#I’m having a lot of thoughts about this au if you can’t tell

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Grew in my Heart

It's finally done you guys!!!! This is my take on a foster Pony au, loosely based on this idea from @freak-l0rd-certifed. It's currently unedited but I'll post it here anyways, and then cross post an edited version on my ao3. @pepsicurtis asked to be tagged when it was done based on a snippet I posted earlier, so here you go. This is part 1, part 2 is fully written and will be up tomorrow.

***************

The lady on the other side of the room is watching him.

That’s okay though. Ponyboy is used to people watching him. Social workers, foster parents, group home staff, police. Everyone watches him all the time but nobody cares, cares for him or about him, so Ponyboy doesn’t mind this lady joining in. He knows he looks weird, with his sticky out ears and the patchy haircut Mr. Fuller gave him and the bruise around his eye. So he understands why this lady is watching him, and doesn't begrudge her for it.  Besides, she looks like a nice lady. Nice ladies don’t usually watch him. If they do they don’t usually look at him with the kindness glowing in the woman’s shining green eyes.

The lady smiles at him and he ducks back into his book, ears burning. She wasn’t supposed to catch him looking.

When he peeks over the top of his copy of Great Expectation a minute later, she’s still watching him, smiling in a way Ponyboy would call amusement if he didn’t know better. He quickly hides again, cursing himself for drawing notice. It’s never a good thing. Never. Better he stay quiet, stay invisible. Invisible kids didn’t get hurt.

He hopes Ms. Summers will come back soon and take him to wherever he’ll be staying next, if only so that he can leave the waiting room, escape from where this nice lady and her nice family are no doubt waiting for them to bring a brand new baby to adopt. Probably one only a few days old, something sweet and cute and new they could love and pamper. Nice people only ever came to the child services offices to pick up babies. Anyone who came to pick up kids was usually about as nice as the people who dropped them off. 

He goes back to his book. Usually it’s easy to escape into the story where he can pretend to be a knight or a hero or anything but stupid, small, unwanted Ponyboy Hewitt, but he can’t seem to concentrate today. It’s not just because of the nice looking lady with the green eyes who keeps watching him, keeping an eye on him the same way she’s been keeping an eye on the three boys who came in with her. His head is also aching something fierce. That last knock from Mr. Fuller was kind of hard. 

Hard enough Ms.Summers thought he should move again anyway.

“Quit fidgeting, Soda,” an authoritative voice from the other side of the room says, and Ponyboy can’t help but glance over. He tells himself it’s because the speaker was kind of loud, but he knows deep down that’s not the case. It’s not because the boy is loud, it’s because he’s cool. He’s a lot bigger than Pony is, and older too, with wavy brown hair and broad shoulders. He could probably look Mr.Fuller square in the face and never be scared, not ever. “We have to show we’re the perfect family or they won’t let us keep Johnny.”

“Really?” The boy who answers has golden blond hair and rosy cheeks with a dimple high in one corner. Pony never really understood what books meant when they talked about eyes twinkling until the boy had pranced into the office a few minutes before, looking like a prince straight from a fairytale. His eyes aren’t twinkling now though: instead, they’re shining with worry. His shadow, a smaller boy with jet black hair and tan skin, looks the same, eyes wide and terrified in his peaked face. “They can’t do that just ‘cause I’m sittin’ wrong, can they mom?”

He turns anxiously to the nice lady who smiles and smooths down his hair.

“Of course not honey,” she soothes, “we don’t gotta prove we’re perfect to keep Johnny, we just gotta prove we love him. And we do.”

She turns her smile on the dark haired boy who flushes and ducks his head shyly, looking unfathomably pleased. Ponyboy swallows hard and looks away, his own ears reddening. It’s not fair for him to hate the dark haired boy, he knows it isn’t, but it doesn’t matter. In that moment, he kind of hates him anyway. 

The woman’s gentle smile has confirmed what he suspected all along. She’s a nice mom, the kind he’s only ever read about in storybooks. She probably kisses those boys goodnight- even the big one, even if he pretended it wasn’t cool- and probably smells like cinnamon and bakes birthday cakes sometimes, puts bandages on cuts, and never slaps them, not ever. 

He wants Ms. Summers to come back. He wants to leave. He doesn’t want to sit here and watch a boy his own age get adopted by the kind of family he wishes he could have more than anything in the world. 

The blonde boy sticks his tongue out at the cool one and makes a fart noise.

“See Darry? They ain’t gonna take Johnny! You’re stupid and wrong!”

“Sodapop Patrick Curtis!” A man Ponyboy assumed must be the nice lady’s husband and the boys’ father boomed, “What have I told you about using that kind of language towards your brother?”

“That it's not how we speak to our family,” the blonde boy, Sodapop, says like he was reading off a teleprompter. Clearly, this was not the first time he’d heard that particular reprimand, “but dad, I was only defending my other brother.”

“Be that as it may,” Mr.Curtis said, “I don’t want to hear that language from you any more.” He sounded stern, but his eyes were still glinting proudly and there was a smile hiding somewhere near the corner of his mouth. Not a scary dad then. A good one.

“Yeah Soda,” the older boy, Darry, grinned, seeming unperturbed by the insult. He was real handsome, Pony thought. If he was Sodapop he’d never call that Darry boy stupid, not ever. “Save that language for socs. Or Two-bit when he’s playin’ poker against Dally.”

Sodapop laughed then, any traces of animosity disappearing, Johnny grinning quietly beside him. 

Ponyboy decides he’s done watching them be happy, and goes to the washroom.

He does his business, standing on tiptoe to reach the sink when he’s done because it’s meant for adults not for kids and there's no footstool. He can’t reach the soap, even when he jumps, so he just settles for rinsing extra long. The paper towel dispenser is also too high to reach so he dries his hands on his pants and goes back to the waiting room. 

“Oh honey, wait,” he doesn’t realize the nice lady is speaking to him until she’s kneeling in front of him, tugging his shirt from where he hadn’t noticed it had gotten twisted and tucked into his pants, pulling it out and smoothing it down nicely, “there you go. All handsome again.”

She smiles, looking like sunshine incarnate, and Ponyboy kind of wants to die.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, sure he must be redder than a tomato, then flees back to his chair on the other side of the waiting room. They’re all watching him now, the nice lady and her nice husband, and the three boys who are now all sitting in a circle on the floor, playing a game of cards. 

He opens Great Expectations to a random page and stares at it hard, trying very hard not to cry. He’s almost seven years old, he’s not a baby anymore. He will not cry just because one lady was nice to him and now her perfect family is staring at him. He won't. 

“Hi!” Suddenly, blonde, beautiful Sodapop is in front of him, grinning like Ponyboy is the best thing he’s ever seen ever, “I’m Soda. Wanna play cards with us?”

He wants to, more than anything, but he knows if he does it’ll just feel worse when they leave and he doesn’t go with them , or when Ms. Summers comes to drag him away to whoever will bother keeping him for the next few weeks, so he can’t.

He shakes his head, unable to actually say no, and Soda deflates, eager grin melting into an unhappy pout, shoulders curling forward, and the twinkle in his eye dimming. He looks like Pony just ruined his whole day with one shake of his head. 

“Ok,” he sighs, dramatic and world weary, and it would seem like an act if his eyes weren’t entirely genuine, “if you change your mind, you can c’mon over anytime. It would be so much more fun with another person.”

He rejoins the other two boys who shoot curious looks Pony’s way, but he ignores them, looking back at his book. He’s not reading though. He can’t. Instead he’s listening to the boys playing cards, wishing more than anything that he could join them.

“I win.” Dark haired Johnny proclaims for the third time and Soda throws down his cards with a dramatic groan, while Darry just laughs. He seems real nice, not like the big boys at the group homes who liked to steal Pony’s books and shove him around. He hadn’t gotten mad at Soda or Johnny even once, not even when they were playing Go Fish and Soda cheated by peeking at his cards. 

“You little shark,” Darry ruffled Johnny's dark hair, the smaller boy flinching a little before leaning into the touch, “how do you keep doin’ that, huh?”

Johnny shrugged. “It’s a secret.”

“You’re cheatin’!” Soda accused.

“Am not!”

“Are too! No one wins as much as you.”

“I’m just good at cards without cheatin’.”

Soda huffed. “You’re lucky you’re my brother now or I’d fight you.”

“I’d win.” Johnny boasts, and suddenly he looks fierce, chin jutting and eyes fiery, like every kid in every home who fought grownups and just ended up beaten down worse. 

“That’s enough,” Darry pulls the two apart, practically picking them each up with one hand, “quit arguin' or I’m putin’ the cards away.”

“No!” Soda throws himself to the ground, arm draped dramatically across his forehead, “I’ll die of boredom!”

“Then sit up and be good,” Darry tells him, and Soda scrambles to do as he’s told. Pony feels his own spine straightening. It’s just because he’s tired, he tells himself.  It has nothing to do with wanting Darry to look at him with the same approval he looks at Soda and Johnny with. He needs to stretch out a bit, that’s all.

“Y’know,” Darry says, disarmingly casual, easily shuffling the cards the way Pony always wanted to but could never manage, the movement too deft for his clumsy fingers, “there's so many more games we could play with four players.” 

If he didn’t know better Pony would swear Darry was looking at him sideways as he said it, grinning conspiratorially like they were sharing a joke. 

“Euchre…gin rummy…spades…signals…”

Pony’s heart jumped. He loved signals. 

It was practically another invitation right? And Soda had said he could join anytime if he changed his mind…surely one game wouldn’t hurt. 

He scoots forward a bit on the chair, considering. 

“Well?” Suddenly Darry- handsome, cool Darry- is grinning right at him, one eyebrow raised, “You in or not?”

And well….that was an actual invitation. From a big boy no less! Usually boys like Darry wanted nothing to do with him.

Pony could feel what was surely a far too eager grin spreading over his face and he nodded, quickly taking a spot on the floor in between Soda and Johnny. Darry’s grin turned triumphant, like he was the one who’d just been invited to play cards by a cool stranger. 

“Nice. What’s your name kiddo?”

“Ponyboy.” He mumbles, bracing himself for laughter that never comes. Instead Darry just nods, starting to deal cards with ease. 

“Tuff name. I’m Darry, and this here’s Johnny.” 

Pony offered a shy smile in response to Johnny’s friendly nod, earlier vitriol forgotten. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault he was lucky. Pony shouldn’t hate him for it. 

“You already met Soda.”

Darry gives Soda a fondly exasperated look, and Pony focuses very hard on the cards being dealt so he won’t have to look at their faces.

Unsure of what to say, he just nods. Luckily, Darry keeps talking.

“Well Ponyboy, I reckon since you just joined you get to pick the game.”

“R-really?”

“Sure.” Darry smiled kindly. Golly he was nice. “We’ll play a few rounds and then switch it up if any of us are getting bored.”

“Can-” Ponyboy hesitated. Darry nods, encouraging him to continue, “can we play signals?”

“Sure. You okay to be on a team with me?”

“Yes,” Pony could hardly believe his luck. Not only were they playing his favourite game, but Darry wanted to be on a team with him!

“Ok,” Soda chirped, “me’n Johnny are going over there so you don’t listen to us pick our signals like cheaters!”

“Soda!” Mr Curtis warned.

“I’m bein’ nice!”

Pony giggled. 

“Ignore him,” Darry advised, scooting over to sit beside him, “I wish I could say he’s just bein’ crazy ‘cause he’s excited, but the truth is he’s always like that. He ain’t really mean though, just has too much energy.”

“I know,” Pony tells him, “I seen mean before. He ain’t it. If he was mean he’d have taken my book or followed me to the bathroom and put my head in the toilet.”

A horrified gasp makes him jump. He’d momentarily forgotten all about sunshiney Mrs.Curtis, but now she’s staring at him in horror, eyes filled with rage. 

What did he do? Did she not want him to be telling her nice golden sons about stuff like that? 

“I-I’m sorry I-” he can feel his ears burning and wishes more than anything he’d stayed on that hard plastic chair where he was safe instead of getting drawn in by the light of the family in front of him. 

“Whoa, hey,” Darry catches him by the arm before he can scramble to his feet, grip not bruising like he’s used to but gentle, reassuring, “where are you going? We haven’t picked a signal yet.”

His smile is so hopeful. Hesitantly, Pony settles back down. 

“Ok.”

“Well?” Darry nudges him gently, carefully. It seems to Ponyboy that someone so big shouldn’t be able to do that and not hurt him just a little bit, but somehow Darry manages it. “What signal do you think we should do?”

Pony glances across the room at where Soda is gesturing exaggeratedly and talking at Johnny a mile a minute.

“Something small,” he decides, “something they won’t notice.”

“Good thinking,” Darry’s approval feels like sitting in the sunshine and eating ice cream and reading a book all at once, “how about…rubbing our noses?”

He demonstrates, rubbing a finger under his nose like he’s scratching an itch and Ponyboy nods, copying the action. 

“Perfect.”

He raises his left hand then. Taps his ear. Waits a few seconds. Taps his ear again.

“What are you doing?” Darry wonders. 

“I have a trick,” Ponyboy informs him.

“Oh?” Darry’s raising a single eyebrow again, looking intrigued. A swell of unearned pride starts in Ponyboy’s chest. 

“Yep,” Pony nods, “they’re watching us right now.”

Darry follows his gaze across the room to where Johnny is watching them out of the corner of his eye, while acting for all the world like he’s still focused on Sodapop. 

“So,” Ponyboy continues. He taps his ear again, “if we do a fake signal now, like we’re practicing, and then do it while we’re playing they’ll call signal and get themselves disqualified and we’ll win.”

“Huh,” Darry reaches up and taps his own ear, “good thinkin’ kid.”

Pony glows.

“We’re ready,” Soda announces a second later, dragging Johnny behind him, “and we have the best signal ever. You’ll never guess it.”

“We’ll see.” Darry challenges, flipping the first card off the deck, and the game begins.

Pony checks his own hand. Two jacks, a two, and a seven. Deciding to go for jacks he passes the two facedown and slides it left to Johnny, picking up the ten Soda placed down for him on the other side.

He passes and trades cards for a few seconds, managing to pick up a third jack on the way. When it’s been long enough it’s not suspicious, he reaches up and taps his ear, trying to make it seem like he’s scratching an itch.

The trick works. 

“Block!” Johnny cries triumphantly, pointing at him and Pony grins, shaking his head. 

“Nope!”

“What?” That’s Sodapop, “We’re out? But-but I’m with Johnny! Johnny always wins!”

“Guess not this time,” Darry grins, raising a hand. It takes a second for Pony to realize he’s reaching out for a high five instead of to cuff him, but when he does he reaches out eagerly, tapping Darry’s palm with his own.

“How did you do that?” Johnny wonders, head tilted in confusion, “I saw you tapping your ear earlier when you were making your signal.”

“It was a trick!” Pony grins. Darry is pleased, and they just won a card game, and no one here has gotten properly mad at him at all. 

Johnny shakes his head, grinning ruefully. “Well it was a good one.”

Soda declared he wanted a rematch, so they played a few more rounds, until Johnny figured out their trick and then both teams had so many fake signals and everyone was too scared to block anyone and could hardly remember their real signals from their fake ones. Darry was just proposing they switch to playing crazy eights when Ms. Summers hurried out of the office, looking harried as usual.

“Oh! Ponyboy,” She looks surprised to see him sitting on the floor, “don’t go botherin’ these nice folks now. I know you’ve had a long day, and I promise I’m workin’ as hard as I can to figure things out so just sit tight and be good a few minutes longer. I just got a few more calls to make and I’ll get you some lunch, alright? C’mon and sit properly now, that’s a good boy.” 

She pulls him to his feet, not roughly exactly, but carelessly, the way he’s used to, and he ducks his head, shoulders curling automatically as she frog marches him back to the plastic chair in the corner of the waiting room she’d parked him in at seven o'clock this morning.

“He ain’t botherin’ us!” Suddenly Soda is on his feet, glaring at Ms. Summers. “We invited him to play. We’re havin’ fun.”

“He’s really no trouble,” Mrs. Curtis smiles, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. Her voice is as sugar sweet as ever but there’s something hard in her eyes nevertheless as she stares Ms. Summers down, “the boys are all havin’ fun playing together and I have no problem keepin’ an eye on him for you. He’s a good boy, like you said.”

She turns the full force of her smile on him, her eyes suddenly all softness, and Ponyboy finds himself wondering what it would be like if somebody looked at him like that every day, like he was something instead of nothing.

“Well, if you’re sure, I suppose that's fine. You be good Pony,” Ms. Summers says, and then she’s gone again, back into the office, back to making phone calls to find someone, anyone, willing to take him in.

Pony stands where she left him, half dragged across the room, lost in the waiting room he’d spend what felt like half his life in.

“That lady,” Soda says, “was a bitch.”

Darry’s eyebrows shoot up, and Soda grins cheekily over his shoulder in a way that says he fully expects a reprimand, but to Ponyboy’s surprise Mr.Curtis just nods slowly.

“Y'know son, I think in this case you might be right.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Mrs. Curtis says, but it’s so half-hearted even Ponyboy can tell. Her eyes are fixed on Ms.Summers’ door, lips pressed into a thin line, and Pony gets the feeling she’s real mad but hiding it real well.

“She don’t know what to do with me,” Pony finds himself defending his social worker. She ain’t mean really, ain't even a bad person. She’s just busy. Too busy to really care. “It ain’t her fault. I cause her a lotta problems.”

“I have a very hard time believing that,” Mrs. Curtis says, “I don’t think you could cause problems if you tried.”

He could. He wasn’t like Curly from the group home, who did everything he possibly could and then some to cause problems, but Pony did create them sometimes. One time he’d burned Mrs.Delvine’s sheets when he was ironing because she hadn’t given him dinner the night before. And he’d put half a shaker of salt in Mr.Fuller’s soup after he gave him this stupid haircut. But he never tried to cause problems for Ms. Summers and he still caused them anyway.

He shrugs. “No one wants me. It’s her job to find someone who’ll put up with me. I can’t blame her for bein’ tired.”

“You’re still a little boy,” Mrs.Curtis shakes her head, and usually Ponyboy hates being called little but he finds he doesn’t mind too much when she says it, “she shouldn’t be takin’ any of her frustrations out on you.”

Pony wants to tell her that his own mother didn’t want to be stuck with him so he can hardly blame his social worker for feeling the same way. He wants to tell her about how tired he is and how much his head hurts and how hungry he is. He wants to tell her a lot of things. He doesn’t.

“Oh honey,” he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he’s wrapped in a warm hug, held protectively against Mrs. Curtis’ chest, his sobs muffled against the stretched collar of her pretty yellow dress. He’s sure he must be getting snot on her, but she doesn’t seem to mind, holding him closer when he starts to squirm away and apologize, cooing to him until he settles down, “oh honey.”

She scoops him up then, because she’s a grown up and he’s still pretty small for six years old, and she sets him on her knee and kisses his forehead, and even if it won’t last and he will never feel this again after today, for once he knows what it’s like to be comforted and loved by a mother. 

Golly he’s tired.

“You just have a sleep now,” she pulls his head down to rest against her shoulder, running a gentle hand through his shorn off hair, “you just have a good sleep and don’t worry about a thing.” 

He feels his eyelids drooping. She drops a soft kiss on his forehead, her fingers never ceasing their soothing motions in his hair.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby,” he hears her say as he drifts off, “I promise. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

He sleeps.

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

trading voices (remus & regulus - muggle au)

a/n: i like to think regulus and remus would get on. this is an exploration of how that might look! i, unfortunately, do not know much bsl (although i should probably get on it, it would be useful). so if you have experience signing, i welcome any and all comments you might have on my presentation of it here!

You can sign?

Regulus’ pale hands move quickly, imbued with curiosity. His eyes are bright and calculating, turning his attention to his brother’s new boyfriend properly for the first time and dissecting him with his gaze.

Yes. Sirius didn’t tell you?

No, never. Are you deaf?

Sort of. Not completely. It’s called sensorineural hearing loss.

Remus finger spells the name, long, scarred fingers settling into each letter with careful and deliberate intention. He makes a face as he does so, and then smiles. Regulus watches his eyes crease up and notes his crooked teeth and decides he quite likes this smile. He’s smiling because he means it.

Long name! I had an accident, when I was younger. It damaged part of my ear. I wear hearing aids because of it, and I also learnt to sign. I don’t get to use it very much though. Only with my mum.

Wow. I had no idea.

Sirius told me you about you. I was pleased when he said you used BSL. Needed another conversation partner - was worried I was getting a bit rusty.

This, to Regulus, is a ludicrous idea. Watching Remus, the way he moves, the fluidity of his gestures and the expressions he makes alongside them - Regulus would have thought communicating like this came about as naturally as breathing. It’s like he walked out of the womb with all this language, all this life to him. It’s sort of magnetic, in a quiet, subtle type of way.

Did my brother tell you about why I sign?

A little. I don’t think he did a very good job explaining it, but he tried.

Right. Sometimes, the words just won’t form in my mouth. They get stuck. I can’t explain it very well myself. Speaking is too much a lot of the time. And then I met this kid, called Evan, and he had a sister, called Pandora, and she taught me how to sign. I found my voice like that.

I’m glad. From what I’ve seen, you have a lot to say.

What do you mean?

Remus grins at him a second time, eyes alight with mischief.

When you were with Sirius. I don’t know what he said, but it must have been stupid. You swore at him when he turned his back. Motherfucker!

He imitates Regulus’ expression, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth in annoyance as he signs the insult. Then, the act dissolves, and he breaks back into that well-worn smile of his, evidently very much amused. Regulus shrugs matter-of-factly.

It was the only good description I could think of.

I like you.

Insulting your boyfriend is what gets me into your good graces? Strange.

I love him, but he really can be a wanker sometimes.

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

golden duo fusion!

he’s a relatively unstable fusion, since ctommy and cpurpled don’t get along all that well

however he’s an incredibly hard hitter and a damn good fighter, he won’t hesitate to beat your ass

ctommys general Personality mixed with cpurpleds PvP skills make him quite the opponent

in my mind he’s similar to stevonnie when they first fused in that instead of being one combined person he has a tendency to get into arguments with himself (these also are typically the reason he defuses)

they only ever fuse if they’re fighting together, and they can hold the fusion throughout the fight cause they get too caught up in kicking ass to remember they hate each other (the only reason they fuse at all is cause they know they’re a good fighter)

his weapon is an axe that can detach and become a long range weapon ^-^

[shuaflix]

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity

❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kim mingyu x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, rated m for mingyu, slow burn, he fell first but she fell harder but then he tripped and ate shit, probably the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written, mingyu and mc are both virgins, sexual content, sexual tension, protected and unprotected sex (i would not advise doing the latter), lots of teasing and banter, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, wall sex, couch sex, public sex, mingyu discovers what pasties are, soonyoung orders 20 connect fours, they are avid enjoyers of the barbie movies

SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn't), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).

PLAYLIST ▸ perfect by one direction • spell by niki • fatal flaw by ellise • give me a kiss by lolo zouaï • step? by bibi

WORD COUNT ▸ 31,273 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ someone (fia) once told me i write too many college aus. i said yeah ur right. and i’m gonna do it again

“BIRDS AND BEES CANNOT PHYSICALLY FUCK.”

You sounded more distressed than informative while you were trying to reason with your longtime best friend, Kim Mingyu. He, on the other hand, appeared visibly worked up over this childish level of argument you two were having.

“It is a metaphor,” he said. “Everyone knows birds and bees aren’t screwing each other up in the trees.”

You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hours ago, you had fucked yourself over after Kwon Soonyoung had casually brought up the topic of body counts. After everyone in your friend group went around listing theirs (Soonyoung: 3; Jungwoo: 3; Minghao: 2; Vernon: 5), you accidentally blurted out that your body count actually existed—one, to be exact.

This was a problem because, to everyone’s prior knowledge, you were a virgin.

Sure, you kissed a few guys before—maybe had a few heated makeout sessions—but you never really went all the way. Yeah, Mark Lee was coming onto you freshman year, but before he could start sliding his hand down your pants, you nearly screamed and killed the vibe. It was safe to say that Mark never thought about trying to get with you again.

After being barraged with questions about who finally claimed your v-card, you decided to blurt out the one name that felt the safest to you.

And that was Kim Mingyu.

Now, you and Mingyu had been friends for a long time, dating back to your freshman year of college when he wound up being your dorm neighbor. After about a month of Mingyu only knocking on your door to use your printer or air fryer, your relationship finally upgraded to having semi-deep conversations and going to the dining hall together. Eventually, Kim Mingyu became a staple in your life—or perhaps more like a pesky gnat you couldn’t get rid of.

Either way, since you figured that Mingyu was equally as sexually inexperienced as you were, you felt as though your safest bet was to keep your secret with him. This way, the both of you could finally not be labeled as the friend group’s token virgins.

To make matters worse, though, you didn’t expect your friends to have such a dramatic reaction to the news. They were convinced that you and Mingyu were going at it every night. In reality, he was only coming over to your apartment at the dead of night because his fridge had been broken since September. You made a pact with him that you two would take turns cooking every other day, and today was his turn.

(You secretly looked forward to the days when he would cook. Mingyu’s culinary skills were surprisingly top-notch. You were pretty sure his flavor palate was 250% more refined than the average human, considering he could tell apart regular butter from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.)

So, while Mingyu was frying salmon, you were bombarding him with questions about sex. After all, if you were now living your life as a self-proclaimed non-virgin, then you had to educate yourself on the birds and the bees.

That was where the argument arose because what the fuck did the birds and the bees have to do with anything?

“So why do they use the birds and the bees?” you asked. “Why don’t they use, like, the butterflies and the bees? You know, pollination? I feel like that makes more sense.”

“It’s ‘cause birds hatch eggs, which is supposed to symbolize, like, female ovulation,” Mingyu explained, “and bees pollinating flowers is for male fertilization.”

You leaned back in your seat, absolutely mind-blown. Mingyu took your silence as understanding and turned on you, pointing his large cooking tongs in your direction.

“You’re way too innocent to be telling everyone we slept together,” he said. “I’d start watching porn or something, ‘cause asking me about the symbolism of the birds and bees isn’t gonna cut it. That’s middle school behavior, Y/N.”

Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment. “I’m not innocent! I know how sex works; I just don’t understand how you like… you know, do the deed.”

Mingyu snorted. “You can’t even say it properly!”

“Can to!” you fired back before folding your arms across your chest. “I just choose not to because of my Miranda Rights. You know, my right to remain silent and all that.”

“I don’t think that applies here.”

“It can.”

“Yeah, okay. But not when Soonyoung asked about your body count?”

“You’re not still upset about me telling the group we slept together, right? I swear it was a total—”

“Of course I’m upset, Y/N,” he interjected. “I wanted my first time to be my first time, and you just told everyone we fucked like it was nothing.”

Yeah, it was safe to say that the tension between you and Mingyu had been growing for a while. You two still hung out as usual, but he would sometimes drop passive-aggressive comments about your fuck-up that would make you feel miserable for the rest of the day. There wasn’t anything you could do but apologize, especially when Mingyu insisted that you two keep up the farce so that your friends wouldn’t get on your back for being a liar.

You could tell he cared—deep, deep down—about how this would affect you. Honestly, he was too good for you.

“Anyway, we can’t do anything about it now, so let’s drop it.” He sighed, and the only sounds you could hear for a moment were the fan running and the salmon sizzling on the pan. You waited until Mingyu started plating the food. “Dinner’s ready.”

For a few minutes, you two ate in utter silence. The only sounds in the room were the occasional scraping noises of fork against plate.

Mingyu decided to speak up. “I submitted one of the pictures I took to an art gallery.”

“Oh, really? The sunset ones you took when you went camping with Jungwoo?” you asked.

“Yeah, a few of the ones I developed looked really good, so he suggested I try sending them in. They haven’t reached out yet, but I’m hoping they put it up for their exhibition.”

“That’s sick. I’ll go see it with you if they put your work up.”

You two relapsed into silence after Mingyu hummed appreciatively. He was back to chewing his thoughts away while you wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

“I fucked up, Gyu,” you admitted. “I really fucked up. I’m sorry.”

He smiled one of those lopsided, easygoing grins that could put anyone at ease. Yet, you still felt disheartened that he knew exactly what you were referring to.

“It’s whatever. At least you saved us from being asked if we’re still virgins.”

“I feel like I’m living a lie,” you grumbled. “It’s been eating at me for the past week. I might just fess up to Soonyoung.”

“You do know he’s gonna get mad at you for lying about something so petty.”

“But it’s even worse if he finds out later on!”

Mingyu just hummed in response, brows knitted together like he was pondering over something.

“Yeah, I guess,” was all he said, ending the discourse as he set your plate of food down in front of you on the dining table. You poked at the delectable salmon with your fork. “Don’t worry about what Soonyoung thinks. Sex isn’t something you can just jump into if you’re not ready.”

“But I am ready,” you complained between mouthfuls of food. “Every time I’m in the mood, I get so close and then chicken out. Maybe I’m just not doing it with the right person.”

“That would also be an important factor.”

You shook your head to dismiss the topic. “Whatever. Maybe they won’t bother us about it now that they think the deed’s done.”

“Maybe,” Mingyu echoed, although clear uncertainty hung in those syllables.

Once, in high school, you lied to your P.E. teacher about being on your period so that you wouldn’t have to participate in swimming for a week. On another occasion, you lied to your parents about going to your friend’s house to work on a group project so that you could actually drink alcohol for the first time.

Lying to Kwon Soonyoung was a whole other realm of difficulty.

It had been less than a day since you and Mingyu brushed off your lie that blew out of proportion. You were stupid to think that it wouldn’t haunt you further because Minghao wore a simpering smile on his face as soon as he saw you and Mingyu walk into the library together.

As soon as you two took your seats at your friend group’s respective table, Soonyoung and Jungwoo immediately started hounding you with more questions. Mingyu was clearly irritated—whether that was because he didn’t want the topic brought up again or he didn’t appreciate Soonyoung getting distracted from their little app developing session, you had no idea. They must have been excited now that they had both of their targets to harass.

“You are never willing to put out,” your bewildered friend rambled, “and you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here.”

“Wow,” Mingyu spoke up. “That was, like, the worst possible way to phrase that.”

You frowned. “Dick repellent?”

“C’mon, everyone here knows about the whole Mark-gate incident.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, whatever went down between Mingyu and I just… happened. I have nothing else to say on the matter.”

“You know what just happens?” Vernon Chwe, who normally kept his two cents to himself, decided to blurt out. “Losing your passport. That’s the kind of thing that just happens.” The sour tone his voice took on indicated that he was still bitter about showing up at the airport with Boo Seungkwan for his Italy trip last summer without his passport. “But sex? That doesn’t just happen. It’s a process.”

“Unless you were under the influence,” Minghao added. Then, he turned to you and Mingyu with curious eyes. “Were you drunk? High? Coked out?”

Obviously, you and Mingyu weren’t smart enough to cover all the bases of your lie, so neither of you planned out a story beforehand. Taken by surprise, he ended up stuttering, “N-no?”

“So it didn’t just happen,” Jungwoo said with a grin. “You two knew what you were doing.”

“I think you guys are making this way deeper than it actually is,” you replied. “We were just horny and things ended up going that way. That’s all there is to it.”

Minghao snickered. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

“Well, you should,” you started, voice rising along with your temper, “because Mingyu’s hot, and it’s perfectly normal for a young woman to want to have sex with someone who looks like a walking wet dream!”

Your table fell silent, and you suddenly wished you had dramatically stormed away after your (loud) confession. There was nothing subtle about the judgment and concern in everyone’s eyes, but most importantly, you were horrified to see Mingyu’s equally horrified reaction to your outburst.

“Walking wet dream,” Soonyoung parroted in a quieter voice, amusement tugging at his lips. “I’m gonna make that his contact name now.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “Well, I guess it checks out. Mingyu did say he found Y/N cute for a while.”

Your cheeks burned. He found you cute?

Mingyu, who was now blushing tomato red, covered his face with his hands and groaned. If you weren’t so mortified about embarrassing yourself and Mingyu in front of your entire friend group earlier, then you might have found him a little adorable.

So, you fucked up. Again.

