drink. "You what?"

You grin. "That's right. I did my research."

Mingi leans in closer, voice suddenly low and playful. "Why were you stalking me, hmm? Miss this princess that much?"

Your heart slams in your chest.

"Mingi, stop it," you say, rolling your eyes to hide your very real flustered state.

He chuckles, pleased. "I love teasing you."

"And you're way too good at it."

He shrugs. "Only with people I like."

That line hits harder than it should.

By the time you finish eating, the staff clears your plates and refills your glasses with water. You sit back, full, sipping slowly.

You glance at him. "So… where are we going next?"

Mingi raises a brow. "Someone's excited."

You smirk. "I mean… I haven't been on a real date in a long time. This already beat my expectations."

He leans forward slightly, tilting his head. "Wanna do something more relaxed? We can go for a walk near the river. There's a quiet park close by with lights and benches."

You nod. "That sounds really nice."

"Cool," he says, standing and reaching for your coat. "Let's go. I've got a playlist ready and everything."

"You have a date playlist?"

"I might have made one last night."

You stare at him.

He shrugs. "What? You make me nervous."

Mingi walks you to your door, still chatting about some guy from his dance class who tried to moonwalk in socks and almost dislocated his knee.

You laugh softly, fingers brushing your keys, reluctant for the night to end.

"Y/N?"

You glance up. "Yeah?"

He leans in quickly, and before you can process it, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. Warm. Quick. Sincere.

He pulls back, eyes wide, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry if that was too sudden. You can tell me if you're not okay with it—seriously."

You blink—then laugh, cheeks warm.

"Thanks. I don't mind."

He exhales, a tiny puff of relief, then smiles as he starts walking back toward his car.

"Wait—Mingi!"

He turns around. "Yes?"

You grin, still standing by your door. "Let's go out next week. My treat."

His smile stretches so wide it almost splits his face.

"Okay, princess. See you next week. Update me always, okay?"

He winks, hops into his car, and drives off—while you stand there, clutching your warm cheek and thinking about nothing but him.

A few months later.

You've gone on more dates than you can count now.

Some were cute and simple—arcades, cafés, late-night convenience store runs. Others were more put-together, gallery dates, dance showcases, even grocery shopping for dinner you'd cook together. There's a comfort between you and Mingi now.

Tonight, it's just a Netflix night.

It's Saturday, you're at your place, and Mingi's stretched out on your couch, arm around you while a movie plays. You're curled beside him, blanket over both of your legs, a half-finished bag of popcorn resting on his thigh.

And then—on screen—an erotic scene plays out. Soft moaning, slow kissing, heavy breathing.

Mingi shifts slightly.

"Are you okay watching this?" he asks, voice low, cautious.

You scoff, barely glancing at him. "Uh, yes? I'm not a child, Song Mingi."

He laughs, head tilting. "Well, excuse me. Just making sure."

There's a beat.

Then he glances down at you again. "What are your thoughts on doing this kind of stuff… y’know, as a couple?"

You pause for a second, then answer honestly.

"Um… I don't mind, honestly. Everyone's different, right? But for me—it's about trust. It doesn't matter whether it's before or after marriage. What matters is… being safe, knowing the risks, and being sure you're with someone who respects you."

Mingi nods slowly. "Yeah. I feel the same way."

You turn your head slightly. "Have you done it before?"

That question slips out faster than you meant.

Mingi blinks.

Your eyes go wide. "Oh my god—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make that weird. You don't have to answer—"

"No, no!" he says quickly. "It's just surprising coming from you. But nah—I haven't. I'm a virgin. And I'm not embarrassed."

You smile. “There's nothing to be ashamed of. Some people just use sex like it's a status thing. Like if you're not doing it, you're behind."

"Exactly!" Mingi grins. "It's such a stupid mindset."

He turns slightly toward you. "What about you?"

"I'm a virgin too," you admit. "But I've always been curious. Just never wanted to give that part of me to someone random. One-night stands never appealed to me."

Mingi nods, biting the inside of his cheek. "It's so weird that we both feel the same."

You squint. "Are you just saying that to get on my good side? Trying to look all respectful and boyfriend-of-the-year?"

Mingi gasps, dramatically offended. "What?! I would never! I swear I mean it!"

You elbow him lightly, both of you laughing.

Then—

"…Do you want to try it together?"

You freeze. Eyes wide. "Wait. What?"

Mingi blinks hard. "In the future!! I meant—in the future! Not now—God, Song Mingi, you're an idiot—"

You laugh. Full-on giggle that makes your shoulders shake.

Then you lean in, gently place your hand on the back of his neck, and pull him into a kiss.