You played out your conversation with your friends about five different times, thinking of various outcomes that could have taken place instead. If you didn’t blurt out the first thing that came to your head on impulse, then maybe you wouldn’t have dug a deeper hole for yourself.

Plus, you had to deal with Mingyu now.

Jungwoo’s words kept parroting in your head like a broken record. Cute. What did that mean, anyway? Squirrels were cute, and you were hoping you had enough sex appeal to not be put on the same tier as squirrels.

Of course, you ended up leaving the library after mumbling some excuse about having to attend a professor’s office hours. Although that was a complete lie, your friends seemed to buy it. You thought you were off the hook until you received a text from your friend.

mingyu: can we talk later?

You didn’t know what to think. If this lie of yours ended up breaking your friendship with Mingyu for good, you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to forgive yourself. So, you settled for curling up on your couch and spooning ice cream into your mouth until the pain subsided.

It was nearly midnight when the knock came at your door.

When you opened it, the very man you didn’t want to see was standing big and tall. You were tempted to close the door on Mingyu, but there was no point in pushing him away even more.

“I forgot to reply to your text,” you said.

“I know.” Mingyu looked you up and down, which you couldn’t help but blush at, but you figured he was just eyeing your Hello Kitty pajamas. “Can I come in?”

You opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside. “Are you here to yell at me?”

“No, although I should after what you pulled,” he teased, and you were grateful that he sounded lighthearted again. The tension was still thick, though, and you were certain it was because of the indirect confessions of attraction you both let slip. “I’m here to make a proposal.”

“What is it?”

Mingyu shrugged off his jacket, revealing his toned, muscular arms. You wondered just how much work he put into bulking up at the gym, and then your thoughts started to drift elsewhere. Thinking about how buff his chest was, thinking about how broad his shoulders were, thinking about how—

“A solution to both of our problems,” Mingyu interrupted your thoughts as he took a seat on your couch. He pointed at the bowl of ice cream you left on a cushion. “Is this cookies and cream?”

“Yeah, you can have some.” You took a seat next to him and inquired, “So… explain.”

“Okay, uh, well…” He trailed off, trying some of the ice cream after fiddling with the spoon for minutes. “Hey, this is really good ice cream.”

You gently pushed his spoon down before he could scoop more into his mouth. “Gyu, get to the point already.”

“I never noticed your coffee table was such a nice shade of brown.”

“Mingyu.”

“Could this be mahogany?”

“Mingyu.”

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, turning his head down ever-so-slightly. You were a little terrified that he was going to go on a spiel about ending the friendship, but then he said, “We’re both in predicaments. Our friends won’t leave us alone about the sex thing and you’re still heated about being a virgin. I mean, I’m also tired of my partner being my right hand, so like…”

Oh god. Mingyu was going to ask you to have sex. Kim Mingyu was about to get in your pants right now.

And were you against it? Not at all. The only thing that worried you was that you weren’t sure if you were ready—for sex and potentially blurring the lines of friendship between you and Mingyu.

“So, what are you getting at?” you asked, trying to play off your unnaturally high-pitched voice with a cough.

“Well, after that uncomfortable conversation earlier, I was just thinking… I clearly find you attractive and you find me attractive,” he said, and when he ducked his head a little, you could see the tips of his ears flaming red. “I’m saying I’m down for you to be my first.”

You willed yourself not to stammer over your words as you said, “I thought you wanted your first time to be special.”

“I do,” he mumbled. “That’s why I started thinking about it seriously after you called me a—”

“You don’t have to repeat it,” you cut him off quickly, your face feeling hot again. “But yeah, I’ve always thought you were hot—um, objectively. I didn’t think you thought the same about me, though.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied shyly, “but I also know you’ve tried to have sex multiple times and back out whenever you get close.” Before you could respond, Mingyu pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and set it down between you two. “That’s why I made this.”

You eyed the paper curiously, glancing at Mingyu for his approval to go ahead and open it. When he gestured for you to do so, you picked it up and unfolded it.

(EX) VIRGIN CONTRACT

Both parties may request whatever they want to try

Either party may approve or deny the other’s request

The contract ends at either party’s request

The friendship must not be ruined, and if the friendship is ever in danger of being ruined, the contract will be terminated.

“I figured it would be less intimidating with you since we both have no idea what’s going on,” Mingyu continued. “This way we can explore whatever we want without judgment.”

(Mingyu would never admit it to you, but part of him was eager to see you underneath him with that shy expression of yours melting away into pure, unadulterated lust. And you would never admit that you wouldn’t exactly hate that.)

“I’m not gonna lie,” you started, “I think we would be bullied even more for this.”

“That’s the unspoken rule number five,” he explained. “We keep whatever this is between ourselves. I know you struggle in that area, but—”

“Oh, shut up.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you set the paper down. “I don’t know…”

“Take your time to think it over.”

“Actually, I’ve made up my mind. Let’s do it.”

Mingyu did a double take, his features curiously pulling together. “Um, I meant that you could take a few days. Not milliseconds.”

There was a reason as to why you caved quickly. Your thoughts had been running at a billion miles per hour for the entirety of your conversation with Mingyu. You were confident that your decision was well-calculated.

Did you want to fuck Mingyu? Yes.

Were you terrified of possibly ruining your friendship? Absolutely.

However, considering the conversation had already happened, the course of your friendship had drastically changed already. The only thing even more potentially damaging than bringing physical intimacy into the relationship was rejecting this offer. If you turned Mingyu down now, your interactions with him would soon fizzle into awkward, cordial small talk.

“Hey, I think it’d be fun,” you decided to say instead of giving him the rundown of your internal crisis.

“Really? You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t agree to it if I wasn’t. I mean, it’s a big proposal.”

He gave you one of his lopsided smiles. “Right. I didn’t wanna rush into it or anything, but I think we should talk about it more when you’re ready.” Mingyu picked up the remote and handed it to you. “So, wanna get back to our Barbie marathon? We’re on Fairytopia, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, taking the remote from him with a touch of disappointment settling into your bones. Part of you was hoping he would get to it right away. “Yeah, we can talk about it later.”

You two did not talk about it.

It had been approximately six days and Mingyu had not reached out once about your contract. You were starting to think that you should have added some sort of clause about response time because the silence was killing you.

The next time you saw him was at a Kappa Sigma party. Soonyoung and Jungwoo always extended an invite to you, which was nice because that meant you could walk right in without being checked out and approved by some frat brother. You would normally drag Shin Ryujin along with you, but she insisted that she wouldn’t be able to wake up for her midterm if she went out to drink. Thus, you figured you wouldn’t show up, but after seeing Mingyu in the background of Minghao’s Snapchat story (which was a video of Vernon snorting a line off some girl’s stomach), you got your ass out of bed and threw your sluttiest top on.

Thirty minutes later, there you were, listening to Lee Chan ramble inside of the Kappa Sigma house. Ten feet from your target: Kim Mingyu.

“I got scammed, Y/N,” the frat brother, who was deep in five beers and four vodka shots, ranted to you while occasionally slurring his words. “Soonyoung ropes me into joining for friends, but I already knew all the people in the frat, anyway!” He paused to take another swig of his beer. “Zero benefits! Zero!”

Although you enjoyed Chan’s company, you were really trying to get Mingyu’s attention. Since walking in and waiting for him to approach you didn’t work, you were going to have to march up to him directly. Unfortunately, the drunk freshman in front of you was not helping one bit.

“That blows,” you replied sympathetically, “but at least you get to party, and you don’t have to worry about finding housing.”

Chan scoffed. “Yeah, if I’m not a sober monitor, then I just get alcohol poisoning. I can never win.”

For the next thirty minutes, you ended up listening to Chan drone on about how the world was against him. Eventually, he started to realize that he didn’t have it all that bad, and then he passed out after you helped him to the couch. You gave up on trying to get Mingyu’s attention; all of your attempts had been in vain, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

After talking to Vernon briefly, though, you found the opportunity to strike. Jungwoo announced a game of rage cage, so you were going to expertly place yourself next to Mingyu. Since everyone else would be focused on the game, you would use that chance to invite him to talk privately later.

Your plan was going smoothly until you stood next to Mingyu and realized he was a shot away from blacking out.

“You look like you’ve been through the trenches and back,” you said.

“Can’t tell where the floor is.”

“Under your feet.”

“Wow, you’re right.”

He was most definitely not in the right headspace to have a conversation about the contract—or to have any conversation, really.

“I’ve been wondering if you’d show up,” he continued. “I wanted to see you.”

Curse your heart for fluttering pathetically.

“You did?” you asked.

There was no time for Mingyu to respond because everyone around the table started screaming at you. When you turned your attention back to the game, you realized the red solo cup was in front of you and Vernon was about to stack you.

“Careful, Y/N, Vernon’s been on a roll,” Minghao taunted, eyes lit up with amusement as he watched you fumble with the ping pong ball.

“I have,” Vernon confirmed. From across the table, he smirked at Joshua Hong, who you figured was his victim from the last game.  

Your lips curled up in a lazy grin. “Yeah? Let’s see if you can stack me even once.”

So, you lost. Miserably.

Vernon was on a roll, and you formally apologized for ever doubting him. (You apologized after getting stacked for a third time, but Vernon didn’t ease up on you. He was a ruthless killing machine.)

On top of the six times you got stacked, you also ended up being the unfortunate bitch cup receiver. You downed it without too many complaints; you were past the point of scowling through your drinks. It would have been less pathetic if you hadn’t talked yourself up so much.

On the bright side, you and Mingyu had gotten so drunk that Soonyoung ushered you two into his room to sober up. Since Chan had already thrown up on the couch, your friend decided that it was better to make sure you were in close proximity to a toilet.

Soonyoung instructed, “Remember, if you feel like throwing up, make sure you go to the—oh my god, Chan, keep your clothes on!”

He groaned and slammed the door shut so that he could chase after his intoxicated friend. You were just thankful that you weren’t that drunk. The room was starting to spin, however, so you were dreading waking up with a headache in the morning.

“You were terrible today,” Mingyu mumbled. His shoulder brushed against yours, and you ended up leaning against him. “But I’m glad you sucked ass.”

Your lips curled in distaste. “What the hell?”

“I only got stacked once thanks to your god-awful performance.” He let his head hang so that he could suck in a sharp breath. “Wow, I feel like shit.”

“You’re such a bitch,” you complained. “I was gonna ask you something serious, too!”

“Oh, really? What is it?”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you now!”

You almost stammered at the end of your sentence when you saw Mingyu’s puppy eyes on full display. Despite the pleading look on his face, you couldn’t help but notice the way the stray rays of sunlight that poured into Soonyoung’s room were catching onto Mingyu’s honeyed skin. It made his dark brown eyes look like melted amber.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making you feel hot or if the humidity was created by the drunk college students packed into the house like sardines, but Soonyoung’s room felt balmy. Your shirt clung to the sweat beading your back, but all you could think about was how close you and Mingyu were.

It seemed as though he was thinking the same thing. “We should open a window or something.”

“It’s so hot,” you whined. “Feels like a sauna in here.”

“I know. Soonyoung never opens the windows, even though there’s no air conditioning in here.”

“He should invest in a fan.”

“Yeah, that’s why I like your place. You have a nice cooling system.”

You laughed. Mostly because you had very different intentions for this conversation, and here Mingyu was, talking about your air conditioning.

You were sobering up, but you still felt drunk off Mingyu’s attention.

Like he was sharing a secret, your best friend leaned in close to your ear while trying to suppress a giggle. “Should we get out of here?”

“And go where?”

“Your place. Duh.”

“I don’t know if I can even walk downstairs,” you mumbled, suddenly afraid that he was going to think you were a bore.

“I can,” Mingyu said, and before you knew it, he was kneeling down with his back facing you and his arms reaching back. You just stared at him for a moment before he shot you back a questioning look. “What’re you waiting for? Get on.”

You sort of let your body fall against his, but Mingyu helped you regain your balance almost immediately. He gripped your thighs firmly while you looped your arms around his neck. When he stood up, you almost gasped upon realizing how high up you were. It was in that moment when you were suddenly hyper-aware of how massive he was, how strong his back muscles were, and—

He yelped. “Bug!”

—how this man was terrified of everything under the sun.

If you had Mingyu’s height, you wouldn’t let anything stop you. But here he was, cowering even as he towered over the tiny spider that was crawling across the floor.

“You have got to be kidding,” you deadpanned. “You can so easily step over it.”

“They jump.”

“Name one instance where a spider’s ever jumped on you.”

He stiffened. “Uh, never. But that’s because I avoid them at all costs.”

Eventually, with some persuasion and promises of ice cream at home, Mingyu did manage to step over the beast, which was a common house spider. Kim Mingyu struck gold in the gene pool lottery. It was only fair that he had some stupid-sounding fatal flaw.

You whispered instructions on how to sneak past the crowd and giggled into his ear while he tried to creep downstairs and walk out the front door. Thankfully, the house was so packed that hardly anyone noticed you and Mingyu leaving. Only a few guys outside greeted him, but they were simultaneously puking their guts out.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to the party?” you asked as your chin rested on his shoulder. You were genuinely curious because Mingyu always invited you if there was a party. “I only found out when I saw Minghao’s story.”

“Uh… I was about to text you, but then Soonyoung wouldn’t shut up with the teasing and I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable if you showed up,” he admitted, and, from where you were, you could see the tip of his ear turning pink. “But I was hoping you’d come on your own.”

You tightened your grip on him. “I wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable.”

There was silence for a while between you two, and you felt like the balmy night air was thick with undiscussed feelings. A topic that you and Mingyu were mindful about skirting around, even when the aftereffects of liquid confidence still coursed through your blood. You could hardly even realize it yourself.

Your chin rested on his shoulder. Mingyu had given you piggyback rides before—back when you two were freshmen and still a little shy around each other. The first time was when you ended up twisting your ankle during a Halloweekend party, resulting in Mingyu offering to carry you back to your dorm. You hadn’t had many guy friends before college, so the thought of casual physical contact with a man was strange to you back then.

Everything slowly started to feel natural between you and Mingyu. Now, it was as if someone took a hammer and smashed your perception to pieces. The air was suddenly stifling and you were overly-conscious about how Mingyu’s chest swelled whenever you adjusted your hold on him.

He set you down once he reached the front door of your building. You had mostly sobered up by now, though you were certain you would lose your footing if you took the stairs instead of the elevator.

By the time you two had reached your door, you were already going off on some tangent about how you technically had more sexual experience than Mingyu, despite your total confusion over the actual mechanics of intercourse.

He kicked off his shoes before walking into your living room. “I think you’re underestimating me. Just because I’m saving my first time doesn’t mean I have zero experience whatsoever.”

“Saving it for me,” you teased.

“God,” Mingyu hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if your words were truly headache-inducing (but it was mostly to hide his blush). “I never should’ve told you that.”

“Hey, you can’t take it back now.” A giggle bubbled from your lips. “You think I’m cute.”

“I didn’t say cute.”

“I’m repeating exactly what Jungwoo told me.”

“No, he downplayed it for you. I told him”—Mingyu had turned to you fully, placing his hands on your shoulders and letting them slide down to your forearms—“that you’re…” It was as if he snapped out of some sort of trance, shaking his head to stop himself from rambling. “Never mind. Forget what I said.”

“What?!” you exclaimed, pushing at his chest. Hard. “You can’t just say that and back out!”

He winced, shooting you those puppy dog eyes that always made you melt. “I’ll tell you one day.”

“And that day better be today, ‘cause—”

“One day,” he repeated. “It’s too late now. We have a busy day tomorrow.” Mingyu squeezed your forearms gently before letting go and fishing out his phone and keys from his pockets. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Whoa, hold on. What do we have tomorrow?”

The corner of his lip raised in amusement, nearly going unnoticed. “We have that contract to get to, don’t we?”

Obviously, you weren’t able to get any sleep when Mingyu’s words kept sending butterflies to your stomach.

It took an hour of tossing and turning for you to finally get some sleep. That smirk of his kept replaying in your head, flashing behind your eyes over and over again until you forced yourself to blink the image away.

When you woke up in the morning, it was because Mingyu gently tapped your shoulder until you stirred. Since it was a Saturday, you were hoping to sleep in, although the sunlight making Mingyu’s tanned skin glow under its rays was a pleasant sight to wake to.

He grinned, flashing his brilliant white teeth. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” You yawned. “Was the couch comfy?”

“Yeah, I fucking love your couch,” he said, “but it did get a little lonely out there.”

Your chest seized for a moment. Was that an invitation? Or was he suggesting that you could have joined him? Not to mention you could detect the faintest trace of longing in his eyes.

It was too early in the morning for you to think straight, though, so all you could do was that breathy laugh of yours—the one that always sounded frazzled and nervous. Laugh and change the topic.

“So, why’re you up so early?”

“I gotta meet up with Jeonghan real quick, but I’ll drop by later,” he explained. “Forgot I agreed to go to the gym today.”

You remembered Jeonghan—the cute senior from Kappa Sigma that always brought a different girl to their parties. You had spoken to him once or twice after Soonyoung introduced you. It was all small talk, though, nothing of significance. The only distinct memory you had of Jeonghan was how Soonyoung sent him home in an Uber during one party he was blacking out at last year only for Jeonghan to take that Uber right back to the party.

“Alright,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. “You can take the spare key.”

“Say less.”

After Mingyu left and you stretched in your bed for a while, your phone went off with several texts from Minghao. Some of them were from last night, but you had passed out by the time he started sending them.

hao: dude where are you hao: AND WHERE’S MINGYU hao: we’re about to uber back soon hao: soonyoung said he left u guys in his room and now ur both missing?? hao: wait jk i forgot i have ur locations hao: BRUH hao: oh my god hao: u gmfu hao: psa i will be extremely annoying until you spill everything

hao: GOOD MORNING hao: RISE AND SHINE hao: now spill

y/n: good morning. y/n: dot dot dot

hao: bitch hao: i'm onto you

y/n: 😀 y/n: wanna get breakfast? y/n: we can go to that new açai bowl place that opened up near campus y/n: i can spill then

hao: sure i’ll pick you up in 10

The açai bowl place was unfortunately mediocre.

You were not impressed with the range of toppings and neither was Minghao. You two ended up settling for your regular orders with several inclusions left out. To top it off, the bowls were insanely overpriced, leaving you and Minghao thoroughly unsatisfied.

You sat at one of the tables with him, scooping granola into your mouth as you listened to him talk about his experience at the party. Apparently, Vernon started to black out as soon as they made him do a keg stand, so Minghao and Jungwoo took the liberty of taking him home and tucking him in bed. Soonyoung was scrambling around the house because the party had gotten so out-of-hand that one of the neighbors called the cops on them.

You ended up explaining how you and Mingyu ended up going home, fighting down the heat spreading across your face whenever Minghao would shoot you a knowing look. It was as if he was saying, Oh, man, you two are practically already dating.

“Yeah, and about that,” he started and cleared his throat, “you two are still virgins, right?”

Your jaw went slack for a moment, and all you could do was stare at your friend until he let out a questioning hum.

“What?” Minghao continued. “Okay, I haven’t told the others about what I noticed or anything. I just picked up on it last night.”

You frowned before asking, “You picked up on… my v-card?”

“No.” He scoffed. “I picked up on the way you and Mingyu were acting around each other. If you guys actually had sex, there’s no reason for you to act all shy whenever Mingyu comes near you. So, I concluded that either you two haven’t fucked or you caught feelings for him.”

You swallowed hard. For the most part, Minghao had pieced it together perfectly, but you were unsure about his last presumption.

First of all, you had zero idea that you were acting shy in front of Mingyu last night. Sure, there were moments where you felt like your heart dropped to your stomach, but you didn’t think it was noticeable enough for other people to pick up on it.

Second of all, you were pretty sure you were just caught up in the excitement of potentially having sex with Mingyu. Minghao was probably mistaking your anticipation for an emotion too complex for you to feel for your best friend.

Lastly, he caught your virgin self red-handed. Since you still hadn’t established a proper story with Mingyu yet, there was no way you could defend yourself now. Not when you were blanking on excuses.

“H-huh?”

“You were still acting like Little Miss I’ve Never Felt The Touch Of A Man, is what I’m saying.”

You frowned. Okay, rude.

“Fine. You got me,” you replied, sighing in defeat. “We’re both still virgins. I really fucked up when I started running my mouth in front of you guys.”

Minghao almost seemed alarmed for a moment, but his expression relaxed. Slowly, his smile tugged into a proper laugh. It wasn’t enough to wipe the mortified expression off your face, though; in fact, you felt even more humiliated.

“I knew it,” he said. “I knew there was something fishy about your story!”

“Please don’t tell the others,” you begged. “Soonyoung’s gonna hate me if he finds out I lied to him.”

Kwon Soonyoung was especially sensitive about lying. Most people were, of course, but Soonyoung prioritized trust in his relationships, whether they were platonic or romantic. Once, when he found out his ex-girlfriend lied about where she would go on Friday nights, he broke up with her a week later.

You weren’t sure how he would react to your lie, but you weren’t enthusiastic about finding out.

“You’re gonna tell him eventually, though, right?”

You sighed. “I know I have to eventually. I just have to find the right timing. Things got complicated between Mingyu and I, so I’m trying to figure that out first.”

Minghao took a sip from his Coca-Cola. “What happened between you and Mingyu?”

You swallowed down a mouthful of açai and granola before explaining, “So, basically, to clear up the lie about Mingyu and I, we’ve decided to lose our virginities to each other.”

“You’re losing your virginity… to cover up a lie?”

“No! I mean, technically yes, but, like, I just think—”

“Listen,” he interrupted. “I know you’re terrible at math, but let’s put two and two together here.” Despite the offense drawn across your face, he continued, “Mingyu’s been saving himself for that ��special someone,’ so obviously, he wouldn’t just lose his virginity to anyone.”

“You’re saying he’s gonna back out?”

“I’m saying—” Minghao cut himself off and a smile spread across his face. “You know what, I’m gonna let you figure that out for yourself. My work here is officially done.”

“What?! You can’t just say that and give me no context!”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Vernon told me not to meddle, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut until you see it for yourself.”

“See what for myself?” you asked with an exasperated sigh.

“You’ll see.”

When you got home, Mingyu was already in your house with a large whiteboard in the center of your living room. Before you even opened your mouth to ask where the hell it came from, he explained that he “borrowed” it from the community room downstairs. (You made a mental note to return it before anyone noticed it missing.)

Your head was still turning after your conversation with Minghao, and you weren’t all that great at hiding your expression. As soon as you made eye contact with Mingyu, you could tell he knew something was up.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you replied as you shrugged off your jacket. “How was the gym? Also, why the whiteboard?”

He grinned. Scrawled on the board in blue Expo marker were both of your names as headers for columns. Mingyu handed you a black marker and stood with one hand gripping the top of the board.

“Step one,” he started. “We write down anything we wanna try, and then we approve or veto the options.”

You uncapped the marker. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“No judgment?”

“No judgment.”

You started writing down whatever desires you had pushed down for years. Albeit short, you figured they covered all the bases. Weeks ago, you wouldn’t have dreamed of admitting any of them to Mingyu; now that your relationship with him took a turn, however, it wasn’t so hard to reveal them.

Next to you, Mingyu was shamelessly jotting sex positions down like he had them memorized. You peeked at his list out of the corner of your eye and nearly did a spit take. The first one on your list was kissing, but Mingyu had started off with anal.

Although he agreed to zero judgment, you were finding it hard to feel the same way.

Once you two were done, you stepped back to look at the whiteboard with its two complete lists side-by-side. Mingyu’s list was considerably longer than yours, but you stood by your own. You felt as though yours was more natural, more gradual.

Y/N

Kissing

Neck kissing

Touching

Penetrative sex

MINGYU

Anal

69

Cowgirl

Wall sex

Public sex

Phone sex

It had come to your attention that Mingyu, like every other man, was incredibly horny.

You had been worrying about the act of sex itself for ages, and your best friend was suggesting something far beyond your capabilities? You weren’t even considering doing anal in the next ten years, let alone for the sake of your contract.

Mingyu snorted. “Kissing.”

“You said no judgment!”

“I thought it was cute, that’s all,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Anyway, anal?” You scoffed. “I don’t know if your list is exactly beginner level.”

“Well, that’ll just make you an expert by the end of this, won’t it?”

You couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. “Okay, how about we start with my much more reasonable list, and then we can get to your scary, intimidating one once we actually, um… do the deed.”

“You have seriously got to start just saying sex.”

“Shut up.”

Mingyu’s smirk was not helping your blush one bit, so you just pretended the embarrassing warmth spreading across your chest didn’t exist. Instead, you grabbed the whiteboard eraser to wipe off the ink from the word anal.

Your best friend slash fuckbuddy let out a petulant whine, so you smacked his bicep.

“I approve of the others for now,” you started shyly, “but we start yours after my list is finished. Do you have anything from mine that you don’t approve of?”

The question wasn’t very sensible, considering all of your list was a prerequisite for more than half of Mingyu’s list. However, after your conversation with Minghao, you were still unsure if Mingyu actually wanted to go all the way with you.

“Nope,” he answered, smiling at you with questioning eyes as if his answer had already been clear as day. “Your list is pretty tame, y’know? Not that it’s a problem or anything.”

Before you could answer, he sucked in a sharp breath and looked over at the board again. “Actually, maybe we should get rid of your first one. It might mess with, uh, rule four.”

Ah, the fourth rule: The friendship must not be ruined, and if the friendship was ever in danger of being ruined, the contract would be terminated.

You were devastated that it had come back to bite you in the ass.

In an attempt to veil your disappointment, you shrugged and turned your head away so that your best friend wouldn’t see the rejection clouding your eyes.

“I’m just curious, but why’re you against kissing?” you asked. “I mean, I just feel like it’ll be awkward if we don’t.”

“You know, it’s the whole neurotransmitters and dopamine rush thing, Y/N,” he explained. If you weren’t feeling so miserable about your best friend turning you down, then you probably would have giggled at his random neuroscience tidbit. “It’s such an emotional act.”

Part of you understood Mingyu’s reasoning behind avoiding kissing. If you were so affected just by his words and eye contact now, then kissing him would mess with your emotions. You weren’t exactly sure if you held kissing at more of a sentimental level as Mingyu did, but you agreed that it intensified intimacy.

Before you were about to hesitantly accept his words, though, Mingyu added, “Judas, in fact, betrayed Jesus with a kiss.”

You couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth.

“Yeah,” you started, “I don’t think these situations are comparable.”

After gingerly prying the whiteboard eraser from your fingers, Mingyu crossed out “kissing” from your column. The dried ink from the dry erase marker streaked across the board, leaving fragments of ink scattered about that he didn’t bother wiping off. (You were a little distracted by the little zap of electricity that coursed through your veins after his fingers brushed against yours.)

Without missing a beat, Mingyu asked, “You don’t have, like, crabs or anything, right?”

“You’re accusing me of having pubic lice?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” he mumbled, “I guess it sort of sounds like I am. I mean, I don’t actually think you have crabs! I just—you know… it’s good to ask.”

“No, Mingyu, I don’t have crabs.”

“Good, good.” His voice trailed off awkwardly and he leaned against the frame of the whiteboard. His unrelaxed mannerisms were making you feel nervous. “That’s always good.”

“Do you have crabs?”

“I do. Her name’s Clawdia, but with a w, like claw.”

“Mingyu,” you warned.

“I’m kidding.” He held his hands up in defense. “No crabs here. Except Clawdia, but she belongs to Wonwoo.”

You rolled your eyes. Mingyu’s roommate since freshman year, Jeon Wonwoo, was someone you surprisingly didn’t have a lot of interactions with despite him and Mingyu being best friends. Whenever you went over to Mingyu’s place, Wonwoo was normally locked up in his room, either studying or gaming away.

Apparently, he also owned a crab.

“Alright, so,” you started in a small voice, “when do we start?”

His eye contact was galvanizing, sending little currents shooting up your spine. For a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. All you could think about was how brown Mingyu’s eyes were and how they swallowed you whole whenever his gaze set on you.

Normally, you could see glimmers of sunlight dancing across his irises. Now, the look in his eyes was almost ferocious, like two voids that sucked you in.

His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and you almost picked up on the raised pitch of his voice when he proposed, “How about later?”

“Later sounds perfect.”

Telling white lies became increasingly easier around Kim Mingyu.

Later never came.

You were starting to experience major déjà vu because it was so like Mingyu to chicken out after giving his word. Not one phone call or text to meet up, nor did you two bring it up in day-to-day conversations.

On one particular night, though, Mingyu sent you a semi-suggestive message, asking for permission to come over. Since you figured you would be in for a long night, you made sure to shave and spritzed yourself all over with your favorite Givenchy perfume. To your dismay, Mingyu was quick to mention that he wanted to continue your Barbie movie marathon. You begrudgingly spent your night watching Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses.

(And you swore his fingers brushed against yours under the blanket you two shared, but when you glanced up at his face, flickering with the shifting TV light, he pulled his hand back faster than it happened.)

The very moment a Barbie movie would start playing, you knew that absolutely nothing would happen between you and Mingyu. And, even if he tried to initiate anything, you wouldn’t reciprocate because there was no fucking way you would taint your wholesome Barbie marathon experience with sexual intercourse.

A week flew by without any follow-up on the contract, but you supposed you were partly to blame, too. There were several times where you could have brought up the topic yourself, but you were just as hesitant as Mingyu. Talking about it was one thing, but acting on your hormones was a feat of its own.

All the waiting and anticipation over Mingyu hopefully making a move was simply making you hornier. It was hard to even think properly whenever you started daydreaming of his lips on top of yours, dragging down your neck, moving down your body—

“—and that’s why you will be receiving twenty boxes of Connect Fours.” Soonyoung finished, causing you to snap out of whatever fantasy was playing in your head.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t really know how to articulate myself better here,” he said. “Twenty boxes of Connect—”

“No, no, I heard what you said,” you interrupted, “but why the fuck?”

He waved your question off. “That’s not important. What’s important is that you let me know when you get those twenty boxes.” He flashed you a grin and a thumbs-up when you just nodded, dazed. “Thanks. This is why I love you.”

You took a nervous sip from your vanilla milkshake. (Soonyoung worked for the Undergraduate Student Council, which meant you could exploit him for his free dining dollars.)

You couldn’t help but feel crushing guilt every time you spoke to Soonyoung, especially when you two were hanging out one-on-one like this. Mingyu had been harping on and on about how it wasn’t that big of a deal, but maybe it was because the thought of losing your virginity was such a huge deal to you that you kept brooding over your lie.

And, to make matters worse, all you could think about was Mingyu because you were horny out of your mind. The longer he stayed away from you, the longer you kept thinking about him. You almost wished he hadn’t initiated this stupid contract if he wasn’t going to follow through with it.

“Hey, look, it’s your walking wet dream,” Soonyoung said, and lo and behold, there he was: Kim Mingyu fitted in a sleeveless white shirt and gray sweatpants.

He was walking with Jungwoo, whom you assumed came from the gym, too. Mingyu’s hair was damp and matted to his neck, and his muscles were accentuated by a faint sheen of sweat. They didn’t notice you and Soonyoung at first, too occupied with their own conversation, but after Soonyoung hollered from the table you two were sitting at, the two men started looking around until they spotted you.

Maybe you were seeing things, but it was almost like Mingyu seized up at the sight of you.

“Y/N!” Jungwoo was looking at you as if a lightbulb just went off in his head. “I’m formally inviting you to join Kappa Sigma in Vegas this weekend.” When you were about to protest, he continued, “Apparently, Chan’s date flaked on him last minute, so he’s looking for someone else to go with him.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “So what’s the catch?”

“No catch. You get to go to Vegas for free and hang out with me and Soonyoung.”

“Seriously?”

Soonyoung grinned. “C’mon, it’s Sin City.”

Mingyu scoffed. “Wait, this weekend? Isn’t that kind of short notice?”

“It’s Vegas, and everything’s covered. All you have to do is pack a bag or two.” Jungwoo clicked his tongue before patting Mingyu’s chest. “You won’t mind, right? Y’know, since you two fucked and all.”

“Jungwoo!” you screeched, horrified by his blunt wording.

“What? It’s true.”

Mingyu lowered his gaze. “It just happened once. No big deal.”

“See, Mingyu doesn’t have any hard feelings,” Soonyoung said, elbowing you gently in an attempt to lighten your mood. “You have Chan’s number, right? Just shoot him a text when you decide.”

You nodded half-heartedly. Some sort of sick grief pressed against your lungs, snaking its way up your throat and making it hard to breathe. It grew hotter and hotter until you had to swallow it down before any tears started rolling down your cheeks.

“We gotta get to our next class,” Jungwoo said, jerking a thumb in Mingyu’s direction, “but just say yes! Think about it: free hotel, free transportation, free drinks—we’ve got you covered.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, huffy. “Maybe I will.”

You felt stupid. Completely and utterly stupid.

Kim Mingyu, although easy on the eyes, was proving to be quite difficult for your heart.

It wasn’t like you two were dating, nor had either of you even kickstarted your friends with benefits relationship, so there was no reason for you to be upset over his words. As many times as you tried to push it down, you kept seeing his twisted expression when he uttered those three words that pricked you like thorns. No big deal.

No big deal that you felt like crying your eyes out over Kim Mingyu, who wasn’t even anything to you other than a friend. No big deal that you were curled up on your couch, watching a TV show that you were barely paying attention to, but the noise made you feel less alone. No big deal that you were scooping your cookies and cream ice cream into your mouth, thinking about how it was his favorite flavor.

The stupid part was that Mingyu was just covering up your mess. You two didn’t even have sex, and he was just going along with the lie that you came up with. There was no logical reason for you to be mad at him.

And you realized that logic wasn’t often involved in matters of the heart, anyway.

A knock came at your door at approximately 9:15 p.m.—right when you were about to take a shower and drag yourself to bed. You figured it was Mingyu before you even opened it because no one else would show up uninvited.

“Hey,” he said, taking note of your disheveled appearance with an agonizingly slow sweep of his eyes. An ugly part of your heart wanted to believe he possibly could have been checking you out. “Are you busy right now?”

“I was just doing my assignment, but it’s due tomorrow, so I’m chilling.”

“Sorry, I should’ve called or texted.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s all good. Did you need anything?”

You could see him visibly swallow before asking, “Can I come in?” As soon as you opened the door wider, letting Mingyu step through the entry-way, he turned to you and let his shoulders sag. “I feel like I fucked up somehow.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” you said, keeping your back turned to him as you closed and locked your door. Your hand lingered on the door knob for a moment until you pulled away and headed to your living room, hardly sparing Mingyu a glance. “You were just covering for our lie.”

That clearly wasn’t what was plaguing Mingyu, though. Even after you clarified that he hadn’t done anything wrong, it still looked like something was bothering him. His eyes were hard and his jaw was jutting out, which was what his face usually set into when he was sulking.

“Are you really going to Vegas?” he asked, then added, “With Chan?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know yet. It sounds fun. I mean, they’re covering practically everything for me, so I might.”

The reality was that you didn’t care if you went to Vegas or not. Sure, you were more interested after finding out that you didn’t have to pay for transportation or the hotel. Plus, getting to spend time with Jungwoo and Soonyoung away from your college town sounded like a fun experience.

However, you didn’t like the idea of being Chan’s replacement date. You also didn’t want him to feel obligated to go with you just because he had no one else to go with. You also didn’t know what being his date actually entailed because you didn’t want the whole weekend to consist of his frat brothers egging him on to make a move on you.

Like Mingyu said, it was short notice. You were definitely going to feel stressed about making plans for Vegas when it was days away. Not only did you have to pack, but you had to make sure you were all caught up on your schoolwork before you spent your weekend drinking and partying. It didn’t help that you weren’t even done with your assignments due tomorrow.

Mingyu frowned. “You do realize it’s this weekend, right? And you’re probably gonna have to skip your Friday classes to make it.”

“Yeah, I realize that.” You scoffed. “I don’t see why it concerns you, though, considering you and I have both skipped classes before just because we didn’t feel like going. Do you not want me to go or something?”

“It’s completely your decision.”

“If it’s completely my decision, then why are you here? And why are we talking about this?”

He faltered, stammering over words that he couldn’t string together before saying, “Look, it’s your choice whether you go or not. I’m not gonna sit here and tell you I don’t want you to go.”

You paused. A stupid jolt of your heart made you ask, “You don’t want me to go?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You literally just did.”

Mingyu took a moment to replay his own words in his head, his expression morphing from confused to dumbfounded in a matter of seconds. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, “but I didn’t say that to change your mind or anything.”

“Well, if you’re gonna bring it up, then at least give me a reason to stay,” you said with an exasperated breath, “or else why should I pass up a free trip to Vegas?”

He pulled away quicker than it happened. One minute you were frustrated, and the next you felt Mingyu’s soft lips pressed against yours for a brief moment. Then, you were frustrated again because it was over so soon. You were blinking away your shock as Mingyu’s hair tickled your face before pulling back.

He kissed you.

Kim Mingyu kissed you.

“You could just stay here,” he murmured in that velvety voice of his, reaching over to card a hand through your hair, brushing that one spot under your ear that made you shudder, “with me.”

Your eyes followed his movements while the rest of your body was frozen, stunned by the sudden physical contact. Mingyu’s voice grew huskier and his eyes darker, but all you could think about were how big his hands were as his fingers ghosted your collarbone.

His lips tugged up in amusement because from one glance, anyone could tell he had an effect on you. There was no denying the electric current running through your body; it was making it harder and harder for you to resist him.

You wasted no time in pulling him down by his collar and kissed him with earnest longing tucked into the corners of your lips.

He didn’t reciprocate until his eyes glazed over with lust, and then Mingyu was grabbing at your waist and pulling you closer. His touch burned, nearly making you flinch underneath the pads of his fingers. If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, there were times where you imagined his lips on yours like this—a thought that crept into your head whenever you saw girls chatting him up at parties.

In sophomore year, Mingyu had a thing with a girl named Hayoung for a few months. There wasn’t a party that would go by without you seeing Mingyu in a corner with her, whispering little secrets that they would laugh at. That was also the year when you became scarily good at hiding your lingering stares. You eventually mastered the art of people-watching without being caught.

And, deep down, you were probably jealous.

And that was probably why you felt like you were in the clouds when Mingyu’s lips were finally on yours.

The two of you were soon engulfed in a cloud of lust once Mingyu nipped at your bottom lip with his sharp canines and slid his tongue into your mouth. You let slip a sound that was something between a whimper and exhale, but it was quickly muffled by Mingyu’s mouth pressing harder against yours, licking into your mouth eagerly. It was as if your lips were molding together in perfect harmony.

It felt as though time melted away, pooling at your feet until you couldn’t move one bit. You felt Mingyu’s big hands ravage down your body while yours were looped around his neck. Just when he started tugging at your clothes, he pulled back and sucked in a sharp breath to ground himself.

You did the same, letting your chest rise and fall steadily as you stared up at him with hints of lust in your eyes that hadn’t ebbed away just yet.

A few moments of silence passed before Mingyu looked toward the whiteboard that you had moved up against the wall.

“Why was kissing on your list, anyway?” he pressed. “You’ve already done it before, so it’s not like it’s anything new to you.” You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Nothing was making sense in your own head. Mingyu stepped closer to you and let his gaze fall to your lips. “Is there another reason?”

You two were impossibly close. So close that you could smell the cologne wafting off him. Feel the cold metal of his chain against your skin.

You were positive that Mingyu could pick up on the nervous hitch in your breathing. Your stomach knotted tighter and tighter as he towered over you, and your heart bruised against your rib cage with how hard it was beating.

“I guess I just felt like I wanted to kiss you,” you admitted, dropping your voice so low that it was barely audible.

But Mingyu heard it. It was clear by the unmistakable grin that stretched across his face.

Always the gentleman, Mingyu asked, “Does that mean we’re ready for step two?”

“What’s step two?”

“Step two on losing your virginity,” Mingyu announced with a dramatic flourish of his wrist to amplify his theatrical voice, “is to set the mood.”

You were pretty sure you and Mingyu already had a good mood going on until he interrupted to announce that.

“Wait, so you were waiting for…” You cut yourself off, shaking your head in disbelief as your eyes focused on his sheepish grin.

“You have to actually want me so that we can start,” he reasoned. “I can’t, like, make you feel good if you’re not into it.”

“But you knew I was attracted to you. I literally called you a ‘walking wet dream’ in front of all our friends.”

“That’s different. You finding me hot isn’t the same as wanting to kiss me.”

“O-okay,” you stammered, “but how do I know if you feel the same way or not?”

“Well,” Mingyu started in that low, husky voice of his, setting his hands on your hips after a beat of hesitation and pulling you closer, “I could just show you.”

His breath was hot against your ear, and you felt as if it lulled you into some sort of trance as he pulled you toward him. Closer and closer until he was sitting on your couch and pulling you on top of him. Before you could even straddle Mingyu properly, he started planting kisses up the column of your neck. Each one grew more hungry than the last as he nipped and sucked at your tender skin.

This was not happening.

Well, of course this was supposed to happen, but you hadn’t exactly mentally prepared yourself for this very moment. The very moment when you and Mingyu would physically cross the line of friendship.

“That feel good?” he purred against your skin, the vibrations making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The fire in his stare made you feel like putty in his hands.

“Mmhm,” was all you could muster without falling apart, so you just wrapped your arms around him tighter.

You winced when he bit down on a particularly sensitive patch of your flesh. For a while, Mingyu just sucked and nipped at the side of your neck until he was pulling back and you were whining for more. His thumb brushed against the bluish-black mark he created, and you could only imagine how much concealer you were going to need to cover it up.

His lips attached to your neck again. For a moment, you thought he was going to give you another hickey until his pecks traveled up all the way to kiss a tender spot under your ear, and then you two froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to proceed. Mingyu’s lips tugged into a frown as he looked at you with an inquisitive hum.

His gaze fell to your lips. “Should I just—”

He cut you off with a swift, experimental peck to your lips. A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw how flustered you looked after.

“Mingyu,” you said in a small voice, “I thought you said no kissing?”

“I don’t care anymore.”

Once again, his lips chased yours until he successfully captured them in a searing kiss. You immediately melted in his hold, and even though part of you was screaming at the other half to stop and think about what you and your best friend were doing, all you cared about was the way Mingyu pulled you closer by the waist, higher onto his lap.

Yet, although you were unbearably horny, you still flinched when Mingyu’s fingers slid under your shirt and sprawled out against your bare midriff.

He froze instantly and then drew his hands back until they were resting on your thighs. You couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh, curling your hands into fists so that your nails were pressing crescent-shaped indents into your palms.

You shook your head, your breath stuttering in your chest. “I’m sorry. I’m all good. I just need to—”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Mingyu said, reaching over to brush your hair out of your face. His other hand stayed on your thigh and gave you a comforting squeeze. “We’re doing this at your pace, remember? We can stop whenever you want.”

But even though he said the right words to put you at ease, you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated with yourself. You just didn’t understand why you had that mental block keeping you from going further. The mixture of discontent and irritation painted across your face was clear as day. But you didn’t want to feel like an idiot in front of Mingyu, so you uncurled your fists and placed your hands on his chest instead.

“Can we try again tomorrow?” you asked shyly.

A single angry tear slid down your cheek, which Mingyu took notice of and promptly wiped from your face with his thumb.

“Of course.” His eyes were a little wide, like he was momentarily buffering while he was trying to figure out how to comfort you. His eyes darted around the room before they settled on the TV remote you kept neatly on top of a stack of books on the coffee table. “Wanna continue our marathon? I think we’re on Island Princess now.”

After you nodded, Mingyu gently helped you off his lap so that you two could watch the movie together. As he toyed with your remote, you couldn’t help but glance at his arms, watching his biceps flex under his shirt. You thought about how they were just circled around your body, and you soon wished his touch was back on your skin.

A short while into the movie, Mingyu’s hand found itself on top of your knee, and you bit back a small smile as it stayed there for the rest of the night.

Mingyu spent another night on the couch—accidentally, because you two fell asleep in the middle of Barbie and the Island Princess—but, this time, you ended up spending the night right next to him.

Of course, nothing happened other than you tossing and turning a few times due to Mingyu’s snores and prying yourself out of his grip so that you could nestle into your blanket. It was an unfortunate fate that you and Mingyu wound up waking up on opposite sides of the couch.

You kept your eyes screwed shut after you woke up, though, choosing to wallow in your own thoughts for the first ten minutes of your day. You couldn’t get over what happened between you and Mingyu last night, and it was making you dread the thought of facing him once you opened your eyes. You were praying that he wouldn’t regret what went down.

It made you feel better that he didn’t shy away from you during the movie. He even made some light jokes about what you two did, which, at the very least, made you glad that he wasn’t having second thoughts.

(“I don’t know why they didn’t call you Captain Chastity By Choice,” Mingyu blurted out while scooping popcorn into his mouth. “We already knocked out half your list.”)

“Morning,” he grumbled in that husky morning voice that made your stomach feel like you were free-falling off a cliff. His soft, sleepy eyes gave you a once-over before he said, “I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

You had been peeking at him through barely-open eyes, but you gave up your farce and straightened up to face him properly.

“Good morning,” you greeted back. “Sleep well?”

He hummed before leaning in to peck your lips—a gesture that caught you off-guard because you didn’t think he would just start casually kissing you whenever. It felt far too intimate for you to brush it off as hormones acting up. You didn’t have the time to ask Mingyu why he did that before he started complaining.

You thought back to the whiteboard where Mingyu crossed out kissing, leaving behind faint traces of dry ink.

“Sort of,” he replied with a pout. “You stole the blanket! I had to curl up in the corner because I was freezing.”

He was rubbing small circles on your thigh with his thumb as he spoke, and you wondered if he knew the effect he had on you.

“By the way,” he continued, “I have an idea.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Let’s not make sex our goal. We can start slow today—maybe just foreplay until you’re comfortable with me.” He straightened up and crossed his legs so that he could face you. “No one’s taken the time to make you feel comfortable first, right?”

You recalled your list of unsuccessful trysts, starting with good old Mark Lee, who unfortunately became reduced to an inside joke in your friend group. After that, you were only intimate with two other men in your college years.

One was Choi Yeonjun, who you stopped while he was in the middle of stripping down so that you could make your escape. He was hot and all, but your nerves caught up to you by the time his tongue was down your throat. The other was Lee Minho, who was an absolute sweetheart, but you ended up calling an Uber to take you home after you saw his (somewhat intimidating) hard-on.

They were quite embarrassing recollections.

“You’re gonna spend the whole day making me feel comfortable?” you asked, and there was a hopeful gleam in your eyes that made Mingyu feel like he was a supernova among stars.

“If that’s what it takes.”

You had to appreciate Mingyu’s commitment.

After making pancakes for you and showing you Reddit stories on TikTok as you ate (which you also spent nearly an hour dissecting afterward), he got right to pulling you onto his lap and tracing a path up and down your forearms. Of course, he let you keep scrolling through his TikTok because you had gotten so immersed in the Reddit stories. Mingyu offered commentary as you two listened to each one under your new favorite profile of the hour.

“Her boyfriend invited another girl to his team dinner?” Mingyu gasped upon hearing the further details, still ghosting his large hands along your arms.

“Not the asshole,” you confirmed at the end with an adamant nod. “He was totally shutting her down when she told him she was uncomfortable.”

“He’s definitely got feelings for the other girl.”

You nearly sucked in a breath at his words. For whatever reason, the very mention of feelings made your nerves feel like cut wire. It was probably because whatever you and Mingyu had become was toeing the line of situationship.

Later, you ended up laying on top of him as a random Disney movie played on your TV. You didn’t exactly remember the process of you two choosing what to watch, but neither of you paid any attention after Mingyu slipped his hands past the hem of your shirt. The pads of his fingers burned against your skin as he drew circles on your bare waist.

“Higher,” you whispered.

Mingyu hummed inquisitively, peering down at you with an amused smile. He ran his hands up your torso so that his fingers rested right under the underwire of your bra.

“Like that?” he asked, and the teasing inflection in his voice made it clear that he was waiting for you to beg for more. And, oh, he loved the look on your face as you fought down your embarrassment. You shook your head before he cooed, “No?”

“No,” you echoed, “higher.”

Mingyu’s fingers slid up just enough to feel the wiring lining your bra cups. He frowned and moved one hand to the small of your back, snaking his hand up until he was holding onto the clasp.

“Mind if I get this out of the way?”

“Go ahead.”

He unclasped your bra with expert precision, his fingers working effortlessly to undo the hook. Your eyes were practically bugging open as you felt the fabric fall from your chest, wondering where in the world Mingyu learned how to do that. You didn’t have the mind to ask, though, because as soon as your bra straps came loose and fell down your shoulders, Mingyu’s hands cupped your breasts and squeezed experimentally.

This was probably the farthest you had gone in terms of physical touch, and you didn’t feel strange at all. Something about Mingyu’s touch was comforting, like the warmth of the sun enveloping you whole.

He rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, making you wince upon contact. You didn’t realize you were so sensitive already. It was clearly affecting Mingyu, too; you could feel something hard poking your thigh, and from what you gathered, it was impressively large under his sweatpants.

“So,” you started, a little too nervous for your liking, “all this is supposed to help me feel comfortable during sex?”

“Yeah, I worked it all out in my head,” Mingyu said between intervals of circling your nipple with his thumb and kissing your neck. “This is all part of my extremely helpful guide to helping you lose your virginity.”

“I wouldn’t call it extremely helpful, considering you’re a virgin yourself.” You laughed when Mingyu pouted in response. “What? I’m just saying I don’t think you have the credentials.”

“I will in”—he proceeded to check an imaginary watch on his wrist—“two business days.”

Two business days, as in the two days Soonyoung and Jungwoo had left for their Vegas trip. Mingyu was determined for you both to lose your virginities by then, although he reassured you over and over again that you could always speak up if you needed more time.

You had been getting several updates from Soonyoung and Jungwoo throughout the day. Apparently, Chan ended up going stag, but last night you saw two girls draped over him on Jungwoo’s Snapchat story. It made you feel a little less bad about turning down being his date.

“Plus,” Mingyu continued, “I have no problem getting naked right now. You’re the one who’s holding back.”

There was a challenging fire in your eyes. “You have no problem?”

“Nope.”

“Alright.” You put your hands over Mingyu’s and pushed them away from your body. “Then strip. Getting comfortable being naked means we have to actually be naked, right?”

“That means you have to undress, too.”

“Fine.”

He looked amused. “Fine.”

Fuck.

You were nervous.

And surprisingly, it wasn’t the thought of being naked in front of Mingyu that made you nervous, it was seeing your best friend completely nude that had you worried. It was no surprise to anyone that Mingyu was a looker, and you weren’t sure you were ready what he looked like under those clothes.

Mingyu gently moved you off of him and stood up to start stripping off his pants and shirt. His shirt came off in a single, swift motion, revealing his toned, muscular body. Years of work were etched in the grooves of his abdomen, his soft stomach complemented by strong muscle. Mingyu was never the type to show off his body at the gym, but you were starting to wish you were prepared for how gorgeous he was.  

Next, he pushed his sweatpants down until the fabric swamped his ankles. You swallowed hard when you saw the growing bulge in his boxers, but seconds later you were looking at how his hard cock stood right up as soon as his boxers had been discarded somewhere across your living room floor.

He was huge.

“Your turn,” he murmured.

You felt your pulse race.

“That’s not fitting inside me,” you blurted out, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “There’s no way that fits inside me.”

“It’ll fit, Y/N,” he replied softly, reaching forward to take your hands in his. “I’ll do everything I can to make it fit comfortably, and if it doesn’t work out, then we can just keep trying at whatever pace works for you.” You looked skeptical but Mingyu held up his pinky finger. “Promise.”

There was no room for you to doubt him when he was looking at you with those big, hopeful eyes. So, you hooked your pinky finger with his and smiled when he helped you take off your shirt, still keeping your fingers interlocked.

Since you normally slept without a bra, your torso was fully bare once your shirt was off, so Mingyu nearly choked on his spit when he saw you. You moved your free hand to slide your shorts down while his eyes were fixed on the swell of your breasts.

“Can I motorboat your tits?” he asked bluntly.

You snorted immediately, taken aback by his straightforward question. Not only that, but your pinky fingers were still hooked together—a rather intimate gesture followed by a vulgar question.

“Whoa there, Sex Education. Let’s take it down a notch.”

He chuckled before sitting back down on the couch. You thought he would’ve wanted to take care of his hard-on, but Mingyu just held out his arms to you.

“What?” you asked, letting him grab your waist and pull you flush to his chest. Your brows furrowed more when he grabbed the TV remote from your coffee table. “What’re you doing?”

“We have to finish Barbie and the Island Princess, don’t we?”

You gave him a look before it clicked for you. This was all part of Mingyu’s plan to make you feel comfortable—pushing your limits and then settling for something that would put you at ease—so you cozied up to him and let him play the movie.

A demure smile stretched across your face. “Only if we can cuddle.”

“As my lady commands,” he joked, and then you were both laughing.

(And, spoiler: he did more than cuddle.

The way he kissed you made you feel like you were standing on hot coals. His tongue was halfway down your throat and his hands ran up and down your sides. You kissed him until your lungs burned for oxygen and you had to pull back for air. Mingyu peppered love bites all over your body and, by the end of the night, you two were a tangled mess of limbs on the floor with your sweat matting your hair down.

But, most importantly, you two finally got through Barbie and the Island Princess.)

There were a few reasons why Mingyu was roommates with Jeon Wonwoo.

He specifically chose not to room with someone in the friend group for two reasons: the first reason was because Wonwoo’s living habits aligned more with his, and the second reason was to avoid any possibility of ruining the friendship dynamic. Mingyu had his fair share of horror roommate stories, dating back to freshman year when his roommate in the dorms lived like a slob and muttered borderline psychopathic threats in his sleep. You remembered countless nights when Mingyu would knock at your door and ask if he could sleep on the floor.

For Mingyu, Wonwoo was his only saving grace since sophomore year.

You had gone to their room a few times, but you never overstayed your welcome. Although Wonwoo never complained, you felt guilty every time he walked out of his room with AirPods in. It was like he knew to block you out when he heard you coming in.

Today, since Mingyu had been working on code all day, you offered to bring him boba from the farmer’s market that you went to with Ryujin.

You double-checked the label on the side before handing him the drink. “Strawberry matcha.”

“Thanks. I’ve been deprived of boba since fall semester.” He grinned as he tore the plastic wrapping his straw was in. Mingyu popped the straw into the sealing film and took a sip before handing it to you. “Want some?”

“Sure.” You graciously took the cup to sip the delicious fruity blend. Shyly, you added, “It’s also a thank you… for last night. You actually helped a lot.”

You could tell Mingyu was fighting down a smirk; you could practically hear it in his tone. “Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, I actually did feel a lot more comfortable after all that.”

He flashed you a bright grin. “See? It’s the guide.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“I’m serious! It’s effective, isn’t it?” He set his drink down to turn his chair and look up at you properly. “You may think I thought of all that on a whim, but I really put extensive thought into it.”

You had to give him credit for the whole scientific method thing he had going on. You wondered if Mingyu’s consecutive six years of participation in the science fair had prepared him for this very moment.

“Extensive thought,” you echoed. “What? Did you write it all down in a notebook or something?” You laughed it off like it was a joke, but when Mingyu’s expression didn’t budge, you realized that you had hit the nail on the head. “Oh my god, you wrote it down!”

Mingyu huffed. “It’s not even that big of a deal! Writing stuff down helps me organize my thoughts.”

“Well, can I see it?”

“Hell no.”

“Just tell me which notebook you wrote it in.”

“No, ‘cause then you’re gonna look at it later.”

Mingyu thought he was subtle enough to pick up the notebook in front of him and move it away from your reach. Rookie mistake.

Your eyes followed his movements.

“That’s the one, isn’t it?” you asked, pointing at the red notebook that you’ve seen Mingyu jot notes down in before. He always carried it in his school bag, and you were starting to piece together why you hadn’t seen it around lately.

“N-no.”

“You’re such a bad liar, Gyu.” You hardly noticed his hands finding the backs of your thighs and pulling you down to straddle his knees. “Will you ever let me see it?”

“Maybe,” he replied, “or I can just show you what I have planned.”

It was then when you realized that the front of Mingyu’s jeans did look strained. The visible outline of his bulge made you unconsciously clench, which he smirked at once he felt the pulsation against his leg. You weren’t even sure if he was fully hard, but you could definitely feel him through your cotton shorts once you were pulled onto his thighs.

His lips found yours in seconds. Days ago, this was something you were hesitant about doing, but now it came more naturally. Your hands moved in a familiar path from his chest to loop around his neck, and then it was like a switch turned on for your best friend.

You broke from the kiss for air and you both looked down, foreheads touching as Mingyu grabbed your ass with rough hands and helped you grind down on him. Your head clouded over, and all you could think about was moving your hips to meet his so that you could chase the growing ache between your legs.

“That’s right,” he rasped. “That’s a good girl.”

Oh, if he knew the effect his words had on you. You were shamefully ruining the front of his jeans with how aroused you were.

At this point, his hardened length felt massive under you, so you lifted your hips to see just how big his pants had tented up. Mingyu’s grip on you loosened and he lowered his head, embarrassed. Before he could apologize, though, you got off his lap and sank to your knees.

Ever-so-sweetly, you asked, “Can I help?”

You swore you had never seen Mingyu look so blown away in his life.

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course.” You pouted. “You’ve been doing so much for me, and I wanna make you feel good, too.” You balanced your forearms on his knees and grinned up at him, watching his Adam’s apple bob nervously. “So, can I?”

“Please,” he nearly whimpered, fumbling with his zipper to get his jeans and black Calvin Klein boxers down. You helped him out graciously, tugging the fabric down to his ankles and marveling at his cock once it sprung up, curved slightly to your left. Mingyu nearly fell apart when he saw you between his legs, letting out an eager groan. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

“You’re really big,” you mumbled, tracing his v-line accentuated by his taut muscles, then his hip, and then the long vein that ran down his shaft with your thumb.

You weren’t even sure if you would be able to take all of him in your mouth. Plus, this wasn’t exactly your area of expertise. You knew this wasn’t Mingyu’s first time receiving head, so you were slightly intimidated. You were slightly terrified about possibly not being good at sucking dick, but you figured your mouth could do a better job than his right hand.

But you had already come this far.

Mingyu’s hand carded through your hair, pulling it back from your face. The gesture only made your confidence falter, wanting to just melt like putty in his grip. You reached out to wrap your hand around his shaft, surprised how rock-hard it was. That just made it all the more nerve-wracking to take him down your throat.

He seemed to pick up on your hesitation, gently asking, “Want me to talk you through it?”

You looked up at him and nodded, flushing hotly when you saw his sincere eyes gleam with amusement.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed, grabbing your jaw and gently pressing down on your bottom lip with his thumb. You obeyed and parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb into your mouth. “Wider.”

You complied. Mingyu adjusted his hips quickly before encouraging you with a nudge to put your mouth over the head of his cock. You wrapped your lips over his tip, licking off the precum that beaded his slit, and Mingyu hissed sharply.

He let out a sharp breath and let his gaze fly to the ceiling, gripping the arm of his chair. “Fuck, Y/N.”

Mingyu calling out your name so desperately only spurred you to take more of his cock until it hit the roof of your mouth. You were addicted to the sounds of his whimpers, relishing each high-pitched whine from him as you licked the underside of his head. Before, you thought the act of giving head was just extra work for women, but now you were starting to see why it was so addicting. Every moan and cry from Mingyu just made your pride inflate.

You looked up at him through your lashes to see the breathtaking view of his head thrown back and neck veins strained. Mingyu’s hips bucked up slightly, but he fought down his moans to make sure Wonwoo didn’t hear anything.

“Sorry,” he grunted out, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. “Couldn’t help it.”

You pulled off of him for a moment to reply, “I don’t mind if you do it again.”

“Really?” His voice was almost breathless, half-surprised and half-excited.

You nodded, and Mingyu regained his composure a little so that he could sit up and slide his hand into your hair once more. Your lips wrapped around his cock again and sucked gently on his impressive length. His fingers buried themselves into your hair for leverage so that he could hold onto you while he started slowly moving his hips into your mouth.

With the way Mingyu was moving, you could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. He looked at you for confirmation to continue, so you nodded eagerly and sat up higher on your knees to take him in fully.

The first push into your mouth he did was meek—just enough to get the tip of his head down your throat. You tried to relax your throat to take him in easier, blinking back a few stray tears that were brought on by your gag reflex. The second push was a little stronger, getting a little deeper, which roused a moan out of you. Mingyu must have felt the vibration in his cock because he groaned and bucked his hips into your mouth rougher. His thumb found your bottom lip and rubbed it gently, as if he was prying it open wider.

“Fuck, Y/N, your mouth feels so good,” Mingyu breathed out, soft grunts and curses falling from his lips as he went faster.

His free hand wiped away the tears that started streaming down your cheeks. You were past the point of slight discomfort now, and now you were too focused on listening to Mingyu’s pretty moans to think about anything else.

Without any proper warning, Mingyu’s entire body tensed up and he let out a loud groan, shooting his cum down your throat. He threw his head back, and then his whole body relaxed. His grip on your hair tightened and loosened. You squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed down his load before you pulled off of him, watching his chest heave as he tried to control his breathing.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologized profusely. Still winded from his own high, Mingyu was stumbling over his own words. “I didn’t… didn’t think it would happen that fast.” He opened his eyes again and nearly fell apart at the sight of you. “Fuck. Did you really swallow?”

You nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I remember Jungwoo told me before that spitters are quitters, or something like that.”

The tension was thick in the room. Although you intended for your comment to lighten things up, the look in Mingyu’s eyes only darkened.

“Come here.”

You could only squeak in surprise as Mingyu pulled you up to kiss him, his rough hands cupping your cheeks. He didn’t seem to care that he was tasting himself on your tongue, and the act only made you moan against his lips. Seconds stretched into minutes before he pulled back.

“My turn,” he said. “Take off your shorts and get on the bed.”

You were reaching to tug down your shorts before he had even finished talking. After sitting down on the edge of your bed, your fingers flew down to tug at your underwear, but Mingyu got to it before you did. He knelt so that he was between your thighs, looking up at you carefully as he slid the cloth past your ankles and lifted one of your legs higher before propping it over his shoulder.

He pulled you in by the hips, dragging his nose up your middle thigh until it reached the apex of your legs. You looked down at Mingyu, breath hitching as you put your other leg over his free shoulder. His hands slid up your thighs and gripped your hips tightly. His long fingers were splayed out at your abdomen, and you felt your stomach flutter.

“No one’s ever gone down on you, huh?” he asked, and you confirmed his statement with a shake of your head. “Just sit back and let me do all the work, then.”

Your nerves caught up to you for a moment. You started to overthink, wondering if the position you were in was unflattering, or if you even tasted good down there, or if Mingyu was only doing this because he felt obligated.

But then he circled your clit with his tongue and you couldn’t think at all.

You cut yourself off by slapping a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the moan that threatened to slip. Your train of thought had completely derailed when Mingyu licked a long stripe between your folds. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as he flattened his tongue against your cunt to taste you better. A soft groan from him vibrated through your core and up your spine.

Your back arched almost immediately. “Oh—oh my god.”

He started kissing your cunt, and god, it all felt so dirty. You had never felt this way before, and now that you knew that Mingyu’s tongue could make you feel this good, you were starting to see the full appeal of sex. He paused to suck on your clit, and you felt like you were short-circuiting while he ate you out like a man starved.

A pressure started building. You grew anxious and shot right up, tugging on Mingyu’s hair. He was unaware of your panic at first, and then he lifted his head once he felt you tap his shoulder repeatedly. Once his mouth was gone, though, you felt that pressure ebbing away.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “Need me to stop?”

You had to push down all of your shame to admit, “I think I have to use the bathroom.”

To your surprise, Mingyu just laughed. “The bathroom?”

“I’m serious!” You flushed, and the warmth that prickled your skin was different this time.

“I promise you, that’s not what you’re feeling,” he said, rubbing your thigh with his thumb in slow circles. His voice was gentle, like he was trying to soothe your nerves. “Just trust me and let that pressure keep building. Eventually, it’s gonna reach a point where it can’t hold itself in anymore, and then you’re gonna feel really good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, so just relax for me, okay?”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding before sitting back in your previous position where you had your elbows propped up. Mingyu returned to your cunt with an experimental lick, lasting all of two seconds before he resorted back to his rough kissing and sucking.