It's deep. Soft. Lingering.

He stiffens slightly at first, surprised, but then relaxes—his hand finding your cheek as his lips move slowly with yours. His eyes shut. The world fades.

When you pull away, your forehead rests lightly against his.

"I trust you."

His eyes flutter open and you can see the blush rising to his ears.

You also can't help noticing the very obvious bulge forming in his pants.

You smirk.

"Are you hard just from kissing?" you tease gently.

"…Yeah," he admits shyly. "And because I love you so much, that's why."

He kisses you again, deeper this time, one hand stroking up your back, careful and slow like he's memorizing the shape of you.

And your fingers start to tighten around his shirt.

You're kissing him.

You don't remember when the shift happened—from sitting side by side, to lying down with your fingers gripping his shirt, his hand on your waist, mouths moving together slowly. But you don't care. Mingi's lips are hot, breath a little shaky, body pressing against yours like he wants to crawl inside your skin.

You moan softly when he licks into your mouth—hesitantly at first, then with more confidence as you whimper and tug at his hair. His hand slides under the back of your shirt, fingers brushing up your spine. It's slow. Careful. Nervous.

He pulls back, panting slightly. "Is… this okay?"

You nod, cheeks flushed. "Yes."

"I mean, we can stop anytime."

"I know."

He hesitates, and you see it in his eyes—nervousness, excitement, a little disbelief. You lean forward, kissing his jaw, then whisper in his ear,

"Let’s keep going."

That makes him groan.

Mingi's hands start to explore more freely—stroking your thighs, up your shirt to caress your sides, then cup your breasts over your bra. He's still tentative, like he's worried he's doing it wrong.

"Touch me," you whisper.

"I am," he says, confused.

"No—touch me for real, Mingi."

You guide his hand under your shirt, placing it over your bare skin. He swallows hard, fingers trembling just a little. When he finally cups your breast fully, brushing your nipple with his thumb over your bra, you arch into his touch with a quiet moan.

He gasps. "Holy shit…"

You laugh breathlessly. "What?"

"You feel… really good."

"You're cute when you're this overwhelmed."

"You're evil," he groans.

You switch positions slightly, tugging your shirt off and tossing it aside. He stares at your chest, clearly enchanted.

"You can touch more, you know," you tease.

"Permission granted?" he raises a brow, smiling.

"Permission granted."

His hands roam—soft kneading, lips kissing between your breasts before he pulls your bra down and takes one nipple into his mouth. You gasp, threading your fingers through his hair, while he moans against your skin.

"You're a quick learner," you mumble, breath hitching.

"Porn and imagination," he replies.

You snort. "Didn't you learn this in school?"

"Yeah," he scoffs. "As if the teacher taught us about sex positions and nipple sucking."

You both burst into laughter—even mid-makeout—and it's oddly comforting how fun this is. Messy, awkward, real.

Your hands slide down his chest, under his shirt, feeling lean muscles flexing under your touch. When you unbutton it, he lets you strip it off—his skin warm, his face flushed, his body trembling just slightly.

You reach between his legs, palm cupping the hard bulge in his pants. He jerks.

"Fuck—Y/N…"

You kiss his throat, voice low. "Wanna keep going?"

He pauses.

Then—his eyes widen. "Shit. I—I don't have a condom."

You blink. "Wait, seriously?"

"I didn't think—fuck—I'll go get one!! There's a 7-Eleven like two streets down—"

"You're gonna run to the convenience store right now??"

He's already scrambling off the couch, grabbing his t-shirt with his chest still bare. "I'll be back in ten minutes! Don't fall asleep!!"

You burst into laughter, watching him panic-shuffle into shoes and sprint out the door like a man on a mission.

12 minutes later.

He returns, slightly out of breath, holding a small plastic bag.

You arch a brow. "How many did you buy?"

"Three boxes."

"…Why?"

"I panicked!"

You're both half-laughing when you strip again, kissing between giggles, settling back into each other's arms. But this time, it's different. Calmer. More focused.

Mingi slowly pulls your shorts down, kissing your thighs, his breath hitching when he sees your panties already damp.

"Y/N…"

"Don’t be shy," you whisper.

He slides them down and tosses them aside. His fingers brush between your legs, and when he finally touches you—fingers stroking through your folds—you whimper and press into his hand.

"You're so wet," he says, awed.

"For you."

He swears softly under his breath.

You moan louder when he finds your clit, gently rubbing, unsure at first—then more confidently as your hips twitch under his touch. You reach down, palm cupping his erection through his boxers.

"You're hard again."

"Yeah. You're kinda ridiculously sexy."