You held onto the sheets for dear life as Mingyu plunged his hot tongue into your core, reaching a specific spot that made your eyes roll back and your toes curl. He kept your hips pinned to the mattress as he licked into you. His nose brushed against your clit with how close his face was. It was the final push to send you over the edge, and the warmth that had been building up finally unleashed into blinding white pleasure.

You came hard. The force of your orgasm nearly knocked the wind out of you, and your back was lifting off the bed as Mingyu tried to hold your hips down with great effort. The warmth of it coursed through your entire body, causing the surface of your skin to bead with sweat and cling to the sheets you were laying on.

And, as a photographer, Mingyu had taken pictures of countless gorgeous views that he’d come across in his lifetime, but the sight of you falling apart because of him was, by far, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He pulled back to rub your clit in gentle circles while you were being pulled and swept away by the undertow of your orgasm. Mingyu murmured sweet nothings to keep you grounded, but you couldn’t process any of his words as your ears rang with white noise.

You blinked slowly as you came down from your high, whining as soon as Mingyu took his hand away from your sore clit. Before you were going to praise him for how good he was with his mouth, his lips returned to clean up the mess you made. You could only writhe and whimper as Mingyu licked at your soaking cunt.

He pulled back to grin at you, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. You had always thought Mingyu looked attractive, but he was godly like this. Your heart raced just by looking at how his dark hair fell into his face and how his canines showed in his smile.

“Earth to Y/N,” he called, waving a hand in front of your face. When you snapped back into reality, you shot him a questioning look. “I was asking how you’re feeling.”

“Good—great,” you corrected, and then you let out a blissful sigh. “Amazing.”

“Great.” He grinned. “Ready for round two?”

“Round two?”

“Yeah, beautiful. You didn’t think we were done yet, right?”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” Ryujin looked mortified upon first glance of the bruises that littered your neck. “Are you hooking up with a leech?”

You had gone over to Ryujin’s apartment to drop off one of the prints she got from the farmer’s market and left in your car. Naturally, you ended up spending the evening there. Since you were so eager to share what had happened between you and Mingyu (telling Vernon or Minghao simply wasn’t an option right now), you ended up spilling everything that went down.

From the contract to you and Mingyu going down on each other earlier today, Ryujin hung onto every single word of yours with her jaw hanging in an almost comical way. She was shoveling handfuls of Hot Cheetos into her mouth as you gave her a detailed rundown of the story.

“This is so messy,” she gushed. “I love it.”

“It’s not messy!” you defended, and then added, “Okay, it’s a little messy, but we agreed to stop if it ever starts affecting our friendship.”

“So, you think sucking and fucking isn’t going to affect your friendship at all?”

You stayed silent.

“You should know that cross-contamination in the friend group most likely leads to disaster,” Ryujin continued as she popped a Hot Cheeto in her mouth. “It’s all fun and games because you guys think you’ll be able to maintain the friendship, but as soon as someone catches feelings, it’s over.”

A heavy sigh fell from your lips. “To be honest, I’m a little worried.”

“Worried?”

“We had this whole rule against kissing and it lasted, like, a week,” you explained. “I mean, we didn’t even do anything during that week, so I guess it lasted, like, five minutes. The rule was supposed to be there so that we wouldn’t catch feelings or anything, but Mingyu completely ignores it now. I’m not reading too deeply into this, right?”

Ryujin pondered in thought for a moment before redirecting the question back to you. “Do you want it to be deeper than it is?”

You frowned. “Huh?”

“Like, think about it,” Ryujin said. “Remember when you had a little crush on Mingyu during freshman year? Well, sometimes attraction doesn’t go away, so maybe your old feelings are coming back up now that you guys are, like, hooking up. Probably doesn’t help that Mingyu’s considered conventionally attractive.”

Sure, you had your occasional moments of weakness bubble up to the surface. It was something you tried to keep under wraps, but you were sure Mingyu could pick up on it whenever you were being extra touchy after intimacy.

They were never really of concern to you, though. You figured that you and Mingyu would live out the rest of your lives in parallel lines, neither of you crossing over to the other. It was what made your relationship with him rather simple, really. You would never cross over to his side, and he would never cross over to yours.

That was, until the contract was put into place.

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, and Ryujin clearly wasn’t pleased with your answer.

“Y/N, imagine him kissing another girl,” your friend instructed. She motioned for you to close your eyes, so you groaned and did as she said. You cleared your head to make room for whatever visualization she was making you do. “Imagine him kissing that girl from the Kap Sig party last year. The one who was all giggly and talkative when Mingyu was with us, and then she ignored us after he left.”

“Oh.” You made a face, not even wanting to picture that in your head. “Yeah, I don’t like that, but that girl was bitchy. I don’t think that necessarily means I have feelings for Mingyu, though.”

“Now, imagine him kissing the most likable girl you can think of,” she said. “This girl is the perfect match for Mingyu. She’s gorgeous, and she has a shoulder tattoo—the kind he went crazy over in freshman year. Not only that, but she’s smart. She takes good care of him. She brings him and his friends cookies whenever she bakes. She’s the kind of girl that everyone can’t help but adore when they meet her for the first time.”

You tried to really picture it in your head this time.

You imagined Mingyu next to someone who would be in his league, someone who made people want to stop and stare. You imagined how he would be complimented wherever he went for him and his girlfriend being such an attractive couple.

You imagined him making dinner for her and eating together. You imagined him laughing at inside jokes only the two of them knew about. You imagined him watching Barbie movies with her.

And it made your heart twist painfully.

You decided to shrug it off instead, saying, “If he’s happy, I’m happy.”

“Enough with that shit,” Ryujin deadpanned. “I’m here for drama. Give me something to work with, at least.” She shook her head disappointedly, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her. Once you simmered down, she continued, “But, in all seriousness, I think you should really be careful with whatever you and Mingyu have going on. It won’t end pretty if someone catches feelings while the other person doesn’t.”

You pressed your lips together in a grim line. “You’re right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyway, back to the juicy stuff,” Ryujin said, inching closer to you while hugging her knees. “What else did you guys do?”

“We sixty-nined,” you whispered, as if it was some scandalous bit of gossip. “He was the six; I was the nine.”

“Okay, never mind, let’s tone down the juicy.”

You woke up to several Snapchat notifications from Jungwoo. They were all sent at four in the morning, and most of them were just him running through the streets of Las Vegas at night without his shirt on. You were mildly concerned, but you figured they were just having fun.

You tapped through the other snaps Jungwoo sent you. Soonyoung blacked out on a bar counter. A hooker sitting on Chan’s lap. Jeonghan with several hundred dollar bills in his hands. Another snap of Jeonghan with the caption stating that he lost all his money.

Then, it struck you that it was their last day in Vegas.

“We have one more day,” you informed Mingyu over the phone, “and then we have to start seeing each other secretly.”

“That’s kinda hot.”

“No! Not hot! I don’t know about you, but I experience crushing guilt whenever I have to sneak around them, like when I lied about us sleeping together.”

“Technically, we’re already doing that.”

You snorted. “You know what I mean.”

“By the way, not contract-related, but you should come over right now,” he said. “I have some good news to share.”

“Is it about your pink eye scare?”

At around two in the morning, Mingyu texted you a picture of his puffy eye and claimed he was “allergic to pussy.” You sent him back a picture of you flipping him off.

It turned out to be allergies, but Mingyu was completely convinced he had pink eye—all thanks to WebMD. You had to listen to him freaking out for thirty minutes until he calmly informed you that his eye wasn’t puffy anymore.

“Not funny,” he warned. “Okay, kinda funny, but—okay, wait, point is, you should come over.”

You giggled. “Okay, I’ll come over. See you soon.”

You hung up the phone to get ready, feeling oddly excited about going over to Mingyu’s. Ryujin’s words from last night started to get into your head, making you wonder how you truly distinguished your relationship with your best friend. Because why did you feel the need to put on makeup to see him when you had never thought about that in your four years of being friends? And why were you taking extra long to pick out an outfit that was supposed to be casual?

You were deep in thought all the way to his doorstep, only letting it dissolve into the backwaters of your memory once the door opened to Mingyu’s excited face.

“They chose my submission,” was the first thing he said, his eyes shining.

You didn’t even have to ask for clarification. Right away, you knew exactly what he was talking about: the sunset photograph he submitted to the exhibition. It had been all he was raving about for weeks.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes were wide as you looked down at your hands helplessly. “I don’t have anything for us to celebrate with! Hold on, I can run to the store and buy, like, cake or—”

“Slow down.” Mingyu laughed. He grabbed you gently by your forearms and grinned. “We don’t need to celebrate anything. Just promise me you’ll come see my photography.”

“Of course.”

“My submission was for you, so you have to go. Promise?”

If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider. “It was?”

“You’ll see.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, the gallery opening is in a few days. I’ll text you the address and time later.”

“Alright.” You held out your pinky to interlock with his own. “I promise.”

Mingyu wrapped his pinky around yours and grinned before tugging you by the same finger into his apartment. You followed him into his room, eyeing how strong and wide his back was. You were starting to fall back into dangerous imaginations again, wondering if he was going to make a move on you again now that you two only had a day left. Not that you would admit it to your best friend, but you were hoping something would happen.  

“Wonwoo found out Clawdia was getting lonely, so he’s out looking for a pet store that sells hermit crabs,” Mingyu explained. “He was on my ass about it, too, because I said crabs are probably fine being on their own. I mean, they’re called hermit crabs. How was I supposed to know they’re social creatures? Misleading name, if you ask me.”

Although you were (partly) engrossed in his story about Wonwoo’s pet crab, your eyes couldn’t help but linger on the red notebook on Mingyu’s desk.

He picked up on what was distracting you before you could even tear your gaze away, saying, “You’re so nosy.”

You made a face. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” His shoulders slumped as a retired sigh escaped his lips. You could see that you had been wearing him down over the notebook, so he bargained, “Alright, I’ll show you on one condition.” He plopped down on the edge of his bed. “I want something in return.”

You were most definitely taking his words the wrong way because your cheeks were heating up while Mingyu remained completely impassive.

“Something in return?”

“Yeah, I want an answer,” he started, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “When exactly did you start finding me cute? Or, in your words, a ‘walking wet dream,’ right?”

You barked out an unamused laugh. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m telling you.”

“Notebook,” Mingyu reminded.

Suddenly, you were elated about show-and-tell.

“You first,” he insisted. “I assure you, mine is regrettably more embarrassing.”

“The first time I found you cute…” you trailed off, trying to recall the exact moment you started appreciating your best friend’s attractiveness. “I’d say it was in freshman year when we went on the hike together during orientation week. You were all sweaty and wrapped your arm around me when we took a group picture at the top. I was going crazy about it to Ryujin, but then we became good friends, so I just pretended I never felt that way.”

“Freshman year?” he asked, wide-eyed. “You thought I was cute back then? I was a baby!”

“We were eighteen. Don’t make me sound like a creep.”

Mingyu laughed. “I just can’t believe you thought I was cute back then. I didn’t even think you thought about me like that.”

“It was our first week and I was cut loose from my parents.” You shrugged. “Plus, I think every girl in our orientation group wanted to get in your pants.”

“Not Ryujin.”

“No, she was still dating that guy from her high school, remember?”

You scrunched up your nose at the memory; back in the first few months of your freshman year, Ryujin always ditched you and Mingyu at random points during the night because her controlling boyfriend would call to make sure she wasn’t out and about. He was especially suspicious of Mingyu for being an attractive, well-liked man. You found the whole thing ridiculous because her boyfriend was keeping her from having fun and making friends.

To make matters worse, Mingyu ended up finding out Ryujin’s boyfriend was cheating on her after seeing one of his mutual friends post him on her private Snapchat story. It was a picture of them in bed together, and he completely denied it when confronted. You and Ryujin bonded the most during the week she planned to dump her boyfriend, and she ran straight to you once she did. After she cried her tears and used up all of your tissues, you two had your own beach bonfire to burn all of the gifts he got her.

You still remembered how you and Mingyu were back then. Since you two were still new friends, things were still a little shy and awkward. It wasn’t until your third year that you and Mingyu got closer, starting to hang out one-on-one instead of with Ryujin. Since she got busy with internships and her club activities, Ryujin grew a little distant from Mingyu, although they were still on good terms.

“Alright,” you said, impatience sticky like honey on your tongue, “your turn.”

“Ah, right.”

Mingyu walked over to his desk and picked up the notebook. You watched how he rubbed the back of his neck before turning back to you, and his head was turned so that you wouldn’t catch sight of his blush. (You noticed, though.) He flipped past several pages, eyes skimming through math formulas and physics problems before he landed on a page with several scribbles and arrows.

“It’s, like, this page and a few more,” he explained. “Knock yourself out.”

(You decided not to point out that it was more like ten pages.)

You grinned, thrilled, and laid out the notebook in front of you so that you could take everything in. Right away, Kim Mingyu’s Guide to Losing Your Virginity was scrawled at the top. You snorted, grabbing a pencil from his desk to write Unhelpful before Guide. He watched you nervously as your eyes flitted from note to note, your smile growing bigger at certain things he wrote.

A poorly-drawn arrow from how to make y/n feel comfortable to make sure she knows she can take everything at her own pace made you feel something warm and fluttering in your chest. You couldn’t believe Mingyu put this much effort into making you feel good—so much effort that he had entire pages in his notebook dedicated to brainstorming how to pleasure you. You had never been so focused in your life as you read through what he penciled in, and one idea in particular caught your attention.

suggest REALLY sexual things so she feels more comfortable sharing what she wants to do. this will probably make her judge (bully??) you but it’s for good reason

“You’re kidding,” you said, eyes still fixed on the notebook. “You made your list that long just so I wouldn’t feel awkward?”

Even though you asked the question, you were barely listening to him as your heart pounded in your chest and your blood rushed in your ears. You didn’t even have half the mind to see the shy expression painted over Mingyu’s face because you were so locked in on the notebook. His stammering and backtracking became background noise as you were hyper-focused on the words he wrote.

Somehow, this felt bigger than any emotion you had experienced before.

You were consumed, and it scared you. Sweltering in the overwhelming feeling of longing and possibly something more. And you realized that even if you ended up with someone else after all this, a part of you would always belong to Mingyu—the part of you that watched Barbie movies and liked coming home to a dinner for two.

Was it presumptuous for you to assume that Kim Mingyu could possibly harbor romantic feelings toward you? Was it safe to say that maybe you felt the same way?

“—but now that you’ve seen it,” you finally heard him say (after taking a few seconds to register his voice), “can we take out phone sex from the list? I was never really big on that.”

You looked up at him and laughed, a touch distracted because you were still caught in the tide of your own revelations. But you laughed like you were eighteen again, sitting in Mingyu’s dorm room and listening to him recount one of his hilarious stories about him getting lost on campus or being chased by seagulls.

And now you were twenty-one, sitting in Mingyu’s apartment and giggling like you were eighteen again.

Everything melted away, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to kiss Mingyu.

You sat up on your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck. You didn’t think you had ever looked at Mingyu with such unadulterated desire in your eyes.

Craving. Longing. Yearning.

All of it was festering inside you.

“You’re such a dork, Gyu,” you murmured before pressing your lips to his.

This time, when you kissed him, you felt like all of the stars in the sky hung below the clouds just to witness this very moment. Mingyu was stunned for a few moments before he brought his hands up to pull your face closer to his. His nose brushed against your cheek, and you let a giggle slip between soft pecks and deeper kisses.

He pulled back for air, labored breaths falling from his lips before he found you again. This time, the kiss was deeper, rougher. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as Mingyu held you tighter, squeezing your sides so hard that you were arching up against his body.

You had always tried to push down hope before it was born, but the way Mingyu held you made you feel like you were on top of the world. You wanted to believe there was longing in the way his hands ran up and down your body, but you were too scared that you were mistaking his lust for something more.

Even as he pulled away once more to catch his breath, keeping his eyes flitting between your eyes and lips while his forehead was pressed against yours, you so desperately wanted to believe that there was something more behind his affectionate gaze. Something real.

It was when he pressed a chaste kiss to your nose that your hope bloomed in your chest like a valley of flowers kissed by spring.

His hand found its way behind your head, bringing you back to him for more. You felt like you could be there forever, just exchanging wordless affection and holding each other close. Mingyu moved over you so that he was suspended over your body, starting to lick into your mouth once your back hit the bedsheets. You accepted it almost immediately, parting your lips so that your tongue could dance with his.

Then, you were whining against his lips, begging for more. The sloppier and dirtier your kisses got, you were desperate for more skin-to-skin contact. You hooked your finger into one of his belt loops and tugged him closer, which resulted in Mingyu grinding his hips down against yours.

“You want more?” he asked, more raspy than coherent, really, and you could only nod in response as you pulled him closer. Mingyu peppered kisses from your jawline to the column of your neck, leaving behind love bites that you would need a lot of concealer and color corrector for later. “I don’t wanna rush—”

“No, Gyu,” you urged him, tugging him forward by the front of his shirt. “I need you.”

His voice came out in a breath. “Need me?”

“I want you. I want you to be my first because I… I trust you.”

He grinned brightly, canines on full display while his hair was a tousled mess above you. You were pretty sure his smile would be imprinted behind your eyelids forever.

His hand slipped under your shirt and ran up your back, maintaining eye contact with you and looking pleasantly surprised at the absence of your bra.

He pressed a tender kiss to the side of your neck before helping you pull off your shirt. Mingyu’s face was set in a grin before his smile slowly fell, replaced by a look of utter confusion. His brows were pulled together in perplexion as he stared at your tits.

Or, more specifically, the pasties over your nipples.

“Oh, my bad,” you said, unfazed, “I forgot I still had those on.”

“What is it?”

“Seriously? You’ve never seen a nipple cover?” you asked, making your best friend yelp when you peeled the adhesive off your skin. Mingyu shrunk back with a wince before you placed the silicone in his hand. “It doesn’t bite.”

He weighed it in his palm carefully before placing it on his bedside table. “Looks like a chicken breast.” Then, he looked back at your tits. Instead of bedroom eyes, there was genuine concern in his gaze. “It didn’t hurt when you ripped it off, right?”

You stifled a laugh. “No, it didn’t hurt. My boobs are all good.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast for good measure. He squeezed experimentally, but you were certain he was just still in shock over the nipple cover. This would normally be when you shrunk in on yourself, but Mingyu discovering the existence of pasties was far too entertaining for you to shy away.

“Good,” he said before he sighed, a little too dreamy to convince you that this was purely platonic. The lighthearted moment settled back into tension. Barely loud enough for you to hear, Mingyu murmured, “You’re so pretty like this.”

You wondered if your eyes were as big as they felt. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You don’t?” He frowned, as if he was offended that you weren’t seeing what he was. “I think you’re beautiful.”

He said it before, but you thought it was just a pet name because he was in the mood. Now that he was saying it so sincerely, looking at you like you were his entire world, you felt like you had turned into putty in his hold. Your nerves were practically on fire under your skin.

“You’re sure about this, right?” he asked again, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. When you nodded, he readjusted his position so that he was underneath you, moving your hips so that you were sitting on top of him. “Just let me know if you wanna stop.”

“It’s your first time, too,” you said softly, reaching out to trace his jawline. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting.” He smiled before pulling you down for another long kiss.

He kissed you for what seemed like ages, running his hands all over your body and teasing you with kisses to your neck and jawline when he pulled away. While he was getting a condom from his nightstand, you wondered how you could ever get enough of him if this was what sleeping with Kim Mingyu was like.

While you both were a mess of limbs, you managed to remove every article of clothing from each other until your bare bodies were pressed against each other. He tore the silver wrapping of the condom off to slide the lubricated rubber over his cock. Of course you had seen him naked before, but you still couldn’t get over how wonderfully sculpted his body was. He had to have been blessed by a Greek god.

Mingyu held you close to his chest, his eyes raking your body again and again until you felt weak in the knees. When he hovered over you, lining up his cock with your soaked cunt, you had to swallow down your anxiousness.

Questions billowed in your head, floating about until they turned into butterflies and flew straight to your gut. What if he didn’t fit? What if you couldn’t take all of him in? What if it hurt?

But Mingyu had always been so reliable, so comforting. You felt safe in his arms, even if you had been working yourself up over this very act for years. You wanted to be brave for him.

“Are you ready?” he asked once more—just to be safe because he was right there. This was your last chance to back out and he wanted to make sure you truly wanted this.

You nodded with firm self-assurance. “Yeah, I am.”

“Okay, bear with me here,” he replied, the tips of his ears going pink as he tried to laugh off his awkwardness. “I’ve never exactly done this before.”

You laughed. “Me neither. We can figure it out together.”

His lips tugged into a small smile. Mingyu leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he tried pushing his cock into you, guiding it with his entrance. It took him a few tries to work the head in without accidentally slipping out. The first stretch you felt wasn’t painful, but there was mild discomfort that you pushed down.

But then Mingyu couldn’t push into you any further. Your excitement fizzled and your emotions were swinging dangerously into a pit of worries.

Your best friend was a problem-solver, though. He hummed inquisitively before repositioning himself at your entrance.

“Wrap your legs around my hips,” he instructed. “I think that’ll be easier for you.”

You did as he said, tucking your legs around his hips and hooking your ankles together. Your arms hung loosely around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair and twirling them around your fingers. You bucked your hips up once to indicate you were ready, not realizing that it would make Mingyu grunt instead. You could feel your core pulsing from how badly you needed him.

After sucking in a shaky breath, Mingyu started pushing into you once more. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip inside, finally pushing the head of his cock past your folds. You cried out, tightening your grip on Mingyu as you adjusted to his size. You hadn’t even gotten his full cock in you yet.

Mingyu eased his way inside you for what seemed like ever. He didn’t care about how long he was taking or if he was getting impatient; he calmly took the time to work his cock into you. The long vein that ran down his length made you shudder as it brushed against your walls.

“That feel good?” he rasped, looking into your eyes for any signs of pain.

You nodded eagerly. “Y-yes! Please keep going.”

Your body was hot. Feverish. It felt like your pleasure was building up slowly—a dull ache at your core that grew as Mingyu pushed deeper inside you. He lowered his head to kiss your neck at the same time, nipping and sucking at your tender flesh while you moaned and writhed under him.

Finally—finally, finally, finally—Mingyu’s hips pressed flush against yours and you bit down on your lip to keep yourself from screaming out. The pain was sharp, almost dizzying, but after Mingyu held you and kissed you all over until you relaxed, you felt it subside slowly. He sighed happily, bucking into you slightly to feel how deep he was. You buried your face into his chest once you felt the room going a little fuzzy.

Aching, gnawing pain.

Deeper and deeper, but the pain built with each push into you. One certain thrust made you feel as though you hit a peak, but then you felt yourself coming down. You closed your eyes through it, taking deep breaths until the pain had mostly alleviated, a new feeling of pleasure rushing through your body.  

He didn’t say anything for a long while, just letting you take things at your own pace. It was only until you begged him to move that Mingyu complied and started moving his hips.

With an experimental, shallow thrust, you let out a whimper and let one of your legs unhook from the other, letting it lay on the bed instead. Mingyu held your other hip up and started thrusting slowly into you, making sure to keep his pace exact so that he didn’t slip out again. Your pleasure was building up fast, like a spell of vertigo that left your head spinning and your body flushed.

“F-feels so good, Gyu,” you cried out, and then you couldn’t say anything at all once his tongue pried its way into your mouth. His lips slotted against yours perfectly, like both of your lips had been specifically molded to fit each other’s.

He thrusted deeper. Some of his thrusts hit that golden spot inside you that made your world turn blinding white. You were dangerously close to an orgasm with how good he was making you feel.

Mingyu sped up his thrusts, holding your hips and dragging his lips across your skin to leave love bites along your collarbone and shoulders. With the way he shifted your hips to pound in at a better angle had your legs shaking and your eyes rolling back into your head. You were far too sensitive to last long, especially since this was your first time experiencing such pleasure.

Realizing that your muscles had started involuntarily twitching, Mingyu thrusted into you deeper and caged you in his grip. You were teetering on the precipice of a release, holding onto his strong arms for leverage—something to ground yourself while you about to dive into your own ecstasy.

The brute strength in his thrusts led you to falling over the edge, jolts of pleasure coursing through you as you chanted Mingyu’s name over and over again like a prayer. The force of your orgasm nearly knocked the wind out of you, making the world before you go blurry as Mingyu fucked you through your high.

You nearly didn’t register him moaning out, too, his lips framing your name as he came. It felt as if you had short-circuited, laying underneath him helplessly as you rode out your orgasm. The current tugged and swept you away, sending aftershocks of pleasure to your sore cunt.

You blinked twice to reorient yourself, coherence bleeding back into you. It was when Mingyu kissed your forehead that it finally clicked for you.

You finally lost your virginity.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your temple. “That was incredible.”

You nodded, dazed, about to thank him back before you noticed that something was running down your hip. You touched the liquid curiously, wondering if you had just been that overstimulated, but what you found on your fingertips was blood.

You shrieked.

“What happened?” he asked, eyes wide before he saw your hand. He chuckled lightly. “Oh, I see. This is normal after your first time; it’s no big deal.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

Mingyu didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, though; he was smiling delightedly while you were a panicked mess. Blood was gushing out of the very place Mingyu’s cock was buried, and you were humiliated because of your new position as Human Ketchup Bottle.

“Wow,” he cooed sarcastically, rubbing your hips gently, “it’s like you’re my personal little volcano.”

“Oh my god. Please shut the fuck up, Gyu.”

After helping clean you up and a few more sessions of you two gushing over how good your first time felt, you and Mingyu laid in bed together, side-by-side. He had gone on several tangents about how it was nice that you two didn’t feel awkward around each other and that he was almost worried because he heard a lot of horror stories about people’s first time.

Apparently, Vernon’s first time was quite unmemorable because it was a quickie in a hot tub. He had never considered the friction caused by the water being uncomfortable, so it wasn’t one for the books.

To your surprise, when Mingyu headed to the kitchen to get you some water, you felt strangely hollow. As your eyes grew unfocused, the ache from the penetration was more clear, and you started to feel a little empty.

No one ever talked about what happened after sex. No one ever talked about how, shortly following the aftermath of your first time when you were coming down from the dazzling glow of your orgasm, the only thing you could feel was overwhelming vulnerability.

It was like you had been flying up in the clouds, got too close to the sun, and dropped right into a void of sadness. You were bordering on a feeling of emptiness as you stared up at Mingyu’s popcorn ceiling.

Then, the bed dipped next to you. Mingyu came back with a glass of water for you and one of his sweaters—the black Ralph Lauren one his mom got him for his high school graduation. Yeah, he was definitely starting to outgrow it, but he kept it hung up in his closet, anyway. Something about it being sentimental to him.

“You good?” he asked in a gentle voice, setting the glass of water on the nightstand. He slid onto the mattress next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. “You look a little out of it.”

“I’m better now,” was all you said, smiling contently after placing your arm on top of his.

“Did something happen? Did I do something?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Mingyu how you were feeling; you just didn’t know how to. There was nothing he had done to upset you at all, and the night had been incredible. You were still over-the-moon from losing your virginity to your best friend. That was why the wave of sadness that hit you afterward was strange and foreign.

“No, no, it’s just…” You sighed. “I just felt really sad for a few seconds. Like, don’t get me wrong, that was the best feeling ever, but after you went to go get water and stuff, I just got really sad.”

Something flashed across Mingyu’s face. It was the look he always wore when he was correcting someone or explaining some nerdy bit of information he knew. You were anticipating him to go on some tangent about heightened emotions peaking during sex would lead to a crash—something along those lines.

But then, he simmered. His expression was immediately replaced with understanding as he squeezed you tighter. Mingyu must have known that you just wanted to be comforted, not talked to, so he just tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

You felt warmer. Safer.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked.

You sucked in a breath. “Much better.”

Somewhere between your mumbles and whispers of conversation, you and Mingyu ended up drifting asleep in each other’s arms.

It was around twilight when you woke up, dusky purple streaming through the windows and across Mingyu’s peaceful face as he was deep in slumber. You turned your gaze back up, staring at the chipped paint and grooves in the popcorn ceiling, feeling as if you were drowning in your own emotions.

The feeling settled in your chest. It was always there, like a dull ache, but now it was loud. Pounding.

You were in love with Kim Mingyu.

You ran into Ryujin later—much later. It was well after you went back to your apartment and had a meltdown over your newly-recognized feelings for your best friend.

After you talked yourself through your feelings for nearly an hour, you realized that you couldn’t handle this problem head-on. You needed the assistance of your favorite cookies and cream ice cream from Ben and Jerry’s, so you walked to the nearby grocery store in sweatpants and a jacket.

While you were trying to balance three tubs of ice cream in your arms, Ryujin happened to wander into the freezer section, looking mildly concerned at the sight of you. She was pushing a cart full of groceries with her glasses sitting low on her nose.

“Need any help there?” she asked, moving aside her bag of cilantro to make space for your ice cream.

“You were right,” you admitted, and you nearly sounded hysterical with how breathless and frazzled you were. “I’m in love with him.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“That explains the ice cream.”

“Totally overshot the much simpler feeling of just liking someone, or being attracted to someone,” you rambled, allowing her to take the tubs of ice cream from your hands. “It couldn’t even just be a silly little crush, either. I’m just… in love with him.”

“So, what’re you gonna do now?”

You paused. “Would it be reasonable for me to think about it after I see him again?”

“Reasonable? Absolutely not. Stupid? Probably.”

“Well, that’s what college is for, anyway.”

“I support you,” she started, “even if I think you’re a dumb bitch.”

“Thanks, Ryujin, I think.”

The golden rule about being in your twenties was that it was the prime time to be young, dumb, and make stupid decisions.

The stupid decision you settled on for today was inviting Mingyu over when you really should have been taking some time to figure out your feelings for him. You knew very well that this would fuck with your emotions, but you had to give in to your carnal desires. Now that Mingyu had relinquished you of your virgin title, you couldn’t get enough.

You had always wondered what it would be like when you finally lost your virginity. Part of you thought it would be some sort of final form that you would achieve, but it wasn’t exactly all that different. Society overvalued deflowerment, you figured, but there was something that rang true.

Your face glowed a little brighter. Whether that was because of your recent confidence boost or your post-sex elation, you weren’t sure.

But now, you were in a predicament: you wanted more. Naturally, that led you to calling Mingyu and subtly asking if he wanted to come over.

That was how you ended up with your chest pressed against the wall while Mingyu’s body was caging yours. His strong chest was against your sweat-beaded back, and you swore you could feel every muscle of his keeping you from budging. It took him a few valiant efforts to fit his cock inside of you, and you had to reposition yourself several times for him to find a good angle. Once he had slid into you with ease, though, he started thrusting into you with vigor, soft grunts falling from his perfect lips.

(You realized Mingyu wasn’t able to get enough of you, too. He walked in, exchanged a greeting and gave you an update on Wonwoo’s crabs before his rough hands were turning you around and holding you against the wall. While his lips worked on your neck, you managed to sputter out some nonsense about being happy for Wonwoo’s new crab, Clawmander.)

“You’re wet,” he observed, his tone frank and even.

“Excellent observation, Sherlock Holmes.” You managed to gasp out the words before Mingyu’s cock hit that perfect spot inside you that made your vision curl with darkness at the ends.

“Jesus,” he hissed, lips brushing against your left ear. You let out a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a moan while he used his free hand to rub your clit in torturous circles. “I didn’t think you’d get this worked up over me.”

You didn’t answer him. This wasn’t the right time or place for him to hear the true reason. Plus, you could hardly string any words together when he was making you feel so good.

“Don’t cum just yet,” he muttered, and you whined when his cock slid out of you. When you turned around to ask him what his deal was, Mingyu lifted you up effortlessly and carried you to your couch. He had you straddling him while his hands rested on your thighs. “I want you to ride me, beautiful.”

Intimidation settled in. Mingyu could see it in your eyes—the way they refocused and your gaze flitted around hesitantly.

And, because Mingyu was just a tenderhearted, loveable ray of sunshine, he added gently, “If you want to, of course.”

Your eyes went lust-lidded as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You just wanted to make him proud.

“Sit back,” you told him, and you lifted your hips so that you could sink down on his throbbing cock.

Mingyu sucked in a sharp breath, holding your hip with one hand and helping adjust his length with the other. You winced, still not used to the penetration, but the initial pain was less sharp than it was the first couple times. Once you felt the mild discomfort replaced with the hot pleasure you were chasing just minutes before, Mingyu helped you start moving your hips up and down on him. He let go of your hips to throw his head back and run his hands down his face, agonized that he couldn’t fuck into you himself.

You placed one hand on his chest and let your body hover over his as you fucked yourself on his cock. Then, Mingyu decided to pull you flush to his body and buck his hips up on his own. You cried out from feeling him deeper inside you, but then you were moaning into the curve of his neck.

“You feel so good around me,” he whispered into your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

You pulled back, still bouncing on his dick with spurts of clarity returning to you. You were still dazed from how good he felt inside you, but Mingyu’s words were trying to reel you back into proper coherence.

“H-how long?” you stuttered out.

Mingyu smirked up at you, but before the fluttery feeling returned to your chest, you were paralyzed with fear when you heard a loud knock followed by the door handle turning. Your oncoming orgasm came to a halt and dissipated immediately after.

You and Mingyu repelled like magnets; you winced as he practically manhandled you off his lap and scrambled away, so you pushed him off the couch as payback. You only had time to pull your blanket up to cover your bare chest before Soonyoung appeared in the doorway. Mingyu, butt naked, was perfectly facing the front door, and he could only cover his crotch with both hands in time.

Cue Soonyoung screaming, then Mingyu, then you.

For a few seconds, it was a perfect choir of discordant screeching.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” you yelled as Mingyu tried to duck out of the way. He eventually realized there was no immediate escape and just turned around, making Soonyoung sigh heavily and cover his eyes with his sleeve when he saw Mingyu’s ass on full display.

“Well, my… my Connect Fours—”

“You could’ve knocked!”

“You told me I could come over and pick them up!”

“You still could’ve knocked!”

“Don’t blame me; I am the victim here! Normally, you’re in here watching a rerun of Jersey Shore, so I wasn’t exactly thinking, ‘Oh, what if Y/N’s actually getting dicked down by Mingyu right now?’ No! Because no one tells me what’s going on anymore!” Soonyoung argued. “I just came here to get my Connect Fours, not for front row seats to the Magic Mingyu show!”

“I’m sorry.” You sent Mingyu an uneasy look, and then you grew more concerned as you watched him manage to awkwardly wrap most of his body with the white drapes at your windows. You turned back to Soonyoung. “You didn’t see too much, did you?”

“I just saw Mingyu’s asscheeks on full display!”

Mingyu pouted, taking great offense to Soonyoung’s panic. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Okay, I’d rather see your asscheeks, like, on purpose,” he replied, exasperated, “not like this! My eyes feel violated.”

“Soonyoung,” you whispered harshly, and, if looks could kill, you were sure your friend would be six feet under. You waved your hand, motioning for him to leave as the situation was becoming increasingly awkward. “I’ve only got ten of the boxes so far. I’ll text you when the rest come.”

“Right, right,” he mumbled, turning to grab the large package at your entryway. “I’ll just take this and go, then. Let me know when the rest come.”

You sighed. “Yeah, of course.”

“By the way, how big is Mingyu’s dick? He won’t tell us how—”

Mingyu, who looked horrified at this point, raised his voice so high that you nearly burst out laughing from how squeaky it sounded. “Can you leave already?!”

“Before I go,” he said, “I’ll see you guys at Kap Sig for the Beerlympics tomorrow, right?” After he was met by two piercing glares, your friend realized that this was probably not the time nor place for this conversation. “Sorry! Just text me if you decide to show up!”

Soonyoung closed the door behind him loudly to make it known that he had left, and you and Mingyu relaxed once he was finally gone.

“I’m gonna lock your door,” Mingyu started, all huffy and flushed with embarrassment, “and then we can get back to what we were doing.” While he was making sure your lock was secure and walked back, he kept lecturing, “You know, you should really keep your door locked all the time. You never know what’s going to happen.”

You heard him loud and clear, but your mind was still buzzing with questions from what he said before you two were walked in on. All you wanted to know was how long he had been waiting to sleep with you, and you were so curious that you weren’t even feeling humiliated anymore over Soonyoung nearly seeing you naked.

“How long have you been waiting?” you asked. When Mingyu only gave you a confused look, you clarified, “You said it earlier while I was on top of you.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck before his lips stretched into a smile. “How about this: I’ll tell you when you come to see my work in the gallery.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Fine, but I was gonna show up either way.”

“See, that’s what I like about you.” You were too busy blushing to notice that Mingyu had already made his way between your legs and was hovering over you. He peeled the blanket off from your body and put it over the head of your couch. Tapping your knee, he said, “Now, open up, beautiful. Since you were doing so good for me, I’ll make it up to you.”

It was the next day around noon, and the remaining ten boxes of Connect Fours arrived at your door in another giant package. You texted Soonyoung that he could come pick them up (and wait for you to open the door).

You still hadn’t cleared things up from yesterday when he walked in on you and Mingyu, so you weren’t sure how to look him in the eye without feeling absolute shame. Not only that, but the guilt from your lie had been swirling in your chest constantly now that you were hit with the reality that Soonyoung had already perceived your strange friends with benefits relationship with Mingyu.

After you spent practically the entire day with Mingyu yesterday, even driving him to 7-Eleven for munchies at 3 a.m., you ended up getting the green light from him to tell Soonyoung everything. He knew that the guilt was weighing on your chest, and you both concurred that you would feel much better after coming clean.

After all, Soonyoung was one of your best friends, and you didn’t want him to keep deceiving him, no matter how big or insignificant your lie was to him.

When Soonyoung arrived at your door, making sure to knock three times, he greeted you with his usual cheery smile.

“Hey,” he said with an awkward edge to his voice. “Proud of me? I knocked this time.”

You went over this conversation about a million times in your head, thinking of different possible scenarios and outcomes that could happen. For each one, though, there was no eloquent way to bring up your lie without you sounding like you were overcompensating by rambling.

Just rip the bandage off, you told yourself.

It was hard to find the words, though, and your brain couldn’t figure out how to smoothly deliver the news.

Soonyoung looked like he didn’t know what to do, considering you had been staring blankly at him for several seconds without saying anything. “Is this a bad time?” he asked after a pause.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I have something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

You gestured for him to come inside, and Soonyoung took off his shoes before walking into your apartment. You felt yourself flush when he intentionally avoided sitting on your couch and just stood between your hallway and living room.

Soonyoung liked to joke around most of the time, but even he could tell that you were trying to bring up something serious. His arms were folded across his chest, the bewilderment in his eyes coalescing into sympathy. You intended for this to be honest, clear communication, but your breath was getting short and your eyes were darting to your feet before you could even get the words out.

This was deeper than your lie. You could admit that you were a liar, but something inside you withered at the very thought of admitting that there was something going on between you and Mingyu. Something that crossed the line of platonic friendship but kept its distance from romance.

So, before anything else, you blurted out, “I lied about being a virgin. Mingyu and I didn’t have sex.”

Your voice was thick with emotion. For a moment, your friend just stared at you, unblinking.

“Huh?” He sounded utterly confused as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to make things awkward and bring it up, but didn’t I walk in on you and Mingyu yesterday?”

“No, I’m talking about the time I told you I had sex with Mingyu.”

“In the library?”

“Yes.”

“So you guys didn’t have sex?”

“Well, technically we did, but—”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Soonyoung said, pausing before he continued, “so, you’re a virgin?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I was a virgin, but now I’m not. The timeline got fucked.”

“Wait, so, you were a virgin when you told me you weren’t a virgin,” he recounted, to which you nodded in response, and you could tell a few of the pieces in his head fit together when he finished, “and then you lost your virginity.” You nodded again to affirm his statement and your friend let a low-pitched whistle slip. “Wow, that is some crazy lore.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you asked, “Are you mad that I lied to you guys?”

“Mad? No way,” he said. “Like, sure, I don’t really understand why you lied. I guess you had your own reasons. It’s not like it’s a bad thing to be a virgin. There’s no way I’d be mad over something like that, though.”

“I was worried because I thought you hated liars,” you explained, and although you didn’t mention his ex-girlfriend, it seemed as though Soonyoung knew exactly what you were talking about.

“I care about lies that hurt, and, hey, you told me eventually,” he said. “I’m not gonna hold it against you for not telling me about something you weren’t ready to share.”

He worried at his lower lip before adding, “You didn’t lose it to Mingyu because of what I said, right?”

You felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, and your breathing steadied. You didn’t even realize how fast your heart was beating until you could feel every muscle in your body relax.

“No, of course not.” You finally cracked a smile. “To be honest, when you guys grilled us about it in the library, it did set things in motion. I don’t regret any of it, though—except lying to you guys about it. I’ve been wanting it to happen for a while now.”

“Good. You should probably tell the others when you’re ready, too.” He gave you a warm smile before amusement seeped back into his eyes. He turned to pick up the large package of Connect Fours and said, “Congrats to you and Mingyu, by the way. I always knew you two would get together.”

You nearly got whiplash from how fast you turned your neck. “Soonyoung—what?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s been crazy for you ever since freshman year. I figured he would eventually grow a pair and ask you out,” he elaborated. Once Soonyoung hoisted the box up and turned around to look at you, he froze when he saw the dumbfounded look on your face. “Oh, shit. You’re not dating him, are you?”

“No, Soonyoung. No, I’m not.”

“Oh… my bad.”

Around twenty minutes after Soonyoung’s slip-up, you decided you would go with him to Kappa Sigma’s “Beerlympics,” which you hadn’t exactly been banking on showing up to. When you were informed about it yesterday, you had to research online to make sure that no, Soonyoung wasn’t speaking some alien language.

You never really understood half the things Soonyoung and Jungwoo talked about in relation to their fraternity. It usually went in one ear and out the other. It was always something about chapter meetings, pledges, and the sort of nonsense that made you wonder if you two were even living in the same world.

Before you decided to go, Soonyoung had to guide you to the couch to sit down and process your thoughts, which you figured was a great feat for him considering he was still traumatized from walking in on you and Mingyu.

Even after you stared blankly at the wall, though, you still couldn’t fathom the thought of Kim Mingyu liking you all these years. And, you didn’t outwardly admit it to Soonyoung, but the thought of your best friend liking you back made you inexplicably happy.

After you quickly changed into more appropriate clothing, Soonyoung and you walked over to frat row, passing by several large fraternity houses before arriving at the male-infested Beerlympics event. Your friend was still carrying his box of Connect Fours, which kept rattling as you two walked.

Yesterday, you were considering not going, mostly because you committed to going to Mingyu’s exhibition today, too. He had texted you the details, informing you that it would be early in the evening, so you weren’t going to spend longer than a few hours at Kappa Sigma.

Plus, now that Soonyoung had accidentally revealed the feelings Mingyu was harboring for you, confessing to him was weighing heavy on your mind. You desperately needed to tell your friends about your feelings before you ended up self-combusting.

In a matter of minutes, you were sitting between Vernon and Jungwoo on the couch, watching Minghao and Soonyoung shotgun a Coors Light. The box of Connect Fours was currently being used as a drink stand.

“You just came back from Vegas,” you told them, “and you’re already hosting a Beerlympics?”

“What did you expect us to do? We only drank hard alcohol in Vegas,” Jungwoo explained. “It’s only right that we come back and drink beer.”

You rolled your eyes, incredulous. “You guys can’t be serious.”

“By the way,” Vernon started, “is Mingyu coming? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“You went to the gym with him yesterday,” Minghao pointed out.

“And that was in the past.”

Soonyoung cleared his throat once he was done with his beer. “Speaking of Mingyu… Y/N has something to tell you guys.”

“Right.” You cleared your throat before announcing, “I’ve gathered you all here today because someone said something he wasn’t supposed to.”

“And that someone was me,” Soonyoung mumbled, dejected.

“Wait,” Jungwoo interrupted, “we need context.”

Although you talked to Minghao before about the pact between you and Mingyu, you still hadn’t explained the whole ordeal to Vernon, Jungwoo, and Soonyoung. As you rambled on about how Mingyu proposed the idea and you two started becoming friends with benefits, Soonyoung’s face fell more and more as he realized he had royally fucked up. Vernon, on the other hand, despite having been kept in the dark this entire time, kept a placid expression on his face while the other three boys lost their shit.

You went on to explain the whiteboard, the notebook, how scared you were about ruining your friendship with Mingyu, and how Soonyoung walked in on you two and accidentally revealed that Mingyu had been crushing on you for a while.

“There’s no way you actually wrote all that down on a whiteboard,” Soonyoung said with an incredulous laugh. When Minghao pointed out that your whiteboard (that you still hadn’t returned to the community room) was literally in the living room, your friend cried, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that!”

“Yeah, it was front and center when you walked in on Mingyu and I,” you said.

“To be fair, Mingyu’s ass was very distracting.”

You folded your arms across your chest, staring the four boys down. “Okay, well, that’s my side of what happened. It’s your turn to spill what you know.”

They all looked at each other warily before Vernon decided to break it down for you. He explained how Mingyu had been crushing on you ever since you two were in the same orientation group, and your breath caught in your throat because that was exactly when you also found him cute. Apparently, since you had become good friends with Soonyoung and Minghao shortly after (and later, their respective roommates: Jungwoo and Vernon), Mingyu didn’t try to read into your closeness too much.

All of the pieces were connecting in your head—all of the little moments and things he said that you brushed off as a coincidence. Every realization was like a firefly in your head, flickering and blinking under dim light until it shone bright and clear in total darkness.

Every time he called you beautiful. Every time he kissed you. Every time he looked at you like you were all he wanted.

Mingyu saying he wanted his first time to be with someone special wasn’t just a previous notion of his that he discarded once you two made the pact. You were the someone special he wanted to be with.

And god, if only he knew how badly you wanted to be with him right now.

“Alright, Y/N, do not tell Mingyu about any of this,” Soonyoung warned. “I’ve survived Jungwoo’s stupid ‘ecstasy water’—fuck you for that health violation of a drink, by the way—and I’m not letting Kim Mingyu be the reason why I end up six feet under.”

“I’m gonna have to tell him I found out from you, Soonyoung,” you argued. “There would literally be no other way for me to find out if it wasn’t from one of you guys.”

Vernon was quiet before he suggested, “What if we throw Jungwoo under the bus?”

“Yo, that’s hella smart,” Soonyoung praised before giving Vernon a high-five.

“I would prefer not to be thrown under the bus, thank you,” Jungwoo deadpanned.

“We are not throwing Jungwoo under the bus,” you agreed. “Besides, there’s been something that I’ve been thinking about for a while, too.” You paused to pour a shot for yourself, downing the contents of your red solo cup in one go. Wringing your hands together, you confessed, “I think I like Mingyu.”

“Oh, wow.” Jungwoo nearly choked over his words and held out his cup to you. “Pour me a shot, too. I’m gonna need it.”

Minghao decided to take over, asking, “As a person?”

“As a… man.”

“Well, men are people—sometimes.”

You groaned, unlacing your fingers to drop your face into your hands. You couldn’t believe you were saying this at the Kappa Sigma house, of all places.

“I—well, yeah, obviously. I just… okay, the point is, I sort of realized I really like him, and I was scared because I don’t know how this is gonna affect the group dynamic.” You felt your face growing hot as you talked about it, but you continued, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but what you guys just told me changes things, I think. I feel like I really need to tell him how I feel, if that’s okay with you guys.”

(You took another shot.)

You had never said the words out loud—not even to yourself. Your emotions felt more real now that they were out in the open for your friends to hear. Amidst all the booming music and drunken shouts in the house, your friends were silent.

“Why’re you asking us for permission?” Jungwoo finally spoke up. “We aren’t gonna be dicks and say you shouldn’t ask him out just so we can keep our friend group as it is. Just ask him out.”

(Another shot.)

“What he said,” Vernon agreed. “If Mingyu’s crush on you didn’t affect our friendship for four years and your crush on him didn’t make things weird, then I don’t see why you have to hide how you feel.”

(You gulped down your fourth shot.)

By the time Minghao started harping on about how you should be following your heart, you were starting to feel the alcohol settle. It ran through your veins, thick like molasses, until you felt sluggish. Then, spurred by your determination to confess your feelings, you rose up to your feet.

“I’m gonna do it,” you breathed out.

“When?” Soonyoung asked.

“Now.” You stopped to gather your belongings—your phone from the Connect Four box and your bag from the couch. “I’m gonna go see him.”

“Let’s call you an Uber,” Jungwoo said, and when he realized he was probably the most sober out of his friends, he dragged himself off the couch. Apparently, he was drinking in moderation after nearly getting alcohol poisoning in Vegas and dealing with a nasty hangover. “Okay, I’ll call you an Uber.”

Jungwoo walked you outside, waiting with you on the sidewalk until your Uber arrived. He recounted some of the highlights of his weekend in Vegas to you, and you listened intently even though you could feel your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You weren’t sure if it was because you were intoxicated or your nerves over potentially confessing your feelings to Mingyu.

When your Uber pulled into the driveway—a white SUV that was large enough for you to assume that Jungwoo accidentally booked an Uber XL.

As you were getting into the passenger’s seat, Jungwoo held the door open long enough to tell you, “Hey, I’ll let you in on a little secret: Mingyu never really cared for watching movies until he met you.”

While your Uber driver took you to your destination in silence, you were certain your heart was glowing brighter than any sunset out there.

The gallery was empty when you arrived—eerily quiet. A long, white table sat at the foyer where the front desk was. Plates of what you suspected had cookies on them were left littered with crumbs. The gallery assistant seated at the front desk must have been a student working part-time because her nose was buried in a textbook, hardly noticing you walking inside the building.

Your buzz was wearing off by now and your stomach had dropped in a deep pit when you realized that you were late. You swore you had timed it right. Mingyu told you to be there at 5 p.m., and yes, you were twenty minutes late, but you didn’t expect the whole venue to be cleared out.

Maybe everyone else was just late. That had to be it, right?

When you tried to look up Mingyu’s location on Find My Friends, he was miles away and looked as if he was on a trail.

You decided to call him, wondering why he hadn’t texted you yet. You were too disoriented in the car to give him a heads up, but he would normally text you, anyway.

After three rings, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Mingyu!” you cried in a hushed voice. “Am I late? Did you leave already? I can’t see anyone here.”

“Where?” he asked. “Uh, if you’re talking about Beerlympics, I didn’t go because I had a project due tonight.”

“No, the gallery. You said it started at five, right?”

Mingyu was silent for what seemed like forever before he stifled a laugh. “You mean the gallery opening tomorrow night?”

You had never sobered up so quickly.

While Mingyu was laughing at you on the other end of the line, you were pulling up your text messages to confirm that he had given you the wrong details. Instead, you were met with the horrifying realization that you just read the invite wrong.

“I mean, you can still see my work while you’re there,” he continued. “I think they’ve already switched out their old art.”

You groaned. “I’m so stupid.”

You roamed around the gallery as Mingyu told you about his day, looking at all of the art pieces that were submitted. After you took some pictures of various paintings and sculptures that were on display, your eyes fell upon a sunset photograph hung up on the wall.

The very photograph you came here for.

You had seen gorgeous sunsets before, but you had never seen pictures that did them any justice. What Mingyu had captured, though, was absolutely breathtaking.

Over the foliage, the sky was a wonderful blend of oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples. The great ball of light dipped below the horizon, peeking out just enough to see its wonderful color. The rays of sunlight reached out past the frame, illuminating the treetops and the current of water that ran to the side.

To the right, you saw Mingyu’s placard fixed to the wall, hanging proud next to its photograph.

Kim Mingyu You’re My Sunset 2023 The sun’s last kiss to the sky. If there’s a world where I can watch sunsets forever, I hope she’s there with me.

“—so I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get a C on the quiz because he made us write out our code on paper. My handwriting is dogshit, so I hope he has a fun time reading mine.” He trailed off when he realized you went silent on the other end. “Y/N?”

“Where are you?” you asked, a touch distracted as your eyes drank in the words etched onto the placard.

“Huh? I’m on that hiking trail near the freshman dorms,” he said. “I was gonna go watch the sunset, if you wanted to come see it with me.”

And because you were so helplessly in love with him, it was easier than breathing to say, “I’d love to watch the sunset with you.”

It took you one more Uber and forty minutes to find Mingyu where he was waiting for you. You told him not to walk all the way back down to meet you, so you made your journey to the top on your own. You were definitely not dressed for a hike, but sunset was coming soon and you didn’t have time to stop at your apartment to change.

You waved once you saw him, biting back your smile because you didn’t want to look overly-excited to see him. He had probably been outside for a while, judging by the sheen of sweat that made his biceps glisten under the setting sun.

“You made it just in time,” he said. “Sunset’s in a few.”

Your chest heaved as you recovered from your hike up. It had been ages since you worked out properly, so part of you was glad that you didn’t let Mingyu go back down and fetch you. You surely would have had to make him stop several times for you to take a breather.

He was sitting on a large, flat rock—so smooth that it was probably the perfect spot on the entire mountain to watch a sunset. Mingyu scooted over so that you had room and you sat down right next to him, knees knocking and shoulders brushing against his.

You had never seen anything as formidably beautiful as the view before you. The sun had started to dip below the horizon, glowing a spectacular orange. Muted colors of blue and gray vanished like a skip, blurring into colors more intense, more breathtaking. Oranges and yellows blend into the canvas of the sky, soon blending with pink and red hues that made the clouds look like the seventh heaven.

It felt like the sun was setting, calling the stars out just for you two. It cast its rays onto the lake below, leaving the surface glittering with millions of golden sparkles.

This was the sight that reminded Mingyu of you.

For a while, you two just watched the sky wordlessly until you started, “I saw your—”

“What if we watched the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe for our next marathon?” he asked at the same time, but his words were stronger—more purposeful—so you answered him instead.

“We still haven’t finished our Barbie marathon,” you said. “We’re still on Barbie and the Diamond Castle.”

“But… when we finish.”

You hummed. “How long does it take to finish all of the Marvel movies?”

You tried to mentally note down all of the titles you knew with the limited knowledge you had of the Marvel cinematography. You were pretty sure you watched a good amount of them—the big ones that broke records in theaters—but you never tried watching them in order.

“Seventy hours and forty-six minutes. I checked.”

“We’d be marathoning forever.”

He smiled. “It wouldn't be the end of the world if we marathoned forever.”

You laughed, loud and clear. It was almost ridiculous to think of you and Mingyu in your fifties, sitting on a couch and watching yet another movie marathon in the measly hours of free time you had between work and other responsibilities.

And then it hit you. Your heart jumped to your throat.

You and Mingyu, doing the same things you did now in your fifties. You and Mingyu, sitting on a couch and watching another marathon together. You and Mingyu, swamped with work and responsibilities but still spending time with each other amidst all that.

You and Mingyu.

Your lungs were trees and there was a forest fire. It tore its way through each leaf, each branch, and it felt like that fire would burn forever. Burn until the sky had no sun and the world was in ruins. You couldn’t think straight as your heart raced and your breath got caught in your throat.

“Forever?” you asked in a small voice.

Mingyu’s eyes softened, more sincere and longing in them. At this point, he had gone pink beneath his golden skin. He moved his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, but all you could focus on was how the last rays of the evening shone on your best friend’s face. He was painted with sunset.

“Yeah, forever,” he confirmed. “I guess this is my way of confessing, so… Y/N, my forever marathoner, my sunset, will you go out with me?”

You were choked up at what felt like the worst possible time to be malfunctioning. “Sunset—”

“You saw it, right? The dedication next to my sunset picture?” he asked. “You finally realized that I’ve been in love with you for the past four years?”

He said the words so casually, as if he was telling you the color of the sky. But you could feel the weight settle in—the years of longing and pining.

This time, instead of just craning your neck, you turned your whole body to face him. The way he looked at you sent butterflies to your stomach, but your eyebrows pulled into a frown. You were sure that you couldn’t have possibly let it slip to him that Soonyoung told you everything.

“How did you… how did you know?”

He grinned, leaning back a little on his hands. “Before you got here, Soonyoung drunk FaceTimed me and started apologizing for exposing my four-year crush on you. He also apologized for assuming that I had the balls to ask you out.”

You scoffed a little, recalling how Soonyoung was practically begging you not to tell Mingyu yourself. It only made sense that he would be the one to fess up after all that alcohol got into his system. You made a mental note to call him out on this very moment the next time you saw him.

“Things get messy when someone likes someone else in the friend group, you know?” he continued, looking over the cliffside for a moment before turning back to you. “But, with you, I don’t think I mind things getting a little messy.”

“Do you remember when Jungwoo told you I found you cute, and I told him I really said something else?” he went on, turning his head away this time. He sounded more shy when he admitted, “Beautiful. I called you beautiful.”

“I just…” You faltered, trying to work up the courage to look him in the eye. When you did, the melted amber swirling in his eyes nearly made you stammer. “I didn’t expect any of this.”

Mingyu must have mistook your nerves for hesitation because he immediately said, “It’s all good, Y/N. I just wanted to come clean to you. You don’t have to answer—”

“No, Mingyu,” you cut him off, breathing out the words with an edge of desperation, “I didn’t expect this because I came here to ask you out.”

It was his turn to be shell-shocked. Mingyu’s pink lips parted in surprise, mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something, but he clearly hadn’t even thought of this outcome. You watched his Adam’s apple bob nervously.

He looked at your lips, then your eyes, then your lips again. He lifted his hand to touch your cheek, fingers spreading so that he could cradle your jaw. He looked transfixed, looking at you like you were far more captivating than the sunset that was playing out for you two. His eyes fluttered shut once he closed the distance and his lips met yours.

If you were his sunset, Mingyu was your sunrise. Every time he kissed or touched you, you felt warmth spread through your whole body, making you beam brighter than any star in the galaxy.

He pulled back, but he was still so close that his nose was touching yours, both of your ragged, uneven breaths mixing in the tight space between you two. He held the back of your head and pressed your foreheads together, a gesture of his that always made you feel like you were soaring.

Your voice failed you as Mingyu’s calloused hands bunched up the fabric of your shirt to glide down your back, tracing the bumps down your spine and gripping tighter once he reached your hips. It was like he was charting a map of your body, taking note of every little curve and dip he came across.

“W-we’re outside,” you stuttered out.

“No one’s gonna catch us. I wanna show you how I feel every time I look at you,” he murmured in a low voice that only you could hear. “Lay down for me, Y/N. I want you to watch the last of the sunset while I show you how much I love you.”

You didn’t reply, mostly because you wanted to let your actions speak for you. You pulled him in for a short, chaste kiss before you scooted up on the rock and laid down for him. The solid surface was uncomfortable at first, but then Mingyu had you get up for a moment so that he could spread his jacket out for you. You laid back down and looked up, gasping when you realized you had a perfect view of the setting sun.

Mingyu tugged down your shorts and underwear, making sure to carefully fold them and set them aside instead of just discarding them somewhere. Now that you could feel the coolness against your bare skin, you were grateful that his jacket was under you. He pulled his sweatpants down past his hips and hovered over you, eyes flickering up to meet yours. They were hazy, swimming with lust, but you could see his sincere adoration, too. He refused to kiss you because he didn’t want to obstruct your view of the sunset.

“Are you ready?” he asked, lifting his middle and ring finger to his lips and licking them for extra lubrication.

You sucked in a sharp breath at that. “Please—yes.”

Slowly, Mingyu pushed his fingers inside of you, watching you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut with an amused half-smile. His thumb worked slow circles on your clit while his fingers were nestled in you.

“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he instructed. “You’re gonna miss the sunset.”

Finding a steady pace was no problem for Mingyu at all. He watched you squirm and moan underneath him as his fingers slid in and out of your cunt. His knuckles were glistening with your arousal, and Mingyu stared at where they disappeared inside you with unfocused eyes. He curled his fingers inside you ever-so-slightly, passing over your g-spot, and you arched your back at the feeling.  

His name stuttered past your lips, coming out so raw and passionate that all the blood rushed to Mingyu’s cock. His boxers were tented, and you were once again intimidated by how huge he was. His bulge brushed against your thigh as he plunged his fingers into you.

You felt limp under his touch, but just when you felt prickles of heat under your skin, Mingyu’s fingers slid out of you. You nearly cried out over his false promise of a release as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

“The sky,” he whispered. Like it was instinct, he licked his fingers clean without batting an eye. An embarrassed rush of heat sank into your cheeks. “I need to be inside you for the rest of the sunset. Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely. “That’s okay. You can just pull out.” You looked straight into his eyes and said, “I trust you, Gyu.”

“Go raw? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we can just get Plan B tomorrow, if anything.”

Kim Mingyu looked like he could die a happy man then and there.

He tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring up and slap the underside of his belly. It was already huge and flushed with beads of precum collecting at his slit. Mingyu shuddered almost immediately when the cool air hit him.

He spread your legs with his large hands, and you swallowed thickly before Mingyu started rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He made sure to smear the arousal between your legs to your clit. The last rays of the sun shone on his face, and you could see the glint of hunger in his eyes.

At this point, you were nearly begging for him, so Mingyu started pushing into you carefully. His brows were pinched and his bottom lip was sucked into his teeth while he worked his way into you, his eyes glinting with utter focus.

It was so different without the condom. Intense. Hot. The drag of his cock inside you made you falter, absolutely loving the new friction and texture you were feeling.

You swallowed down your gasp with a shuddering breath. Your tight expression slowly relaxed as Mingyu’s cock worked its way inside you. Every time you wanted to close your eyes, you snapped them back open to catch a glimpse of the blurry hues above.

“That’s it,” he cooed, the praise only turning you on more. “You feel so good.”

He started circling your clit with his thumb again, getting your walls to relax so that you immediately took more of him in. Mingyu’s cock twitched inside of you, causing that one muscle in your leg to twitch. You weren’t sure how long you were going to be able to last if he kept teasing you like this.

When his head dipped into your opening, you sucked in a breath, but he did not enter just yet. Your hips bucked up against his, and Mingyu held them down so that he could position himself without slipping out of you. A sound that was between a deep chuckle and a grunt rumbled in his chest at your eagerness.

With little preamble, Mingyu started pushing deeper into you, letting himself sink while his breathing grew short. His cock brushed sensitive spots inside you that left your toes curling and your vision going blotchy. You watched the sky grow darker and darker, vibrant orange colors blending into deep reds.

A debauched moan bubbled past your lips once Mingyu started fucking into you slowly. Each roll of his hips brought a blinding wave of pleasure that left behind a sheen of sweat coating your body. The initial sting of penetration dissolved quickly into pleasure.

You dragged your nails down his well-defined back muscles, sighing blissfully with each thrust of Mingyu’s hips. His back muscles flexed underneath your hand as his cock worked in and out of you. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck and moaned along with you, and the look in his eyes told you that all he wanted to do was kiss you, but he was adamant on making you see the sun.

“Oh my god!” you cried out once Mingyu used his free hand to lift your leg over his hip, getting a better angle so that he could plunge into you. Blinking away tears, you were nearly sobbing when you said, “I… I didn’t say it back, Gyu. I love you, too. God, I’ve loved you back for so long, too.”

All the lust in Mingyu’s gaze had melted away, being replaced by the most loving gaze you had seen in his shining eyes. He leaned down to kiss you slow—a completely different pace from how he had been fucking you. When he pulled away, he kept his lips at the shell of your ear, whispering sweet nothings.

With his hips snapping into you at a near-animalistic pace, you were quickly reaching your peak. Mingyu seemed to take notice and rubbed your clit faster to catch you up to speed. Heat spread under your skin, making each nerve ending feel like it was on fire.

“There,” he gasped out after he turned his gaze up for a moment. “Do you see it? The sun kissing the sky?”

He had been waiting so long for you, pining so hard, that when your orgasm ripped through you, Mingyu came almost immediately after. He groaned before pulling out of you, his strained expression melting quickly into bliss once his release came. It seemed as though Mingyu didn’t want to get you dirty, so he shot his load to the side where he could hide it easily.

You looked up, and you finally saw how devastatingly beautiful the sunset was with its palette of colors exploding across the sky.