You roll him onto his back and tug his pants off.

And when his boxers come down—you both freeze.

"…Oh," you blink.

"Too big?" he teases nervously.

"Guess we'll find out."

Condom's on.

You lie back, legs spread, heart pounding.

Mingi positions himself between your thighs, hands on either side of your face, eyes locked with yours.

"You sure?" he whispers.

You nod. "I trust you."

He lines himself up and pushes in slowly.

It hurts.

Not unbearable, but a deep stretch, an ache that makes your body tense.

Mingi stops instantly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just go slow."

He pushes in again, carefully, slowly—

And then you both freeze.

"…Is that… blood?" Mingi asks, voice rising slightly.

You look down. Just a bit. But enough.

Mingi freaks. "Oh my god. Are you okay?? Did I hurt you?!"

You put a hand on his cheek, trying not to laugh at his horrified expression. "Mingi—it's normal."

"But—are you sure? Should we stop?"

You smile. "Let’s just take a break. Five minutes. You're overreacting."

"I'm not overreacting! You're bleeding. I've seen horror movies that start like this!"

You burst into laughter, gently shoving his shoulder.

After a short pause (and a lot of overthinking from Mingi), you kiss him again—slow, soft, grounding.

"I still want to keep going," you whisper. "If you're okay."

He nods, exhaling. "Yeah. Just don't die on me."

This time when he slides in—it's easier.

Your body's more relaxed, your hands are tangled in his hair, and Mingi is whispering "so beautiful" and "you feel amazing" into your skin like it's the only language he knows.

The pace is slow, careful. You moan under him, hips rolling together, your bodies finally syncing.

He kisses your neck, your lips, your forehead. You're both sweaty and shaky and a little uncoordinated—but it's perfect.

You're his first. He's yours.

You cling to each other like the world is too small to contain what you're feeling.

And when you come—whimpering his name, shaking underneath him—Mingi follows right after, burying his face in your neck with a moan so sweet it makes your heart throb.

Afterward, you lie tangled on your couch, barely covered by the throw blanket.

Mingi's still red in the face. "I think I panicked like ten times."

You giggle. "It was cute."

"Was it… good?"

You nod, nose brushing his cheek. "It was more than good."

Mingi's breath is still a little shaky as he pulls out of you carefully, rolling the condom off and tying it, tossing it into the little trash bag beside the couch. You hiss faintly at the sudden emptiness and sensitivity.

He notices immediately.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just sore. And… wow."

He lets out a soft laugh, brushing your hair out of your face.

"We should clean you up," he murmurs. "Don't want you to get an infection."

You nod, and he helps you sit up slowly. Your thighs are sticky, a little shaky, and you wince slightly as you stand.

"Shit," Mingi mumbles, catching you. "Are you hurting?"

"Not really. Just sore and, you know… my pussy probably looks like a war zone."

Mingi laughs, even as he scoops you up bridal-style without warning.

"MINGI—!"

"We're washing you properly, princess," he says, grinning as he carries you into your bathroom like some romcom idiot boyfriend. "Gotta take care of my girl."

He helps you sit on the toilet, then kneels in front of you, helping you clean. Every touch is gentle now—damp tissue wiping your thighs, warm water trickling slowly, his hands making sure not to rub too hard.

"Sorry if this feels weird," he mumbles.

"It doesn't," you whisper. "I like this."

He smiles at you, so soft, so genuine it makes your chest ache.

Once you're clean and dry, he carries you again—back to your bed this time, gently laying you down before slipping beside you under the blanket.

Your head rests on his bare chest, legs tangled, fingers tracing random patterns on his stomach.

Mingi shifts a little, looking down at you.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N."

You glance up, smirking. "Took you long enough to say that."

"I was busy panicking."

You both laugh.

But then he kisses your forehead.

"I'm serious," he says quietly. "You're so fucking beautiful. Your body… your heart… your whole existence. I've never felt this way before. Not even close."

You blink slowly, heart beating in your throat.

Then he murmurs—

"We're a thing now."

You grin. "We better be a thing. If not, I'll chop your dick off."

Mingi wheezes out a laugh, pulling you into a kiss. "God, I love you."

"Thank you for coming into my life." His arms tighten around you.

"No, you saved me," you say, brushing your nose against his. "Thank you for coming into mine."

You breathe in deeply, warm and full in his arms.

A few minutes later, while cuddling in silence, you shift a little.

"Mingi?"

"Mm?"

You glance up at him, playful sparkle in your eyes.

"…Should I satisfy you more?"

He blinks. "Huh??"

You smirk. "You’re still a little hard. I can feel it against my leg."

He flushes red instantly.

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