Reds. Oranges. Dying glimpses of yellows. You felt like you were experiencing a sensory overload with how the colors mixed and blended together while Mingyu was helping you ride out your orgasm.

This was it. This was the seventh heaven.

While you were still twitching from your intense orgasm, Mingyu sat up so that he could fix his pants, his chest rising and falling in tune with yours. You were still sprawled out on the rock, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon. The previously colorful sky had been drowned out by black and blue, but it was still bright enough to make out your surroundings.

“I never answered you properly,” you said after you caught your breath. The clouds rolled out of view, revealing the illuminated moon that shone down on you two. You sat up, meeting Mingyu’s curious gaze and declaring, “I’d love to go out with you.”

You had never really been able to fully understand what love was. It had been a foreign concept to you for years. When Mingyu smiled brightly and kissed you again, though, it had never been so clear to you.

You honestly felt bad for the librarian.

As soon as you and Mingyu walked into the library hand-in-hand, you heard a chorus of groans from your friend group’s table. They were all jeering at you like they hadn’t been the ones convincing you to ask out Mingyu a few days ago. This time, Ryujin was also mocking you with them.

(You had asked her to show up so that you could give her the Smiski figurine she had delivered to your house. You had no idea why your friends kept ordering things and using your address for delivery.)

Soonyoung cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, “Get a room!”

“We’re just holding hands!” Mingyu exclaimed. “You’re acting like we’re in the Victorian ages.” He waved his hand to get Soonyoung to move. “Give me some room so we can work on our project together.”

You giggled and took your seat next to Mingyu, your pinkies interlocked under the table. You were sure the honeymoon phase would wear off in a few months, but for now, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Of course, you kept most of your PDA behind closed doors so that your friends would taunt you, but you were happy with that.

Speaking of your friends, they were all over-the-moon when you and Mingyu announced that you were dating. Ryujin had screamed into your ear so loudly that you were pretty sure you experienced temporary hearing loss.

You and Mingyu also finally returned the whiteboard to the community room after erasing all of the sexual terminology on it. You two were surprised that you actually managed to knock out everything on both lists that hadn’t been canceled. Apparently, Jeonghan had been distressed over the whiteboard’s disappearance and filed a complaint to get a new one. He got his happy ending, too, when you and Mingyu rolled it back into the room.

“Y/N, Mingyu,” Jungwoo called. “Body counts—go!”

Mingyu blinked. “One?” he deadpanned. “Why would it be higher than that, dude?”

It was your turn now, with all eyes on you. Before, you wondered why you even felt the need to lie about something like that. It had all seemed like such a silly concern back then, but now you realized that there had never been a rush to lose your v-card.

Now, you could confidently say, “One.”

Because Kim Mingyu’s Guide To Losing Your Virginity really was effective.

mingyu: hey mingyu: what happens when we finish the marvel marathon

y/n: wdym

mingyu: like what do we do with our lives mingyu: 70 hours and 46 minutes mingyu: it has to end eventually mingyu: we’ve been marathoning all this time with no foreseeable end until now

y/n: what did we do before the marvel marathon

mingyu: the barbie marathon

y/n: and what did we do before that

mingyu: the disney princesses marathon

y/n: and before that

mingyu: the saw marathon

y/n: exactly y/n: we will keep marathoning for as long as marathons exist

mingyu: is that your way of saying we’re forever?

y/n: yes it is

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ if you made it all the way to the end, MUAH! thank you so much for reading !! and thank you to everyone who asked to be on the tag list, i was so floored by the love you guys showed the teaser ♡ first and foremost, i have to shoutout fia for being the reason i changed my magic mike joke to magic mingyu. i would also like to shoutout mingyu for existing because his existence is the reason why this came into fruition. also shoutout to you for reading this because wow!!! you sat through all those words??? i am so honored, really :’) i hope you enjoyed this, thank you for being on this rollercoaster with me, and i hope you look forward to my future works

TAG LIST ▸ @matchahyuck @playboysh-t @jintaema @hoonflrt @desi-brownie @dreaming-on-clouds-blog @xiaoting999 @staygenezy @jwlmnbt @hipsdofangirl @baeseungcheolie @everywonuu @multiplums @shinetogether17 @jeonsrv @chickenstripsonapole @nunchuckd @florcix6​ @stariszn @kissesfrmwonwoo @yikesmary @neejaatjeh @chansdimplesmile @mewiththemess @cookiechristie @mi-seonha @mingy0u @shgyuie @alvanie @watermelon-sugar-things @prodsh00ky​ @itskkung​ @yelsuki​ @cottoncheol​ @hella-sirius​ @spiderlingh​ @fixonbreakoff​ @cupcake416​ @expensive-idiot​ @bambam7​ @seri22 @ixdelv​ @hopefulchick​ @markleeiloveu @svtfix @sunnysorasworld​ @bluest-sky01 @smileywonnie @notevenheretbh1​ @peachyaeger​ @arianna-r13​ @luvv4jiung​ @caticorn61​ @sulkygyu​ @jhornytrash​ @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan​ @amourcheol​ @yogurttea​ @mental-hollows​ @byunfirstlady​ @tis-niki​ @esloao​ @onedumbho3​ @wonudazed​ ​@marklee-czennie @listxn​ @shiveringgaze​ @luvyouchuu​ @taintedsorrowa5158​ @sjjnx​ @cherimbp @jeonquilsposts @suzirumas​ @leclercloverbot​ @ilove-taeyong​ @na-ni @emptypromisesx​ @iwouldbangchan​ @melies-world @breadstickk​ @coupsgal​ @asyre​ @sanniekook​ @mingyusrealwife @yoonzinoooo​ @doyoism @turtash​ @lilsafsafbooyah​ @karlluvr​ @ana-marais98​ @staplerrrr​ @kpopficsworld​ @diorjgguk​ @tojorocks​ @taesdior​ @biteme690 @seomisaho​ @svtcaratlove​ @catloafff @kyeominara​ @delicatewinterenthusiast​ 

[astonmartinii]

i love him, it's ruining my life [guilty as sin part one] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

a contract ends, a relationship is exposed and even with everything on the line, she still loves him.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 621,099 others

yourusername: out and about town

view all comments

user1: girl? girl? GIRL?

user2: carlos' career is DEAD AND SHE'S POSTING VACATION PICS ON INSTAGRAM

user3: at least they're cute instagram pics

landonorris: y/n i think it's time you finally take that phone off of do not disturb

yourusername: but that's the perpetual state of my phone i am a poet i was born to be in the woods, if you have news tell me now before i close this app in 20 seconds

landonorris: i don't want to air your brother's business out in a public instagram comments literally just scroll through your timeline idiot

yourusername: wait let me open the family group chat

yourusername: WHAT

user4: are we about to see her reaction to carlos losing his seat in real time?

user5: let me grab my popcorn one sec

yourusername: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?

landonorris: take your phone off DND for once in your life and maybe you’d be clued in on the news

charles_leclerc: and while you’re at it reply to all the tiktoks i sent you

landonorris: not the time leclerc

charles_leclerc: but but but my tiktoks… i finally got a tarot card reading that resonates

landonorris: NOT THE TIME

charles_leclerc: don’t hate the player hate the game

carlossainz55: really?

charles_leclerc: i am TALKING ABOUT TIKTOKS LEAVE ME ALONE

yourusername: this is a lot - gosh can’t a girl go on holiday without everything imploding (i'll check the tiktoks in a second)

user6: anyone kinda weirded out that charles is just here joking with y/n as if his teammate and her brother hasn’t just been forced out of a job?

liked by carlossainz55

user7: babe he wasn’t forced out of a job, his contract wasn’t renewed. the last time i checked this was a sport where they compete not sit around and sit kumbaya

liked by charles_leclerc

user8: oh! they’re both liking shady comments already, it’s been a day since the announcement

user9: this is gonna get ugly isn’t it?

user10: awful, truly. i’m sat.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,029,458 others

carlossainz55: love all, trust a few and do wrong to none

view all comments

user11: .... right, what ever the fuck that means?

user12: i mean i was just here to celebrate the win what is all this poetry

user11: are we shading charles? lewis? ferrari?

yourusername: shakespeare, really?

carlossainz55: i can read you know

yourusername: oh really, that's news to me

user13: erm you guys i thought the whole job loss thing was meant to bring the family together....

user14: they joke like this all the time this is just sibling banter

user15: idk it's reading a lil more tense than usual, not that there's any reason for that (that we know of)

charles_leclerc: doing the tifosi proud ❤️

carlossainz55: will do while i can

user16: yall .... what happened to the chemistry

user17: they were never friends - pierre tried to tell yall

landonorris: a carlando podium !!! lets do this every week

carlossainz55: golf buddies and podium buddies - you love to see it

landonorris: LETS GO WILD AND PUT IT ON FERRARIS TAB THEY OWE YOU

landonorris: i mean let's celebrate your triumph good pal!

user18: the PR monster got lando :( rip

carlossainz55: just being able to win in front of the most important people in my life is enough

user19: does anyone else think it was weird that y/n wasn't at the race?

user20: like y/n loves australia she litr says that she was an aussie in a past life...

user21: also the most recent carlos comment... is y/n not one of the most important people in his life?

user22: do we think something has happened? like maybe he thought she should've cut her holiday short to come home to support him?

user23: also the fact that her and charles were immediately like joking around with each other? maybe it just rubbed him the wrong way

user24: but not even considering her an important person to him? and also that just seems like he's shifting all the blame to charles when it's ferrari who haven't extended the contract

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 892,309 others

tagged: kellypiquet & yourusername

maxverstappen1: she says she's a professional third wheel, i call that being a LEECH

view all comments

user29: unlikely trio but somehow my favourite

user30: y/n really be their overgrown child

yourusername: how am i the leech when i paid for the ice cream mr millionaire 🤨

maxverstappen1: ever thought about how i want to spend quality time with my girlfriend?

yourusername: won't someone think of the children

maxverstappen1: ur 23

yourusername: that's it! p and i are unionising against this if you find suspiciously well drawn crayon graffiti on your walls it was NOT me

maxverstappen1: don't threaten my walls if you still want to come to races

yourusername: low blow 😩

user31: does that mean... she's not going to races with carlos?

user32: she's always been in his garage tho like even with how close her and max have always been SHE'S ALWAYS IN GARAGE 55

user33: i feel like this has something to do with the whole seat situation i'm not sure how but like i think there's something weird going on here

kellypiquet: don't worry @yourusername it might be max's house but it's p that has the final say

yourusername: no one gets bluey like i do

maxverstappen1: yeah but while you're here you get the best seat at the tea party IT'S NOT FAIR

yourusername: well one of us can name all the disney princesses and one of us can't

user34: so.... y/n is living with max? but i thought her and carlos shared an apartment in madrid?

user35: guys i'm so confused

user36: we need the twitter detectives on this asap

charles_leclerc: no lec... when i specifically sent you a PR bundle, you hate to see it

maxverstappen1: you only sent that to us for y/n

charles_leclerc: maybe! but i have it on good authority that you loved the vanilla

maxverstappen1: ummmmmmm no i'm a professional athlete, y/n ate all of it

yourusernames: FALSEHOODS

charles_leclerc: i know who i believe

maxverstappen1: why is everyone ganging up on me in this comment section

user37: charles sending lec to max's house just for y/n WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN

user38: and does it have anything to do with carlos maybe kicking her out

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 673,892 others

yourusername: gotta make sure i give p a reason to tell me stick around

view all comments

user39: charles is always in the likes before me and i have notifications on

user40: they seem like such close friends it's so annoying that they're never spotted together at a race and we have no pictures of them :(

charles_leclerc: why do i never get any baked goods i literally sent my ice cream to my arch rivals house just for you

yourusername: you're never in the fucking country that's why

charles_leclerc: i have this kind of demanding job i don't know if you knew

yourusername: i also have the demanding job of being sexy and i cope just fine

charles_leclerc: i heard you got employee of the year, hard to be too upset when you're the competition

yourusername: better luck next time babe

user41: openly flirting with the guy that caused her brother to lose his job, this girl is just shameless

yourusername: do you think charles is the literal ceo of ferrari?

user42: why are you defending charles more than your actual brother?

yourusername: i feel like i gotta make this statement every three buisness days on here but like you people don't know what happens in our personal lives and i can defend my friends if i feel they're being unnecessarily questioned

user43: queen snapped omg

user38: they always be out here trying her like she's not a writer and poet SHE WILL READ YOU FOR FILTH

maxverstappen1: pretty sure she'd replace you with me in like two seconds so you're safe until [redacted] gets home

yourusername: i'm pretty sure with the right campaign i could sway jimmy and sassy to my side as well

user44: who the FUCK IS REDACTED

maxverstappen1: wouldn't you like to know 🤨

yourusername: max ???

maxverstappen1: what? i didn't have friends growing up i like that you tell me secrets

yourusername: oh :(

maxverstappen1: you wanna tell me more?

yourusername: NO YOU ALREADY KNOW THE BIGGEST ONE

maxverstappen1: true 💅🏻

user45: so like the secret is defo a relationship right?

user46: do we think carlos knows?

user47: by the fact that he's not in these comments... probably not

user48: so like he looses his seat and finds out his sister is in a secret relationship? someone give the guy a break

user49: or maybe, just maybe, there's a reason that y/n hasn't told carlos and he's not the guy we all think he is

liked by charles_leclerc

user50: OH? this war is so on ....

f1teaspill

liked by user51, user52 and 31,845 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

f1teaspill: the war at ferrari is heating up... turns out there's a lot carlos didn't know and FOR YEARS. yes, you're reading that right, y/n sainz and charles leclerc have been in a relationship for at least two years and believe us we have a VERY credible source like WITHIN THE FAMILY level source.

the most important thing about this whole relationship is how carlos did not know for years, so how much more was hidden from him? did y/n know about the seat swap for lewis? was she leaking strategies to charles? was she sabotaging her own brother?

view all comments

user53: OH SHITTTTTTTTTT

user54: cancel me if you will but i think the hottest couple in f1 just dropped

user55: the fact we've been robbed of content of them for years .... i'm angry I NEED THE POETRY ABOUT CHARLES

user56: i'm gonna need y/n or charles to drop all the pics in response

user57: y'all a source "within the family"? did these fools find out about y/n's relationship and immediately run to an f1 TEA PAGE???

user58: that's some goofy ass shit

user59: i find it funny that instead of sitting down and thinking about why their daughter/sister didn't feel comfortable enough to tell you about her relationship they're like i know EXACTLY who needs to hear this

user60: the way it's proved her completely right to not tell them

user61: do you guys think this is like a tv show or like fan fiction? in what world is y/n sharing strategies to fuck over her own BROTHER?

user62: also be for fucking real... strategies? ferrari? at least try and be realistic

user63: also.... walk with me .... why would y/n and charles conspire to put lewis hamilton in carlos' seat? LEWIS FUCKING HAMILTON AND SEVEN TIME WORLD CHAMPION? WHY WOULD CHARLES WANT TO TAKE HIM ON OVER A GUY HE'S ALREADY BEATEN TWICE

user64: see this is the point! sainz camp you can try and demonise charles and yOUR OWN DAUGHTER all you want but we all know it's bull shit

user65: one thing about this that really rubs me the wrong way is that the sainz camp clearly expected that if y/n was in a relationship with charles that she would've been a double agent for carlos? and because she's not fucking insane they're now going for character assassination of their own SISTER/DAUGHTER

user66: THIS THIS THIS

user67: carlos won't even consider y/n an "important" person in his life but expect her to sacrifice or exploit her relationship for cheap psychological points

user68: also y/n isn't even at most races so how is she getting carlos' strategies to give to charles? this shit doesn't make any sense

user69: carlos himself has said in an interview that y/n is useless when it comes to racing that she's just a supportive figure rather than someone who has any in depth racing knowledge

user70: this is insane level hating with all the evidence out here... and against your own family...

user71: this just makes me think that y/n wasn't in australia for a reason - like was she banned from carlos' garage

user72: and the fact she's been staying at max's it just makes me think that y/n was kicked out of her and carlos' apartment

user73: now tHATS INSANE

espnf1

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1,025,788 others

tagged: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc & yourusername

espnf1: well... this could be awkward

view all comments

user77: espn babe you're just like me

user78: *slides $5 across the bar* get a camera in the ferrari garage?

espnf1: we're working on it 😩

user79: pierre and max here... they really are the paddock gossip girls

maxverstappen1: i guess carlos couldn't handle that i knew who redacted was before him 🤷🏻‍♂️

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: don't put your sister on the streets and i won't dunk these jokes on your head

user80: is this like the official f1 civil war?

carlossainz55: you don't know anything max, i'd really keep your nose out of our business

maxverstappen1: i actually know exactly how you guys move, you tried it on 17 year old me and it becomes my business when my best friend calls me with no where else to go (also i know you changed the locks while you were in maranello so she wouldn't be able to go to charles, you're not slick)

carlossainz55: i never took you as a lap dog max

yourusername: calling him the lap dog when you're the biggest bitch on the grid - bold

carlossainz55: you're burning a lot of bridges for a talentless slut who had to start fucking my teammate when we cut you off

yourusername: keep throwing your PR to the fire and see who fucking hires you, i guess we'll both be unemployed bums

user80: also imagine calling her talentless like she isn't a well established poet LOL

user81: guys this is getting so bad so quickly

user82: we got the whole rest of the season of this

user83: mad respect to max for sticking up for his bestie

user84: and her actual boyfriend isn't?

yourusername: charles will do his talking on the track like he always does. he won't debase himself with bickering in instagram comments, funnily enough ferrari don't like that - might be the reason he still has a seat and someone doesn't

carlossainz55: or he's a pussy who has his woman talk for him

yourusername: at least he has a woman to talk for him, he doesn't behind his dad at any sign of trouble. i've always known i didn't matter to dad the moment i wasn't a boy but i'm not afraid of him or you and i know exactly how you work. good luck

user85: do they know we can all read this?

user86: when i'm in an oversharing contest and the sainz siblings walk in

user87: those ferrari debriefs are gonna be AWKWARD

yourusername: especially since he doesn't have binotto to hide behind any more

user88: girl you good?

yourusername: i've never been better, this has been building for years even before charles and i got together

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 908,487 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: i love you, it's ruining my life

view all comments

user89: y/n i'm gonna let you finish but we could really get the best poetry out of all of this

user90: for real like yeah i'm sorry your brother tried to make you homeless, exposed your relationship, accused you of treason and called you a talentless slut - but think of the poetry!

charles_leclerc: i love you and i hope you're okay

yourusername: i'll always be okay with you

charles_leclerc: it's out now and no one can take us away from each other

charles_leclerc: i'd actually love to see them try

yourusername: i'd go through this fortnight of hell over and over again if it meant i'd still keep you

charles_leclerc: i'd like to say this is the end of it but i think we're in for the long run now

yourusername: i'm prepared to go to war for you

charles_leclerc: there's no one i'd rather be on the front lines with

user91: oh brother... YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A POET WE GET IT

charles_leclerc: * in love with

user91: oh my bad

charles_leclerc: no worries

user91: STILL GROSS BRO

liked by maxverstappen1

charles_leclerc: max ???

maxverstappen1: you guys need to calm down cause i'm not good with words and kelly is gonna start scrutinising my cards and i DO NOT HAVE THE VOCABULARY FOR IT

yourusername: lol

maxverstappen1: lol? LOL? did our brief yet forced stint as roommates mean nothing?

yourusername: fine i'll ghostwrite your valentines cards

user92: so this is all a bit melodramatic

user93: he CHANGED THE LOCKS BRO SHE HAS THE RIGHT TO BE MELODRAMATIC

liked by charles_leclerc

user94: okay so now we're in full blown f1 civil war - who is on each side?

user95: well max and pierre are on charles' side. i'd also add in lewis, seb, oscar, esteban, george, alex, yuki and daniel

user96: so carlos has lando and fernando?

fernandoalo_oficial: it might not be blood but that's my daughter

user96: ????

user97: did he just show up to diss carlos and then refuse to elaborate?

user98: sounds like a nando thing to do .... also just leaves carlos with lando lol

user99: this feels a bit unfair

yourusername: all is fair in love and poetry

fin.

note: so as soon as i had this idea (litr TTPD release day) i have been so busy and WHACKED with the worst writer's block but i hope this is a good start and rest assured knowing the beef will only get worse... I LOVE DRAMA

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: @aadu2173 @rhythmstars @kqliie @booksandflowrs @2bormaybenot @firelily-mimi @evie-119

[naomiarai]

𝔸𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 — 𝙻. 𝙷𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚐

╔. ■ .═══════╗

➤ in which you’ve grown a liking to the roommate of the guy you tutor.

╚═══════. ■ .╝

➤ PAIRING — heeseung × fem! reader

➤ GENRE — romance, smut, fluff, comedy if you squint, f2l, college au

➤ WARNINGS — mentions of drinking, dom! heeseung, big dick! heeseung, sub! reader, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, pretty), oral (m.rec), vaginal fingering, doggy, manhandling, lots of kissing, creampie, multiple orgasms, spanking, slight nipple play, kind of public sex?/ semi public sex. [ lmk if i missed anything ]

➤ WC — 6.6K

➤ AUTHOR — reblogs and feedback are appreciated! (not proofread)

➤ [ enha masterlist ] [ taglist ]

You lift your head from the fiction book it was practically buried in, taking in your surroundings. The cafeteria was huddled with people, either stuffing their faces or babbling too much to care about their cold food. Reaching for your spoon, you fit the last of your rice into your mouth, chewing far too slow, with a sudden foul expression. You stare at Beomgyu, who weirdly stumbles his way towards you. What an idiot.

He makes his way to chair beside you, carelessly dragging it to sit down. You swallow expectedly, pulling a poker face. Beomgyu’s the last person you’d talk to, truly because he was a complete imbecile. The kind that if you were to tell him that he was one, he'd start fake crying and stick his very blue tongue out. (Yes he almost always has a blue fucking lollipop stuck in his mouth, and it TOTALLY irks you.)

Clearly not a big fan of him. So why would said Beomgyu come up to you?

He rotates his chair to completely face yours, letting out a deep breath; smiling at you uneasily. You arch your eyebrow, holding back a snort at how stupid he looks eyeing you.

“Uh..hi.. I’m Beomgyu, Choi—” he says; getting cut off by you before he could finish.

“Choi Beomgyu, I know,” you drawl. Who doesn't at this point?

He swallows nervously; eyes wandering away from yours, “Look, I know this is totally out of character for me, and I would kill to go back but, I kind of need your help” he whispers as if to make sure no one hears him.

Your face contorts into disbelief and confusion. Thats odd.

“Help? Why would you need my help?, don’t you have your buddies for that?”

Beomgyu's nervous, fidgeting with his fingers on the table. “Well, they could try, but it won't really help,” he confesses. “My grades are too low, I can't keep up the act of being okay, you know?” he mutters lowly.

You press your tongue against your cheek, getting what he’s trying to say.

“So, you're asking if I can tutor you?" you clarify, waiting for his nod. He quietly agrees. While tutoring isn’t exactly your specialty, you’ve given it a shot in the past. You could easily say no and leave him without help, but the opportunity to earn some extra cash is tempting enough to give it a go.

“Alright, what's the wage?” you ask in a relaxed tone. Beomgyu seems relieved, attempting to hide his grin.

“Thinking $10 per hour?” he suggests tentatively.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” you respond, unimpressed. Come on Beomgyu, you’re pretty loaded.

“How about $15?” he proposes without hesitation.

“Hmm, on second thought..”

“$25!” he interjects, irritation creeping into his voice.

You smile, content with the improved offer. “Deal.”

“Great, we can meet at my apartment, I just moved in last month; I need to be independent apparently” he says quickly. “Just a heads up, I have a roommate. I totally had to fight him for the apartment, so we’re rooming. He won't be a bother, we'll just have the place to ourselves in my room, he’s never home anyway”.

You nod in understanding and inquire, “Is he from around here?” Beomgyu nods and responds, “Yeah, his name's Heeseung, you know, the one thats’s boring AF?”

You take a brief pause, running your tongue over your lips as you wrack your brain for any sign of a Heeseung among your classmates. Surprisingly, you can’t seem to place him, which is unusual since you typically have a good grasp of everyone in your year. It's possible that Heeseung is just someone who prefers to stay under the radar, which might explain why you haven’t heard of him.

“Weird, I don’t know a Heeseung in our year” you say with confused tone.

Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes rolling in dismissal. “He’s always been like that. Anyway, I’m only still rooming with him because, well, he's almost never home and I can’t cook” he says, eyes bored.

The lunch bell rings loudly, abruptly halting your conversation. You glance at Beomgyu and manage a small smile. “I’ll drop by tomorrow; today's just too busy, you inform him. He gives a thumbs-up in response. With that settled, you start clearing your tray.

╰┈➤

Exiting the elevator, you walk down the corridor, each step bringing you closer to Beomgyu's door. He's waiting for you, his dark hair easy to spot in the hallway. You approach him, greeting him by waving your hand.

You quickly kick off your sneakers and step in, scanning the area with a keen eye. Everything looks neat enough, but the sight of a mop leaning against the wall and the freshly mopped floor makes you wonder. Did he just clean up right before you got here? Seems likely, considering he didn't bother to sweep before mopping. Looks like cleaning isn't really his thing.

Beomgyu gestures towards his room, pulling you out of your thoughts. You follow him inside, and as you step in, you’re greeted by a burst of color. The walls are painted a bold red, adorned with pictures and posters of basketball stars and iconic moments. You can't help but admire the shiny pictures that catch the light, giving the room a vibrant energy. “Cool room” you say, feeling drawn to the bright atmosphere created by all the basketball themed decor.

“Thanks” he says proudly, glancing up at his room.

You glance over at him, smoothly pulling out one of the chairs positioned by the desk, then lowering yourself onto its burgundy red cushion. Beomgyu follows your lead, exhaling audibly as he takes a seat beside you. He picks up a book from his cluttered desk and flips through it, his brow furrowed in concentration. Eventually, he slides it over to you, saying quietly, ‘I don't understand this.’

Examining the content, you meet Beomgyu's gaze with a bored expression. “Beomgyu, this is really basic," you remark casually, flipping through the pages without much interest. You know you’re being fairly annoying saying that. But if Beomgyu wants you to tutor him, he’ll have to deal with it.He gives you a dramatic eye roll and clenches his teeth, interrupting you with a sarcastically sweet tone, “Can we just get to the point already?” You stifle a chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Alright, alright”.

After spending about two hours tutoring, you're ready to wrap things up. Despite Beomgyu's jokes sneaking in here and there, you feel good about how it went. Plus, getting paid $50 is a nice bonus for your time.

You lean back in your chair, letting out a tired yawn. “Well, I guess it's time to head out,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. Beomgyu nods in agreement, rising from his seat. Just then, the sound of the front door being unlocked catches you off guard, causing you to glance at Beomgyu for reassurance. He seems unfazed. Oh. It must be his roommate, Heeseung, if you remember correctly.

You don’t think much of it, heading out of his room towards the door, Beomgyu following close behind. Glancing at the hand holding the door still, you stop on your tracks, awkwardly waiting for this Heeseung to enter. The soft creak of the door’s release draws your attention, as your eyes meet his, times seems to momentarily halt. Were people supposed to be this good looking or was it the lack of love in your life? God, he’s mesmerizing.

“_______”? You hear Beomgyu say, as your mind cuts your train of thoughts. “This is Heeseung, the one I was talking about yesterday” he tells you as you nod quietly in his direction, eyes still fixated on Heeseung.

Heeseung eyes you up and down, humming when Beomgyu introduces you as the girl from class who tutors him. You look familiar. You smile shyly, legs heading towards the end of the door. But what you caught on his face just as you stepped out brings red to your cheeks.

He fucking smirked.

It leaves you pondering, as you mutter a ‘bye’ to Beomgyu, not bothering to look at him. What was that? Did he do that to fluster you? You shouldn’t overthink it. Maybe he does that all time. Whatever, you’re not going to dwell on it. But it does leave you with more enthusiasm to come over to tutor Beomgyu. You’ll hope the only thing you’ll do here is teach.

It’s been about a month since you’ve been tutoring Beomgyu. You’re overall pretty satisfied with how it’s been going; you could see genuine improvement with him.

Other than the fact that you’re effort is going on the right track, you might also be taking advantage of your time there. Your suspiciously long ‘study breaks’ might have not always been for the said purpose. They might have been to make small talk with his roommate; when he arrived home earlier than usual. Or when the times up and you have to leave, delaying your departure so you can see his face atleast once a day. You can’t deny the attraction. Sure, the small talk might be slightly awkward but you atleast get to know him.

You walk out of Beomgyu’s room, on one of your so called ‘breaks’. Today's a good day. Heeseung’s home early!

You make your way towards the kitchen; you must say the counters are well done. They’re like a distraction if it gets awkward talking to him As the door to Heeseung's room swings open, the subtle movement sends a shiver down your spine, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You straighten up, hands crawling up a cabinet to find a glass for water.

You feel his figure behind you, somehow so close yet so far. “On break?” He asks, voice raspy. Must’ve took a nap. “Yeah” you mumble taking ahold of a glass. You turn around, drinking in his figure; oh fuck he’s in a tank top.

You almost stumble walking forward to fill your glass, just when you feel him grab your glass, “I’ll fill it for you. Grab me one too will ya?” he says grinning. Oh does he have to smile like that infront of you?

Nodding slowly, you walk back, getting another glass and handing it over to him. Heeseung mutters a ‘thank you’, proceeding to fill it up.

“Beomgyu tells me you don’t recognize me. I sit behind you in chemistry, silly , i was waiting for you to realise” he says with slight confusion laced into his words.

Your eyes become slightly wide, imagining yourself inside chemistry class. It ticks your brain. Of course, that’s why you must have looked familiar to him. “Right, sorry I never caught that”.

Before he can say anything you hear Beomgyu’s whiny voice calling your name, indicating it’s been far too long since you’ve been gone.

Now you’re on your way to Beomgyu’s again. It’s a Saturday, but he requested you to come. Just as you enter your cab, you hear the loud shrieking sound of thunder, indicating rain. Getting in, you sink into the cozy cab seat, the sound of rain tapping on the windows and occasional flashes of lightning outside creating a quite yet filled atmosphere. You gaze outside with a slight pout. It’s quite late as your leaving now, you hope the rain calms down by the time you have to go home.

Stepping out of the cab, rain pours down relentlessly. You dash towards the elevator, hands shielding your head from the downpour. Inside, you quickly fix your hair in the mirrored walls, hoping the rain doesn’t worsen. Looking into the mirror like walls of the elevator, you fix up your hair. God, you really hope the rain calms down.

The elevator’s soft robotic hum faded as you stepped into the familiar corridor, your feet moving automatically towards the well known door. With a sigh, you rang the doorbell, the sound cutting through the quiet. Taking off your sandals, you huff, waiting.

You hear feet walk up behind the door, unlocking it. But you don’t expect to meet eyes with Heeseung, white earphones stuck in his eyes and a song paused on his phone.

“Beomgyu’s not home..? It’s a Saturday anyway, you tutor him on Saturdays too? Geez” he says as you stand still, digesting what he just said.

Before you can answer him, your phone buzzes, a notification.

[Choi Beomgyu], 7:14 PM :

heyy im so sorry but uh i forgot i had plans today.. youve probably reached by now and its raining like crazy and I don't think its gonna stop so you can stay over for the night in my room, i’ll be at a friends’. use one of my tshirts or smtg. also heeseung's home so you wont get killed at night! again sorry!! </3

You internally roll your eyes. Seriously? But you can’t stay mad at him, he seems kind of genuine.

“I think I’ll have to crash here tonight,” you admit, your cheeks flushing slightly as you offer a tentative smile. As if on cue, Heeseung pulls the door open wide, ushering you inside with a dramatic gesture. “Beomgyu asked me to use his room, kay?” you explain, feeling a sudden surge of liveliness.

Heeseung chuckles at you, his eyes fixed on you as he watches you set down on your bag on the couch heading into Beomgyu’s room. You still feel captivated each time you enter his room; you wonder what Heeseung’s room looks like, you’ve only ever seen glimpses of it whenever he came out of it. Black walls or something.

You look around for his closest, quickly landing your eyes on the half-black, half-red wardrobe. Grabbing the handle and tugging it open, you start to look for t-shirts, thats’s something comfortable. And maybe some shorts as well. Yeah, you might look a bit awkward in it but it’s just for one night.

You frown your face, unable to locate any t-shirts. God, where does this man keep his things?

“What’re you looking for so interesting?” you hear a familiar voice say, flinching at it. You turn around to find Heeseung, arms crossed leaning against one of the open doors of the wardrobe. Dangerously close to you, you must say.

“B..Beomgyu asked me to use his t-shirt or something for the night” you explain, licking your lips. “But I just can’t find any”, you say with a annoyed sigh.

Was it just you or did you imagine the look of distate on Heeseung’s when you mentioned wearing Beomgyu’s t-shirt?

“They’re all in the wash, the idiot probably forgot, use mine,” he tells you, staring into your eyes with miniscule smile.

You can’t help but feel shocked by his offer, causing your heart to beat faster. It may seem insignificant, borrowing clothes, but it’s Heeseung. Your voice feels trapped in your throat, a rush of excitement running through your veins. It just feels special when it comes from him. But you definitely can’t say no, can you?

You reply in a quiet voice, trying not to seem overly enthusiastic, “If you’re completely sure...” He responds with a gentle smile while gently tugging at your wrist. Surprised by the gesture, you let out a soft gasp but ultimately decide to go along with it.

Entering his room, directly opposite Beomgyu’s, the matte black walls catch your eye, imbuing the space with a sleek, modern vibe. The abundance of books scattered; if arranged with proper shelving and space could make a pretty mini library.

As you find yourself in the midst of his room, you can't help but admire the coolness of both of your rooms. “You guys have such cool rooms” you exclaim, watching as Heeseung frantically searches through his closet. You hear his echoed chuckle as you walk towards him, taking a peek at his closet. He seems to have just destroyed its neatness. But you do notice the many t-shirts laying flat and wrinkled on the floor.

“There’s a like a billion one of those t-shirts you’re searching for on the floor, Lee” you tell him, bending down to pick up the two you see. “And a pair of shorts too” you add. Heeseung hums in response with a grin, sighing as he pulls out a pretty white t-shirt and a pair of black shorts. Certainly a little too big for you, sure as hell comfortable. Plus it’s Heeseung’s, makes it all the better.

He turns towards you, holding the t-shirt out in display. “I think you’d look nice in this” he tells you trying to contain a smile sheepishly. Did he do all this searching, messing up his well organised wardrobe, just because he thought this one specific one would look good on you? You would kiss him if you could right now.

You try to stay calm, trying to hide your eagerness as you thank him softly, taking it from him. Turning around, you move to leave; but stop on your tracks when you feel his hand on your wrist stopping you. Instinctively you look back, Heeseung’s face mere inches away from yours. If you moved any closer, your lips would touch his. And you don’t know if that’s a risk you’re willing to take.

“You forgot this” he says,handing you the black shorts, brown orbs still looking into yours. You feel some sort of relief when he says that, quickly taking it from him. “Right” you say in response walking away.

As you walk away, you think about what just happened; would he have kissed you back if you did first? Does he like you like that? Or is it just some occurring tension between you two? You don’t know but you’ll let it play out like this.

Standing before the bathroom mirror, you take a moment to appreciate the comfort and loose fit of your attire. The t-shirt drapes effortlessly over your torso, offering a snug yet relaxed feeling. The shorts fit good at your waist too, thanks to it being elastic. Heeseung was right about thinking it’d look good on you. And again, it’s his.

You step out of the bathroom, slowly walking your way into the living room. You spot Heeseung on je couch, a video game console in his hands and eyes fixated on the TV screen. Stopping on your tracks you watch him, completely not noticing you. From what you’ve seen, he’s not as boring as Beomgyu has told you before. You see a second console on the coffee table. It’s so obvious they play together.

“Mind if I join in?”, you ask, your voice brimming with excitement as you make your way over to the couch where he's lounging. With a playful bounce, you settle yourself down right beside him, looking over at him.

His eyes roam over you, and you feel your cheeks heating up. Is he pleased with how his clothes fit you, or does he see something off? Heeseung’s gulp breaks the tension, and he meets your gaze once more, leaving you uncertain about what his look truly means.

“Do I look weird or something?” you say, laughing awkwardly. Please say no.

He almost immediately denies your assumptions, “No, fuck you don’t,” he says swallowing once more, “You look..good, that’s all” he continues. No, that’s not what he wants to say. He thinks you look hot. But best left inside his head. You internally sigh in relief, thank god. Resuming back to what you said, you ask again giggling, “So can I play?”

He nods his head in agreement, grinning. Bending over to grab the other console, you shuffle into a comfortable seating position, hands on your knees. “Good luckkk” you drawl with confidence. Heeseung scoffs at you with a smile, he’d kiss that attitude out of you but he'll watch you play for now.

“I’ve experienced Beomgyu storming out in anger because he didn't win like five times in a row,” he tells you with a cocky smile. Alright, skilled gamer Heeseung. Although your confidence may have wavered, you refuse to let it affect you. Your main goal is to enjoy yourself during your time here.

“Beomgyu acts like you’re so boring, yet he seems to have pretty good friendship with you” you say softly. Heeseung hums in response, “It’s because I only play with him sometimes, not really so often. He’s just over-dramatic, really” he brushes off.

You nod in understanding, “Let’s play then, shall we?”

You don’t think you’ve ever laughed this hard at someone’s face before. Heeseung’s face when you swiftly went past him and won the game has you breaking into peels of laughter. His face is truly priceless.

“Did that hurt your ego?” you say between soft giggles. Heeseung stares at you, holding back a grin. The way you feel confident after winning over him, entices him; He wants to ruin that confidence, he wants to ruin you. “Beginners luck” he replies instead. You continue to giggle at him, laughter dying down as silence pierces through. It’s peaceful, not awkward at all as the both of you sit in the rather calming quietnesss.

The quiet room suddenly got noisy with your unexpected hiccups. You felt them like tiny jumps in your chest, making you stumble as you hurried to the kitchen, your steps clumsy against the relentless spasms. Opening up the very familiar cupboard, you tap against its inner floor, reaching for a glass. Gasping quietly as you land your feet from tip toeing; you lick your lips, turning to go fill it up.

You’ve always liked this kitchen. It gave you a feeling nostalgia; having such a similar one back at your parents house.

“You enjoyed winning so much didn’t you?” Heeseung says with amusement lacing his words. Gulping down the last of your water with an uncontrollable smile, you nod at him. You like having him slightly worked up. It’s entertaining.

Heeseung walks over towards you, suddenly caging you with his arms. Your hands instinctively grasp at the counter behind you, eyes darting down. His eyes look into yours sharply inching even closer, if you went just a little closer, your noses would touch and at that point you should just kiss. Temptation clouds your mind and ball of confidence strikes you; retrieving your hands from the counter, you pause before connecting your lips to his.

His lips freeze against yours; certainly was not expecting you to do that. But as soon as he hears your soft whine, his arms that once surrounded the space around you, grabbed at your waist. The soft feeling of his lips on yours melts your body into desire, but before you can fall under it, you pull away.Heeseung groans just as you cut contact, looking at you with an puzzled expression. What are you doing to him? You give him what he wants and blatantly take it away. That’s the game you play huh? You tip toe, bending your neck over his as you take a peek at the wall clock fixed in the living room, just next to the kitchen. 10 PM it read. Time does fly when you have fun.

“Sex this late night ruins my sleep” you tell him with a fake pout plastered on your face. “Maybe next time, Lee” you add on as you cup his face, only to kiss his cheek before slipping away out. Heeseung freezes, shock etched across his features as he replays the scene in his mind. He grapples with your intentions, wondering when this “next time” will occur. It’s clear you’re pushing his buttons, you literally kissed him for a hot minute and left him helplessly hanging. You’re good at switching up aren’t you? If he has to play this game to put you in your place, then so be it.

All confidence that resided inside you vanished as soon as you closed the door to Beomgyu’s room. God, did you actually do that? Your ego definitely seems to spike sometimes. You don’t know if you regret it; from the sheer look in his eyes and searing kiss, it was obvious he liked you too. You just might have left quite an impression on him, it was bold of you. The future of your actions lay flat for tomorrow.

You wake up to the noise of the front door being opened, assuming it was Beomgyu, you rub your tightly closed eyes open. Having slept fairly well last night, you quickly got out of bed, arranging the sheets neat. This wasn’t your bed or home to leave untidy, like you occasionally do. Although you think Beomgyu is no better than you.

Walking out you see Beomgyu, helping himself to a cup of ramen. You’d like some breakfast before you leave.

“Hey, got another cup?” you ask with grogginess evident in your voice. Beomgyu finally takes a look at you, pausing at your question for a few minutes before nodding. He turns back momentarily to grab another cup, sliding it over to you. You can’t help but turn your eyes over to Heeseung’s room. Is he still in bed?

“Where’s your ‘boring’ roommate?” you ask him with a hint laughter in your voice. Beomgyu gives you a sarcastic roll of his eyes, “He left for the gym right as I came in” he says replying to your asked question. Oh. You guess the only time you’ll see him again is on Monday.

Finally pouring in the hot water, you close the cup with the paper lid, waiting. As you sit waiting for your meal, lost in your thoughts, your mind wanders aimlessly. Suddenly, a sharp gasp escapes your lips as your attention is abruptly pulled back to reality by Beomgyu, who has made an odd noise while pointing his index finger in your direction.

You look at him with a confused expression, “I thought I told you use my t-shirt? That’s not mine” he says, staring at you for an answer. Halting for short second, you reply back “I looked through your closet, and Heeseung told me that they were all in the wash, genius. So he lent me his”

Beomgyu looks at you with squinting eyes, processing all what you said before he casually hums. Opening your lid back up, you mix your noodles before going in for a much needed savory bite, humming in delight you look up with happy eyes.

“So, What did you do last night?” Beomgyu questions, inching his elbows closer to you. The question is harmless and innocent if you view it the way you should, but in your case, there are only two things memorable — winning over Heeseung and kissing Heeseung. You can’t help smile internally remembering them, you still feel the feeling of his lips on yours if you think about it long enough.

Beomgyu waves his hand infront of you, as to pop your thinking bubble, “R..Right, yeah, I didn’t do much, just played some video games and went to bed, that’s all” you answer stuttering slightly at your words.

His eyes light up at the mention of video games, a grin fighting for freedom on his face, “Who won?” he asks enthusiastically. You’re sure Beomgyu’s hoping for you to say that you had won, recollecting that he always lost to his skilled roommate. Licking your lips in a swift motion, you press your lips together in a tight smile, gazing at Beomgyu.

The look on your face is all he needs to let out a sigh of happy relief, “Fuck yes! Somebody actually beat Heeseung” he exclaims with delight offering you a high-five, which you gladly receive. Slurping up the last of your breakfast, you walk over to throw in the trash informing Beomgyu on the way that you’ll head out after changing back into your clothes from last night.

As if remembering something important, he calls you again, “ _______!, just wanted to let you know, I’m hosting a party at my parents’ place on Monday you know, since the semesters about to end. And they’re not home anyway. Your’re invited if you’re up for it” he blurts out.

“Who's gonna be there?” you question, intrigued.

“Like practically everyone; Yuna, the girl with red glasses, Heeseung, me, duh and—

“I’ll be there, send me the address” you cut him off, rushing back inside and change before you leave.

You apply a coat of rosy lip gloss, pressing your lips together with satisfaction. You look good tonight, clad in a snug black mini skirt paired elegantly with a delicate white lace tube top and your hair down in waves. The top showcases just the right amount of skin, accentuating the look of your slender silver chain. It’s both sexy and cute.

The party’s at 8 PM, and you’ll be just on time if you leave right now. You take one more good look in your full length mirror, nodding to yourself, before finally heading out.

╰┈➤

You stare in awe at the house the party resided in. It’s truly beautiful, and big. The lively music and joyful voices coming from inside indicate that Beomgyu has invited a lot of people. It’s clear he’s gone all out to make sure everyone has a great time tonight. You enter with a soft sigh, clutching onto your baby pink handbag. The music is loud but quite enough to hear people talk to one another. Your eyes scan around the area; looking for Beomgyu. The large table with drinks catch your eye as you spot Beomgyu sipping on a can of beer.

He locks eyes with you as you make your way towards him, managing a small smile.

“Oh my god, you’re like two minutes late” he exclaims dramatically, holding up his phone in the which glowed ‘8:02 PM’. You give him an unimpressed look. That seems to shut him up as he gives you a small pout.

You grab a can of beer from the table, popping it open and taking a sip.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a house tour, you’re probably the only one who hasn’t been here” he tells already walking ahead.

You faithfully trail behind him as he leads you on a tour through each luxurious room, offering short descriptions of their purposes. The surroundings are nothing short of extravagant, soaring ceilings, intricate architectural designs, and an abundance of totally unnecessary paintings on the wall. The overall aura of the place resembles a palace, filled to the brim with people.

As you both progress down the hallway, the fading music suggests you’re approaching the final room. Each room you’ve passed has been bustling with at least five people, engaged in drinking, sleeping, or playing some sort of game. However, between all this, Heeseung’s absence stands out. You’re left to ponder where he is : Either he dipped out on coming or he’s inside the room you’re just about to enter.

Beomgyu gestures towards the door, softly remarking, “And here’s the last room, my childhood sanctuary.” With a gentle click, he swings it open, revealing a truly elegant space. Stepping inside, you instinctively search for Heeseung, your gaze finally settling on him. He acknowledges Beomgyu, waving at him before he buries his gaze on you.

You look away as soon as you make eye contact, pretending to observe the room instead. Other than Heeseung there are few other guys in the room, they’re all sitting on the bed; probably chatting before you came in.

“What are ya’ll doing just talking? The drinks are downstairs, come down!” Beomgyu tells them with annoyance evident in his voice.

“I’ll stay, not in the mood to drink right now” Heeseung mutters, his eyes still fixated on you. Beomgyu looks at you with bored eyes as if silently letting you know that the person who just spoke is infact really boring. You give him a small giggle before telling him that you’d come down in a bit too. You just might have a little talking to do. Beomgyu gives you an expression of ‘you too?’ before leading the other guys out down with him.

As soon as you turn your head from watching them leave to head down, you slightly flinch at Heeseung walking past you to swiftly lock the door. Safe to say you’re not surprised. You slide your handbag off your shoulder, mounting it on a nearby shelf. Just then you feel a gentle tug at your wrist and immediate contact with Heeseung’s lips. You halt for a second before you wrap your hands around his neck, pads of your fingers pressing into the nape of his neck.

His lips feel just as soft as the first time, addicting you must say. He seems just as eager as you are, slyly pushing his tongue inside your mouth with a grin you could tell he had on. You whine into his mouth, signalling him to pull away to breathe. He pulls away slowly, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you pant heavily. God you really need him right now. His eyes look into yours as you giggle at the lip gloss smeared over his mouth. He looks at you amused as you wipe then gloss off with a focused stare.

“What happened to ‘sex ruins your sleep at night’ ?” he asks you mockingly, running his hands over your ass.

“Your dick’s hard” you retort, hands coming down to palm his cock. He hisses as you do so, mumbling a curse.

“I’ll just go fuck another girl” he tells with a smirk, eager to see your reaction. He’s really trying to piss you off huh?

“No you fucking won’t” you tell him with a laugh, connecting your lips back together. He dosen’t complain, immediately melting into the kiss as you still rub his hard on, making him moan into it. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how good his lips feel against yours.

“That’s right, so suck me off will you?” he says against your lips.

And that's how you end up on your knees, holding onto Heeseung’s thighs tightly while he thrusts his big fucking dick into your mouth. You eagerly suck and twirl your tongue around the lower part of his shaft, making sure to cover it with your saliva. The grip on his thighs becomes even tighter as he pushes his cock deeper into your throat, his mushroom tip brushing against the back.

“J..Just like that baby, god you were made for this” he rasps with eyes closed shut, fingers caressing your hair. You let out quiet moans against his dick, your panties progressively getting wetter. You’re desperate for him inside you.

Continuing to suck him off, you decide to tease him a bit, after all he is, so close to coming. You pull off his dick, retrieving your hands from his thighs and grabbing at the base of it and giving his red tip kitten licks. He groans at loss of your mouth, eyes glaring at your doe eyed ones. “Don’t fucking tease or you won’t get to cum later” he warns you. The thought of not cumming when your pussy was dripping and pulsating like this sent shivers down your spine.

You almost immediately stuff his cock back in your mouth; but you pause when you feel feel Heeseung’s hands gripping your hair, fucking your mouth. It’s sloppy and messy; you feel hot tears well up at your eyes, falling down endlessly as he continues to fuck your throat deep.

“Thats’s a good girl, fuck, ’m gonna cum” he moans, his movements in your mouth gradually easing as he releases his warmth down your throat. Heeseung breathes heavily, his eyes widening with a smile as he gazes at your exhausted expression; cheeks flushed, eyes watery, and most likely a very wet pussy. He bends down to pick you up again, mounting you on his lap as he lifts your skirt, fingers dipping into your soaked cunt.

You whine into his neck, feeling him move your drenched panties to the side, filling your cunt with two of his fingers, sinking in and out of you painfully slow. Heeseung chuckles at your whimpers, finding them cute as he adds a third finger, picking up his pace. He starts pressing wet kisses into your neck, sucking on the shell of your ear which only fueled the building pleasure inside of you.

“Hah—! please, wanna cu..m gonna cum” you groan into his neck as you cream over his fingers, knot in your stomach free as you relieve your high, hugging Heeseung tighter. He brings up his coated fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Need to fuck you now, but let me eat you out next time, yeah?” he whispers into your ear, as you finally look at him again placing a kiss on your lips. You hum in response, a slight gasp escaping your lips as he flips you on your stomach, ass up in the air; removing the your skirt and sticky underwear. He takes a moment to look at your glistening cunt, slightly swollen from your previous orgasm.

You want to say something you know you shouldn’t, because one, it’s way beyond the truth and two, not when he has you under him like this, no control over him and pussy ready for him to slip into. But you like pissing him off and getting him worked up. Just as you feel his dick poke at your entrance, you whisper, “Small dick”.

You may have said it in a low voice but the way you feel Heeseung stiffen up behind you only confirms he had clearly heard it.

“Oh yeah? Enlighten me on the girl who was fucking choking on this small dick not so long ago” he spits out with amusement lacing his words, cock slipping into your folds whole without notice. You let out a string of choked moans, words breaking down into nothing as he pounds into you relentlessly. Falling face down onto the sheets, you tug on them tighter, body jerking and thighs shaking. To say he felt good buried inside of you was a huge understatement.

He hold your hips tighter, cursing at how you clench down at him each time he goes deeper into you.

“Look at you, cunts sucking me in so good, been desperate for my cock haven’t you?” Heeseung growls with a cruel laugh, leaning down to suck on your back as he still fucks into you. You don’t answer, mind fogged up with cock ruining your pussy as your eyes roll back. One of his hands pull you back up, then grabbing at your bouncing tits, rubbing at your nipples.

He slaps your ass, eyes watching it jiggle with each pound he gives. “Fucking answer me” he demands you, only making you moan louder as you feel his tip brutally hammer at your cervix, pushing you towards the edge.

“Yes! hnng!— fuck yes! gah- please” you blurt out, the need to cum again building up fast.

Heeseung lets out a shriek, cock swollen inside of you as he fills your cunt up with his cum. But he still fucks into you, getting you closer to your high. The way he filled you up only tightened the knot inside you, squirting out on his cock and coating. Your vision sees white as you pant heavily, head throbbing.

Heeseung slowly moves your tired body onto his lap, picking you all over your face as you get back into your senses. “What a way to finally say I love you” he tells you, kissing the crown on your head. You giggle at him, feeling a strong sense of euphoria rush through you.

“I’ve always liked you” you tell him, looking away and playing with his fingers. He chuckles at you, placing another kiss on your lips. “Good, I had a thing for you too” he whispers into your ear.

Suddenly you hear a stiff knock at door, you jolt up in surprise, “Can you please open the fucking door? I need to piss! All the others are occupied!” you hear Beomgyu’s voice outside, desperate to get inside. It makes you realise you literally fucked on his bed, and totally messed up the cheeks. The thought of cleaning it up burns red into your cheeks.

You look up at Heeseung, as if asking what to do. But with the grin he has on his face says otherwise.

“Wait just a little more, I’ve got to make _______ cum again!” he screams out at the door slyly spreading your legs again.

You don’t think Beomgyu has to use the bathroom anymore.

[emmyrosee]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a modern!au sukuna x fem!reader in which they're dating and they're babysitting little yuji for the day, going to the park, grocery store, or whatever, and some old lady thinks yuji is their son and sukuna and reader had yuji as teens so she starts judging, making comments and kinda insulting them for having a kid so young. (but yuji is just sukuna's little brother)

I hope what I said made sens 😅 and feel totally free to ignore my request if you don't want to do it or if you're not taking requests at the moment :)

tw// mean old ladies, insinuations of s3x in teenage years, sukuna talking back, lots of swearing, mentions of death, I wouldn’t normally put warnings but juuuuuuuuuust in case

There’s a scoff that rings out in the air as the last of your footstep passes her. It’s enough to make Sukuna stop on impact. You turn to him, and Yuuji in his stroller looks up to see what the stop is, but Sukuna’s eyes are firm in annoyance, the vein in his forehead pulsing.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, spinning on his heel. “Is there a problem, maam?” His voice dribbles sarcasm, and you feel your heart rate pick up from anxiety.

When you turn to face the old woman, her face is twisted in judgement, wrinkles furrowed deeper than natural as she glares past Sukuna and burrows her sights onto you. A chill shrills down your spine as her cold gaze fixes on you.

“Babies having babies,” she snarls cruelly, and you see Sukuna’s knuckles lighten from the force of gripping the handles. “You couldn’t keep it in your pants, and you couldn’t close your legs, hmm? Reproducing when you shouldn’t be. You ought to be embarrassed.”

You cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but when you look up at sukuna again, his grin is curled devilishly. You sigh, “sukuna, come on-“

“No,” he hisses. “I want to hear what the crypt keeper’s gotta say. One foot in the grave, one on a fucking oil spill and you’re wasting your breath spilling bullshit? You oughta be embarrassed.”

She clutches her chest in offense, “I can’t stand you youths these days, wasting your life on each other, disappointing your parents. Why they’d ever approve of you keeping that sin in the carriage is ridiculous.”

You’re quick to grab Sukuna’s collar and keep him from launching at the lady. He’s not happy about being stopped, he’s practically frothing at the mouth in rage, but at your grip, he stands down.

His mouth however, does not.

“I’m offended people like you even get to breathe my air,” he snarls, and you try to ignore the look the old lady gives you- she looks almost prideful to be getting such a reaction. “That child is not sin, that’s my fucking little brother- and even if it was, if you looked at him and the first thing you thought of was my girlfriend and I smashing, you need to tell your fucking hospice nurse, you pervert.”

“Sukuna-“

“It’s not my fault nor concern that your husband died from an asthma attack your dusty old pussy gave him, but if you ask me, he dodged a fucking bullet because holy fuck if I had to spend my days waiting for you to die first, I’d pull the plug myself.”

“Sukuna!”

“You think you get to sit here and judge my girlfriend, my self, my fucking brother without consequence, you are sadly mistaken. And I sincerely hope that, with the bottom of my soul, that when your decrepit heart finally decides to stop and bless the world by taking your life, no one bats an eye. If this is how you treat strangers with a child, I would love to see how you treat your loved ones. Sit on it and fucking twist, you old bitch.” Then, he flashes her a smile, “have the day you fucking deserve, you twat.”

The woman stares at him, eyes wide and jaw agape. You also, stare at him with wide eyes and an agape jaw, and it isn’t until he wraps his arm around your waist and starts to push the carriage again, that you follow.

“Sukuna,” you say, voice shaky. “Why…?”

“Because no one gets to look at my fucking family in any way other than damn respect,” he growls, fingers digging into your hip from anger. “No one.”

“No, I mean…” you swallow thickly. “Why do people feel the need to be so cruel?”

“The world is cruel,” he says flatly. Then, he sighs and shakes his head, “but I have no issue in putting terrible people in their place. Especially for yuuji. Especially for you.”

You smile softly and lay your hand on his, lacing your fingers with his as they rest on your hip, “we’re lucky to have you then, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, “it’s about time you appreciate it.”

[cl6teen]

old habits (die hard) ❀ cl16

in which charles charles has a knack for fucking things up, and you have a talent for slowly letting him back in

find part one here.

contains: social media au, ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader, angsty charles and yn living her best life, toxic relationships maybe, mentions of new partners, charles is a confusing man, charles is a jealous asshole

note: i don’t think this is the final part lmao it’s kinda left of a cliff (if u saw me repost no u didn’t)

your phone 📞

charlie

hey

i miss you

a lot

read, 11:23 pm.

charlie

please don’t be like that y/n

i’m serious

you

charles you literally have a girlfriend

charlie

she’s not my girlfriend

you

do you think i’m stupid? like actually

charlie

no

but she really isn’t, we’re just talking

and hanging out i guess

you

oh my god

charlie

love, you know i miss you

you

yes, because finding another girl right after saying you only want to focus on racing sends me such a great message

you’re confusing as hell

charlie

i know, i really messed up.

i shouldn’t have broken up with you in the first place

but the season was getting so intense and i really want this championship, i thought it would be better for us to put it on pause to save us both the trouble

you

so what’s so different about her that makes her an exception?

charles

alex is easy for me

you

so i’m difficult?

charles

that’s not what i mean

you

no it is what you mean

i’m difficult for showing up to your races and being there when you need me

or when i’m there for you when you dnf? or when ferrari fucks up your strategy?

i was willing to stay friends with you after i did all that and you still broke up with me because i had hopes we would make it work and get back together

charlie

i do want to get back together

you

no you don’t

you moved on so quickly like i was nothing

charlie

you also got with someone too

you

because i didn’t want to look like an idiot seeing all the news after telling my friends i had hope

charlie

yeah but posting him in your bed??

you

so you’re just saying all of this because of that guy i posted?

wtf is your deal charles

fuck you

❀ instagram ❀

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, alexalbon, and 70,331others

yourinstagram larger than life (in madrid)

view all comments

lilymhe oh my god

lilymhe you scandalous girl

yourinstagram oops?

landonorris he better watch his hands

yourinstagram he said “fuck off”

landonorris i’ll punch him in his face

carlossainz55 mariposa 🦋

yourinstagram 🥺

user are these two dating???

4zaferrari no they’re just friends, this is someone else

kikagomes sexy sexy pair 💋

yourinstagram you’re sexier bebe

pierregasly get away from my girlfriend

yourinstagram get off my page maybe?

alexalbon show me the man

yourinstagram no you’ll just steal him

user loved watching your vlog the other day

liked by yourinstagram

user seeing yn happy is so great but i can’t be the only one missing her and charles right??

user where are you going next omg!!

yourinstagram no idea!!

lando.jpg updated their story 1 hour ago

seen by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1 million others

yourinstagram replied to this story: i did not give permission for you to post this young man!

❀ twitter ❀

your phone 📞

charlie

you put him in your vlog? and you’re still posting him?

are you dating

y/n

are we seriously doing this right now

why are you stalking me

charlie

i’m not stalking you, i just care

fuck just answer the question please

y/n

i’m barely posting him, his face wasn’t in it

and no, we’re just seeing each other right now. yk summer flings i guess

charlie

you know it hurts me to see this y/n, please love

y/n

i don’t care, we’re not together anymore

you texting me is hurting everyone, your “friend” included

charlie

she knows we’re not dating

please just come back to monaco y/n

we can talk face to face

can i call you right now?

you

i’m with carlos and lando

charlie

are you also with that guy

you

yeah

charlie

will you finally tell me who he is?

you

does it really matter?

let’s just talk when i’m back in monaco please

and let me enjoy my vacation in peace

charlie

when are you back?

you

i’ll let you know

charlie

okay

i love you

you

yeah

love you too

❀ instagram ❀

yourinstagram updated their story 10 mins ago

❀ twitter ❀

tags: @1655clean @i-wish-this-was-me @sunny44 @leclercdream

[tteokdoroki]

THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending  - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel?  TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back. 

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work. 

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him. 

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much. 

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think. 

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together. 

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed. 

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window. 

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick. 

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. 

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace. 

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious. 

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami. 

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time. 

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you. 

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute. 

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk. 

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you. 

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?” 

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol. 

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.”  the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.” 

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him. 

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.” 

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“ 

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.” 

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.” 

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper. 

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?” 

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!” 

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

 “then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.” 

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?” 

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.” 

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…” 

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin. 

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles. 

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe. 

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo,  kids,”  he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy. 

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss. 

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss. 

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami. 

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,” 

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event. 

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office. 

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia. 

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper. 

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time. 

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you —  happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents. 

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.  

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home. 

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to. 

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift. 

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you. 

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him? 

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.” 

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.” 

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves  friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.” 

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.” 

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle. 

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly —  his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions. 

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays. 

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all. 

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.” 

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice. 

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as  just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?” 

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?” 

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.” 

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.” 

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?” 

“pardon?” 

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up. 

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.” 

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?” 

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady. 

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart. 

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.” 

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“ 

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.” 

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve. 

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple. 

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[angelwonie]

X + Y = YOU AND I || jeon wonwoo

PAIRING: academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 8.6k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, rivals to lovers, college au

SUMMARY: you wish jeon wonwoo would sometimes act like an insufferable prick instead of the perfect guy, because then you wouldn't have to feel your head spinning each time he looks at you.

WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, fingering, use of petnames (baby, good girl), praise, some degradation, sex in an empty classroom] wonwoo is so in love

Class discussions where both Wonwoo and you are involved never end well. 

Partly, it’s because none of you possess the ability of backing down from a fight, but mostly it’s because of Wonwoo’s annoying tendencies of having read all the books in the world, which allows him to criticize every word that comes out of your mouth. 

Which again leaves you with no choice but to get angry and argue even more vividly — though Soonyoung claims that’s just your own stubbornness making matters worse. 

He doesn’t get it, though. The desire to beat Wonwoo at his own game each time he opens his mouth. It’s something you can’t entirely explain, but it keeps you grounded, and so you don’t question it too much. The adrenaline that comes along with it is enough for you. 

And that’s exactly what keeps you going today — Wonwoo’s annoying takes on social anthropology.

“I just don’t think cultural differences are the root of conflicts.”

He says this and shrugs, eyes subconsciously drifting to the side to look at you. As expected, you’re already raising your hand to comment on his statement and he has to fight the urge to smile. Despite coming in tired, eyes drooping, you’re eager to partake in a discussion with him. Always. It’s a little too reassuring to think about, so he stops, and instead focuses on what you’re saying. 

“That’s a baseless claim to make,” you scoff, and again, he feels his lip twitch, almost forming a smile. “Of course they are. No differences means nothing to fight about.”

“Yes, in theory,” he says, and his eyes crinkle with the smile he offers you. A smile you can’t seem to tell if is cocky or genuine. “But cultural differences aren't everything. If we don’t have culture, people will still form opinions. And those opinions will still become the roots of conflicts.”

With those words, he crosses his arms over his chest, his elbow bumping into you. 

You’re not sure who came up with the idea of the two of you sitting together in the classroom, but moments like these make you want to find that person and rip their hair out. Because in what universe should you have to argue with Jeon Wonwoo while his shoulder is literally touching yours? 

It’s stupid, unethical, and every other derogatory term you can come up with, but most of all, it’s making it hard to focus. Obviously, it’s not about him, it’s about the closeness itself. You think. Probably. 

You lean a bit to your left so you can actually think of a response, but end up sighing and asking a question instead. 

“So you’re saying conflicts are inevitable?”

He tongues his cheek – a sign that he’s in deep thought – and bumps his elbow into you again. An accident, probably, but it catches your attention nevertheless. 

“I’m saying disagreements become conflicts because we can’t handle our emotions. It’s not differences that are the problem, it’s our way of handling them.”

And there it is — that twinkle in his eyes that signalizes he knows he’s won. You know it, too, from the way he leans back into his chair and your words die down in your throat and the professor nods his head approvingly. Still, you wish he wouldn’t be so fucking happy about it.

“Asshole,” you mumble only loud enough for him to hear as you sink back into the chair. 

He chuckles and you feel your insides turn. God, he’s annoying. Super annoying. 

Especially when he leans a bit to your side of the desk, face a lot closer to yours than it needs to be when he whispers, “Good job.” 

You glare at his soft expression, your own face heating up in something resembling embarrassment. 

“No need to gloat about your success, dickhead.”

“I’m not gloating,” he frowns, the smile slowly fading from his face.

“Sure you aren’t. You’re just kindly reminding me that you’re better than me.”

“That’s not what– That’s not true.”

His voice falters, and he leans back in his chair and taps his pen against the desk. You scoff at him, but it’s nowhere as threatening as you’d like it to be — thrown off by the quiver in his tone. 

“It is true,” you whisper, more to yourself, and avert your gaze from him. 

The professor picks up where he left off, and you let your thoughts scatter and eyes drift closed. It’s been a long day, you think. Thankfully, the professor’s got you and Wonwoo placed in the back, and so he doesn’t notice it when you manage to fall asleep in your chair, head falling to the side. 

Wonwoo notices, though. Your cheek squished against your shoulder, hair in your face. It’s not the first time you’ve fallen asleep in class, and he should probably start scolding you for it, but seeing your under eye bags and hearing your tired voice makes something turn unpleasantly in his stomach. And so he lets you sleep. 

(It’s all because of his perceptiveness.

You know about this trait of his, and it’s awful. How he hands you a pen when you’ve forgotten your own without you having to ask for it. How he knows when to shut up during an argument, because your face tells him he’s won. How he never feels the need to embarrass you, or anyone, for that matter.

He’s a good person in and out, and you hate him for it.) 

It’s not before the class is nearing its end that Wonwoo decides to wake you. 

“Y/N,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and then a deep voice hits your ears. Wonwoo’s voice, you realize instantly, and then criticize your heart for jumping at the thought. “You might wanna wake up for this.”

“Huh?” 

Wonwoo’s smiling at you softly, and you sit up straight, confused. At least until you see your professor clutching his phone against his ear, muttering aggressively.

“His wife called,” Wonwoo explains in a hushed tone, leaning towards you so you hear him better. “I feel kinda bad for the guy. She doesn’t seem to like him very much.”

You rub your eyes and yawn, then realize Wonwoo is sitting right there, and clear your throat. 

“Maybe he’s an asshole.”

“Maybe,” he turns to look at you. “Girls like assholes, though, don’t they? 

Your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily. You’re not sure whether it’s from the question or from the way he’s looking at you – like he’s already got you all figured out – but it’s making you nervous. All of it, him. And now that you’re discussing a topic you’re not certain about, it shows. 

You chuckle nervously, “Where’d you get that from?”

“You, mostly.”

“Excuse me?”

He offers you a smile, one that you subconsciously accept by feeling your insides turn to mush. This has got to be the longest you’ve spoken to him without mutual friends around, and without arguing. Truthfully, you don’t hate it. You’d never have thought that this would be the topic of your first ever civil conversation, though. 

“Minghao? Seungkwan? Your type’s pretty obvious.”

“Do you spy on me or something?” you ask, a little baffled he knows the names of your previous boyfriends. You weren’t hiding it or anything, but Wonwoo’s never shown much interest in you outside of class. “Plus, that was months ago.” 

He fixes his glasses and tilts his head to the side.

“Yeah? And what type of guys do you like now?”

You open your mouth to answer, but the words die down in your throat. Not assholes, you could say. He’s sparked your curiosity, though — what type of guys do you like now? Because you know for a fact that you’re done with assholes, which is why you’ve been trying your hardest to classify Wonwoo as one up until now. 

“I–”

You’re saved from answering his question by your professor, who’s successfully hung up on his wife and is now announcing that class is over. 

A sigh of relief escapes past your lips — another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo, but he doesn’t push. He simply gathers his stuff, his pen that you borrowed included, and slings his bag over his shoulder. You smile at him, softly, a little hesitantly, because it feels right to do so.

His glasses rest at the tip of his nose as he stands up and says, “See you around, Y/N.”

Then, he walks off and you no longer fight the smile that makes its way to your face. 

—

“Okay, so I think we all know why this meeting is being held.”

This is the first thing Soonyoung says as he sits down by the round table in the cafeteria, latte almost spilling out of his cup. You and Minjeong perch up in curiosity, and she puts her phone away in favor of commenting Soonyoung’s poor word choices. 

“Meeting? It’s our lunch break, dude.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at Minjeong who snickers. “This lunch break is being held because–”

“–Because we need to eat?” you raise a brow. 

“Y/N, you are literally in no position to act all smart right now. It’s you that we need to talk about.”

“Me?”

You look to Minjeong, but she only shrugs, meaning that this is a Soonyoung thing. You try racking your brain to find what the hell he might want to discuss, but nothing comes to you. Not even when Soonyoung offers you one of his signature smirks that signalize he’s up to no good. 

“You, and hot nerd Jeon Wonwoo.”

Your mouth falls open in genuine shock. “Wonwoo?”

“Did you just call him ‘hot nerd’?” Minjeong slaps her hand over her mouth as she laughs, but stops when she sees you glaring at her. “Damn, okay, someone’s defensive.”

“Yes, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung leans over the table, hands together on the table like some sort of Hollywood detective. “What’s the deal with you and him?”

“What deal?” you look to the side for some help, but all Minjeong offers you is a smirk. She’s enjoying this a little too much for your liking. “Why are you looking at me like that? There’s no deal. We don’t get along, that’s all.”

“You sure looked like you got along yesterday,” Soonyoung giggles like a little schoolgirl, and you feel your face heating up. Of course he noticed, even though you barely talked with Wonwoo for three minutes. “Also, have you seen how he looks at you?”

“Like he wants to kill me?”

“Like he wants to kiss you. You’re mistaking passion for hate, babe. Or maybe you’re just pretending, because there’s no way you’re not seeing how cute you are together.”

“Me and Wonwoo?” you ask again, incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way.”

“You have to admit, he’s pretty hot,” Minjeong cuts in. “Plus, you guys have, like, undeniable chemistry.”

“The only chemistry me and him share is the class. Which already sucks enough.”

“You know what they say, denial is a river in egypt.” 

“Nobody says that, Minjeong,” you glare at her, deciding that it’s better to get out of here before you start doubting yourself. “Anyway, I gotta go to class, so get those Wonwoo delusions out of your heads, okay? Because that’s what this is — delusion.”

“Funny you had to clarify that.”

“Just because you’re insufferable,” you send them a painfully fake smile and grab your things so you can walk away, almost missing the words Soonyoung mutters under his breath. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

—

Usually, you can’t be found in the university’s backyard ripping your hair, but usually, you also don’t fail your chemistry exams. 

You might be acting a tad bit dramatic, running out of class and sitting down on the grass with your back pressed against the stone cold wall to cool off, but that’s something to worry about later. Right now you’re just focused on feeling sorry for yourself. Which you are. To a very high degree. 

“Are you okay?”

You jump at the sudden intrusion to your self-wallowing, turning around only to be met with a familiar face. His glasses are high up on his nose and his hair is neat, smile lines nowhere to be seen.

“Wonwoo?” you ask, a bit embarrassed that he’s seeing you in this state, especially when he looks so put together. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I read here every free period,” he says, frowning. “It’s you that should be in class right now.”

“Do you have my schedule memorized or something?” you look at him accusingly, pulling your legs closer to your chest for comfort. “Anyway, I’m just sitting here.”

Wonwoo’s silent for a moment, pondering on what to do, and then he takes a step in your direction. You don’t run away or protest, so he takes another one and another one until he’s close enough to sink down on the grass next to you. 

“You look more like you’re drowning in sadness.”

“Yeah, well, I failed an exam, so,” you say and hand him the paper your hands gripped just a moment ago — your test with every mistake highlighted in red. The whole sheet might’ve just been red at this point, you think. 

He examines it, brows furrowed, then hands it back. “Chemistry? I thought you were good at that, though.”

Your heart falters in embarrassment.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. That’s why I’m fucking sad.”

You don’t mean for it to sound so angry, but it comes out harsh and bitter. It’s nothing like Wonwoo’s used to hearing you speak. And what comes after shocks him even more — the tears that well up in your eyes and then fall, he can see them even as you turn away from him, perhaps in fear of judgement. 

“Wait,” he says, a little dumbfounded. “Are you crying?”

It’s a stupid question, but his tone isn’t judging. Still, it doesn't ease anything — you feel like you’re about to explode. And what’s worse is that he’s here, Jeon Wonwoo, of all people, watching you cry over something so miniscule that he probably can’t even relate to. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much that he’s seeing you in this state, but it does, it really does bother you, so much you feel like you might die. 

“Yes, I’m crying, Wonwoo,” you say, wiping your cheeks to your best ability. “Jesus christ. I did badly on a test, so I already feel like shit, and then you always have to come up to me with those stupid comments of yours.”

He blinks in surprise from behind his glasses, and even through your bitterness, you think to yourself that he looks cute like that — confused, for the very first time. At least it’s the very first time you are seeing him like this. But, to be fair, this is his very first time seeing you like this, too. 

“I thought you liked it when I'm mean to you, though,” he says finally, and you look at him in disbelief.

“Wonwoo, are you seriously just here to imply I have a degradation kink?” 

He remains silent for a minute, hesitating.

“Great.” 

You laugh through the tears that have now stopped falling, and Wonwoo exhales in something that resembles relief. His gaze is still set on you, unrelenting, like he’s still trying to put together the puzzle. Does he want to leave? 

A part of you hopes he won’t. Because despite that it’s a bit embarrassing, you could use someone to talk to right now. Even if it’s just so you can get your frustration out somehow. 

“What I’m trying to say is,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “I didn't mean it like that. I never do.”

You meet his gaze – soft eyes that remain otherwise unreadable – and let out a breathy chuckle. 

“Yeah, whatever.”

You kick one of the stones in front of you, and watch it bounce a couple of times before it settles a little further away. Wonwoo doesn’t leave, even though you’re giving no signs of continuing the conversation. He just sits there, shoulder a centimeter or two from yours, and listens to both your breaths. Both uneven — his is nervous, while yours is upset. 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says finally, catching you off guard just enough for you to turn in his direction again. “If I ever cross the line, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He bites his lip awkwardly as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach. It’s silent for a while, the back of your throat burning — threatening that you might start crying again if you say something now. 

He pushes his glasses further up his nose, and that’s when you decide to take the leap. Leap meaning that you lean forward to engulf him in a hug, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. 

It catches him off guard, you can tell. His muscles tense, breath caught up in his throat and your own heart beats so fast you think you might die. But it feels nice, hugging him. And it feels even nicer when he wraps his arms around you, too, albeit hesitantly. 

You stay like that, bathing in his scent – peach and jasmine with a hint of something you can’t quite identify – and somehow, you feel at peace. The test is still at the back of your head, obviously, bugging you, but it’s faint compared to Wonwoo and his hand that begins to slowly stroke your hair. 

“Thank you.”

The words are whispered into the crook of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 

They’re so quiet he barely hears them, might’ve mistaken them for a hiccup hadn’t he paid complete attention, but he is. He is paying attention. To how your muscles loosen up in his arms and there are no longer tears soaking through his shirt; how his own heart beats a little faster than usual; how he’s so painfully aware of the fact that talking to you only makes him like you more.

More meaning that he’s afraid he might be advancing from the useless crush he’d developed watching you argue with him during class. Advancing into uncharted territory that he’s never even intended exploring. Though he supposes he sabotaged himself by approaching you today. 

“It’s nothing.”

But it’s a lie. It is something — the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth spreading across Wonwoo’s chest. Whatever you want to regard it as, it is something. 

And that something settles in the very depths of your mind and his mind alike. 

—

When Soonyoung announces that he’s bringing Wonwoo to come study with you and Minjeong in the library, your first instinct is to tell him you’re not coming. 

Obviously, you’re embarrassed. And scared. And a million other things you can’t even begin to describe with words. He saw you crying, after all. Jeon Wonwoo, top of the class, saw you crying over a bad grade. It really doesn’t get much worse than that. 

Still, you go. Mostly because you know staying at the dorm would spark questions from your nosy friends, but also because you don’t want Wonwoo thinking you’re avoiding him. Or else he’s going to think you care — which, essentially, you do. But he doesn’t have to know that. 

“Do you think Wonwoo will laugh at me if I get the questions wrong?” Minjeong asks as you stand outside the door to the library, her hand on the handle.

“No,” you say. “He’s not like that.”

She opens the door, and you walk inside, met with the smell of books. Soonyoung and Wonwoo are sitting by the chess boards, talking, and you feel something turn in your stomach. Is it too late to leave now? Judging by Minjeong’s worried face, she isn’t so keen on being here either. Maybe you could both just go home.

Yet when she bites her lip and asks, “Are you sure?”, you can’t bring yourself to lie just so you won’t have to face him.

“Yeah. You should ask him to teach you if you don’t understand something, you know. Better to feel a little embarrassed than to fail an exam.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Just as she says this, Soonyoung catches your gaze and waves eagerly, urging you and Minjeong to come closer. He whispers something to Wonwoo, and he, too, turns to smile in your direction.

“Guess there’s no backing out now,” Minjeong giggles and you nod your head. There really isn’t. 

The two of you make your way to the table where the boys are sitting and pick your chairs. Minjeong’s quick to sit next to Soonyoung, so you’re left with no other option but to plop down on the chair closest to Wonwoo. Normally, that would’ve only mildly annoyed you, but now, three days after he saw you bawling your eyes out, you can feel your heartbeat speed up vastly.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says and you almost jump. You’re not sure why, but you hadn’t expected him to speak to you first. 

“Hi,” you reply and try smiling at him. Thankfully, he smiles, too. “What are you guys studying?”

“Chemistry,” he says, and upon seeing you wince, he’s quick to add, “‘Cause Soonyoung’s struggling with it. He asked me to teach him.”

You have to bite back a smile at his worried tone. “Ah, I see.”

He fixes his glasses, and clears his throat.

“It’s a really tricky subject, though, so I understand why you– uh, he, finds it troublesome.”

“Right,” you nod your head with a giggle, and you can almost feel Soonyoung’s stare burning into your side. It’s fine, though, because now, Wonwoo looks the slightest bit more relaxed. 

You pull out your notebooks and textbook along with a coffee you’d made earlier, and when Wonwoo says your notes look pretty, you can’t help but grin. You kind of wish he weren’t so nice to you, but it doesn’t make you feel awkward, so you suppose you don’t have much room to complain. 

It’s probably just reality catching up to you that’s making you nervous — the fact that he’s not so argumentative outside of class, and that you definitely felt something pull at the very bottom of your heart that day you failed the exam. That, and how the feeling isn’t giving any signs of leaving soon.

You let those thoughts wander as you start making notes, and soon enough, even Soonyoung goes quiet, occupied by his own stuff. It stays like that for a while, and at some point, Wonwoo’s knee bumps into yours. Warmth spreads all across you and you look at him. 

“Sorry,” he whispers apologetically, retracting his leg, and the warmth subsides. In return you send him a smile in which you hope he can’t glimpse your slight – and unsettling – disappointment. 

“It’s okay.”

And then it’s silent again, your body painfully aware of the fact that if you lean your leg a bit to the right you’ll touch Wonwoo. It’s not like you want to touch him, at least you don’t think you do, but the awareness is slightly nerve-wracking for some unknown reason. Everything about him is.  

“Wonwoo,” Minjeong says, breaking the silence, making both his and your heads shoot up to look at her. “Y/N told me you could help me if I asked, so… I was wondering if you could explain biomolecules to me.”

“Of course.”

A quick smile flashes in your direction and then he’s leaning over the table to help Minjeong. His fingers follow the illustrations in her textbook and he starts talking — something about structure, you think. You listen intently, and it makes sense even though you’ve barely started the chapter, but you can’t bring yourself to take notes of what he’s saying. Can’t bring yourself to take your eyes off of him.

You wonder silently if he always was this handsome. You try to think of the times you spoke to him in class before, but it’s hard to recall his face in any other form than what your eyes meet now — focused gaze, lips moving to the rhythm of his voice. His glasses are slowly sliding down his nose, and you feel an immeasurable urge to push them up, but he beats you to it. 

“Basically, they’re essential for cell division to happen,” he says, and you lean forward to look at the picture he’s pointing to.

Your shoulder bumps into his and he turns to the side. You notice, but don’t react in fear that you’ll just end up giggling like a schoolgirl. Instead, you pretend to read some of the text in the book. 

Wonwoo picks up where he left off, voice a little hoarser than before, but you don’t move. Neither does he.

“Can you say that again?” you ask after he says something you don’t understand. 

He repeats with his head turned in your direction, and your eyes drift down to his lips. You don’t want them to, it just happens, your stomach tying into a tight knot. You’re almost entirely sure nobody is supposed to look this hot while talking about biomolecules. Or was it morphogenesis? You honestly don’t know. 

You don’t know why you feel like this with him of all people. Truly, there could be a lot of factors playing into it. The fact that he’s a smooth talker; the fact that he’s both intelligent and knowledgeable; the fact that you’ve grown to know him — what makes his blood boil and what makes him chuckle; the fact that he’s a constant in a sea of variables. 

Maybe that last point especially. That even when everything else goes to hell, the moment you step into social anthropology class, he’s always there. Always willing to entertain you with, albeit sometimes pointless, banter. 

You don’t even know what this is, though. Feeling your head spin when you look at him, having mini heart attacks when he says your name — are these the signs of you going insane? It could very well be that, you think. Insanity feels like the right word to explain your state right now. 

“Y/N,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You listening?”

Your eyes drift back to his own, and you swear you see a glimpse of amusement playing in his gaze when you mumble a quiet “Yeah.”

Suddenly very aware of Soonyoung and Minjeong’s presence, as well as Wonwoo’s burning stare, you stand up, dusting off your clothes.

“I just need some fresh air,” you offer as an explanation. 

“Mind if I join?”

You look at Wonwoo in disbelief as he asks the question. What the fuck? You don’t mind – at least in the sense that implies you don’t like his company – but it’s the same issue again; he makes you nervous. Goodbye to going for a relaxing walk, you suppose. And goodbye to whatever left there is of your sanity. 

After what seems like hours of overthinking, you decide to get your shit together and send him a smile paired with a nod. Minjeong raises a brow in your direction, but doesn’t inquire further and internally you thank her for that. You’re not sure what you would’ve told her if she asked. 

You and Wonwoo leave the library together, shoulders close together just like when you were sitting, and you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“Everything okay?” he asks as you leave the building. “You seem a little dazed.”

The air is still cold, though winter is nearing its end and spring is slipping through the cracks. You pull your jacket closer to your body in hopes of both warming yourself up and slowing down your heartbeat, but it only fulfills one of those wishes, leaving you to deal with the latter yourself. 

“I’m alright,” you respond with a soft smile. “Thank you for helping Minjeong, by the way. You’re a great teacher.”

Wonwoo’s smile lines shyly make an appearance. “Thanks. I’ve been thinking about becoming a real one, actually.”

You stop walking and turn your head in disbelief. Somehow, you didn’t expect that answer. Wonwoo was always a diligent student, but now that you come to think of it, he never really talked about his plans for the future, or what he wanted to do with his degree in chemical engineering. 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” his cheeks redden ever so slightly. “Teaching chemistry honestly doesn’t sound that bad.”

You take a moment to think it through — him, in a suit and those glasses that fall down his nose, teaching kids about biomolecules. The idea is foreign, and yet, it fits just right. 

You nudge him with your shoulder. “Professor Jeon, huh? It would suit you.”

He lets out a snort of laughter that sounds nothing like the small chuckles you’d hear from him during class. But it sounds nice, this loud laughter and you bathe in it for as long as it lasts. You’re starting to enjoy this whole ‘being kind to each other’ thing. Suits you better than yelling about something stupid in class. It suits him better, too. 

Content with everything, you begin walking again and he follows suit. The grass is a little wet from yesterday’s rain and outgrown as it is, it tickles your ankles. It might’ve been mildly annoying if you weren’t so stupidly happy for whatever reason.  

Whatever reason being Wonwoo, of course. You might be bad at chemistry, but you like to think you’re not dumb — at least not in an oblivious way. It’s become quite obvious, you think, that you like him. 

The thought partly makes you want to kick your feet in the air and partly, it makes you want to rip your hair out. You like Wonwoo. It’s something so unexpected it makes you feel very bare as you stand there on the grass outside of your university, with your cold hands buried in the pockets of your jacket and Wonwoo’s eyes glimmering in the faint sunlight. 

You like him. God, it feels weird to admit. 

“About that day…” Wonwoo’s voice brings you back to reality, and you take a second to register what he’s saying.

“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” you ask. 

“No, no, it’s not that,” he looks away and sighs softly, only to look directly at you the next second. “I just wanted to make sure you remember that one mistake doesn’t make you a failure. I should’ve said it earlier, but that day I was a bit… taken aback, I suppose. Not by the crying, obviously, but by the whole situation. And you.” 

“Me,” you repeat, tasting the word on your tongue. Your heart starts beating a little faster, despite your best efforts at staying calm. He’s just talking after all; it’s not like this is some sort of love confession.

“Not in a bad way. Just in a new way,” he’s quick to assure you and you feel your heart swell in your chest. 

“New. You make it sound so pretty.”

You laugh a bit, looking down on your hands. It. Does he even know what you mean? Does he know you’re talking about the fact that you’re slowly but surely starting to fall in love with him? Or is he just talking about seeing you vulnerable the other day? 

“What would you call it?” he asks and you can’t stop your gaze from drifting back to him.

“I don’t know, confusing? And kind of insane.”

You swear his eyes drop to your lips for a mere second at that. He doesn’t say anything, just walks by you in silence, and it drives you crazy. You wish he’d say something – anything – just so you’d know if you’re even on the same page, but you don’t rush him. 

Finally, he smiles at you. 

“If insanity is losing control, then yes, I suppose I’m going insane. But it doesn’t feel all that insane to me.”

His eyes crinkle, soft streaks of sun painted across his face and you almost sigh. In delight, relief, or maybe fear, you’re not sure, but it’s those words, you think, that will linger. Those are the types of words to never abandon your mind, you’re sure of it. 

“Did you rehearse this in front of the mirror or something?” you scoff at him, heart heavy in your chest. 

He only laughs, and the sound stays in the air for a long time after you’ve left. 

—

To say you were shocked to see Jeon Wonwoo sitting outside of his dorm with his head in his hands would be a major understatement. 

You had grown closer to him in the past weeks — walking shoulder to shoulder around campus; him helping you with your homework — it all would’ve seemed unlikely had someone proposed the idea to you a month prior, but now, you had grown to truly enjoy his company. And he enjoyed yours, too. 

In some ways, it stayed normal. 

Comments and half-mean, half-endearing remarks remained untouched; what didn’t was your heart. It seems to be working against you at all times, beating too quickly when Wonwoo unexpectedly smiled in your direction, and dropping down to your stomach in fear whenever you saw him tippling over in emotion, only for the feeling to fade to the sound of his laugh.

This time, though, it doesn’t fade, only intensifies as you hear him curse under his breath. 

“Wonwoo?” you try, and his shoulders tense ever so slightly. 

You watch as he sighs, rubbing his eyes, then sits up straight, back against the wall. He doesn’t respond, even as his eyes, frail as ever, look into yours. They’re a bit darker than usual, and his lashes flutter as he blinks up at you. 

There’s no one in the hallway, as if this part of the school emptied just to grant you a moment of privacy; a deciding moment, something in your stomach tells you. 

“What’s happened?” you ask softly, quietly, unsure of what else to do with this obviously unhappy Jeon Wonwoo that’s sitting on the ground in front of you. 

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles in response, leaning on his arms to stand up. “Just some school stuff.”

The corners of his mouth lift in a small smile, but you call his bullshit. You don’t necessarily doubt the genuinity of his smile, but the way he said it makes you think there is something that happened. 

Taking a step in his direction, you nudge him with your elbow. 

“What, the golden boy failed a test for the first time in his life?”

His eyes change at that — soft crinkles appearing at the very edges of them. His shoulders relax, too, and though it’s barely visible, you see it clearly. The air feels a lot lighter when he tongues his cheek and nudges you back. 

“You sure run your mouth a lot, Y/N,” he grins and you feel butterflies flapping around in the very pits of your stomach. Then the smile fades to be replaced with a faux scolding look as he says, “I suggest you stop.” 

You move to stand right in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. He’s taller, and you have to tilt your chin to look him right in the eyes as you giggle with a hint of playfulness in your gaze. 

“Or what?”

He sees the smile playing on your face, the giddiness in your tone, and his heart bangs loudly against his chest. You look gorgeous today — well, that’s nothing new but it never ceases to amaze him how you can look prettier for each day that goes by.

Is this it? Is this when he’s supposed to make a move, like Soonyoung told him to? What does even ‘make a move’ mean, exactly? 

He supposes it varies — just like the value of variables in the equations he solves so often. 

Then how come he can’t solve this one?

You’re still standing there, looking at him without a care in the world, and he thinks that he’d never forgive himself if he screwed this up. At the same time, it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to run away from him, and so perhaps making a move doesn’t sound so stupid right now. 

“Or,” he starts, and lets his eyes glide down to your lips for a moment to test the waters. You don’t scream in fear, and he takes it as a good sign. “I’m gonna have to make you.”

You giggle. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that, big boy?” 

He feels his stomach turning upside down, squeezed by some invisible force and he has to remind himself to breathe. Is he really going through with this? Don’t start something you can’t end, Soonyoung would probably tell him. For once listening to his advice seems reasonable. 

“Like this.”

And before he can even think of backing out, he brings the palms of his hands to cup your face and leans down, placing his lips against yours. 

Taken aback, you let out a startled noise, eyes growing wide. He hesitates upon seeing your reaction, about to pull away when you finally kiss him back, tongue swiping over his lower lip ever so slightly. 

A groan. Then, he’s bringing his hand to the back of your head and pulling you towards him, kissing you until your head starts to spin, and kissing you through that, too. 

Your arms hold onto his shoulders for support, cheek leaning into his touch. Your noses touch clumsily; teeth clash when you open your mouth to let him explore it. Still, it feels like heaven and you can’t bring yourself to pull away for a breath. 

Wonwoo, though, the more sensible one of you two, pulls back after a while, a smile on his lips and breath ragged.  

You look at him — waiting for him to pick up where he left off, but he doesn’t move.

“That’s it?” you ask, and for a brief moment, all color drains from Wonwoo’s face. Did you not like it? Did he do something wrong?

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just going to leave me hanging like that?”

Your lip pulled between your teeth, you look at home expectantly, heart still hammering against your ribs. Truly, it’s not just about wanting more – though that plays a part in it, too – it’s also about whether this was a one-time-thing.

“Was it not enough for you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side after he’s calmed his racing heart. 

“Considering I’ve been waiting for this, like, a month,” you say. “not really, no.”

He smiles down on you — that same smile that makes you weak in the knees, and you know there’s no turning back now. Not that there ever was. 

“I think you’re a bit greedy,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting for half a year, and yet, I still have some self control left.”

“I never had any in the first place.”

And with that, you pull him close for another kiss. 

He doesn’t protest, opening his mouth and sucking on your tongue. His hands move down to your waist this time, pulling your body flush against his. You’ve never experienced being in such close proximity with him, and yet, you don’t feel all that nervous. It all slips away with his soft touches. 

Your hands in his hair — it feels foreign, but he likes that feeling, gets drunk on it. But it’s some kind of reversed intoxication; he doesn’t feel faint; if anything, he’s feeling more sober than ever before as he bathes in your taste, your scent, you. This must be what love feels like, he thinks. This must be it, or else he’s certain he’ll never know love. If this isn’t it, he doesn’t want to know love. 

He hopes you’re at least feeling a fraction of what he’s feeling as he pushes you gently against the wall, hands roaming your body. You do the same, holding onto him like he’s your lifeline, tugging at the strands of hair available to you. 

So caught up in this feeling of bliss, you don’t even notice how you’re not alone with Wonwoo anymore until you hear laughter from a group of bypassing students. 

“Get a room,” someone says and you pull away from Wonwoo immediately, face hot with embarrassment.

He doesn’t appear shaken, though — rather, you glimpse the shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he urges the students to leave. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s smiling about, his fingers close around your wrist and he pulls you along the hallway. He’s all rushed steps until you reach the nearest classroom that turns out to be empty, and he walks inside, dragging you with him. 

Upon closing the door behind him, Wonwoo drags you into his chest. You look up at him, his inquiring gaze that asks for permission, and smile.

“Are you sure?” he asks and your grin turns teasing. 

“Sure about what, Woo?” 

He tongues his cheek, unsure of what to say. You’re just plain teasing him – that much is obvious – so he supposes he can give the same energy back. 

“Sure that you want me to fuck you.”

You’re taken aback, though perhaps you shouldn’t be, considering how you set yourself up for this with your question. Still, your breath catches in your throat and your hand holds onto one of the nearby desks for stability as you face him. Wonwoo looks different now, to some extent; maybe it’s the lighting that gives his eyes a different glow, or maybe it’s how the air has suddenly become swollen with tension. 

Whatever the cause, it excites you to no end, the way he’s looking at you when you take his hand in yours. Like you’re the only thing that matters. 

“Yeah,” you say finally. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

At that, he pulls you impossibly closer. He takes off his glasses in a manner that you in a drunken state would’ve most likely called seductive, and throws them away somewhere you can’t see, too busy kissing him back when his lips crash into yours for the nth time today. He kisses you so hard it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and all thoughts out of your brain. 

Mouth open, you let his tongue explore it and simultaneously, you allow him to walk you further into the classroom, until the back of your thighs hit one of the desks. Standing between your legs, he pushes your shirt up so his fingers can graze the bare skin underneath, and you sigh in content. 

Before you know it, he’s pulling away to peel off your shirt and bra, leaving you bare in front of him.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again.

You smile into the kiss, goosebumps spreading over your skin with the touches of his fingers that glide further up your thigh, until they slip under your skirt. Knuckles running over your soaked panties, he bites your lip and you let out a delighted moan. 

“You’re so wet,” he comments as he slips a finger under your panties, running it through your folds. You can already feel another flood of arousal approaching just because of his words. “Won’t even need to prep you, huh?”

You desperately shake your head no, and he chuckles.

He lays his palm flat against your clit and you squirm until he retracts it. Playfulness in his gaze, he smears your arousal all over your cunt, ignoring your whines. This takes him at least half a minute before he finally – upon hearing you whimper his name in a way that makes his pants a whole lot tighter all of a sudden – gives in and slides one of his fingers into your pussy. 

You throw your head back with a whimper, holding onto his shoulder as he starts pumping it in and out of you, noises caused by the movement filling the air. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe as he adds another one, your cunt tightening around his digits endlessly. 

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which is an immense contrast to how he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl. He plunges his digits in and out of your hole as his thumb circles your clit, until you’re moaning loudly — despite how little time has really passed. 

It’s in utter shock that you watch him retract his hand completely, sucking the arousal from his fingers with a smile. 

“Wha–” is all you manage to say before he flips you over, bending you over the desk. 

You’re painfully aware of how bare you are in front of him — your naked cunt on display, because your skirt doesn’t do much to cover anything at all, and your tits pressed against the wood of the desk. Plus the fact that the locked door won’t do much good if someone is to have class in this room next period. Which would be in about thirty minutes. 

Not that you care. Or, essentially, you do care, but now it doesn’t really matter — besides, you’re certain that Wonwoo would’ve managed to come up with some sort of excuse had you been forced to open the door for some frustrated professor. 

Amidst your thoughts, you almost fail to hear the sound of Wonwoo unclasping his belt. Almost. But when you do hear it, something turns pleasantly in your stomach. 

“You gonna be good for me and stay quiet?” Wonwoo asks and you feel his hands move to hold your hips, cock positioned at your entrance. 

You mumble something in affirmation, something you’re not even sure you can hear yourself, and spread your legs to urge him on. You feel his cock prod at your soaked cunt, run through your folds languidly; again and again, until you’re whining his name in protest. 

He only chuckles at your behavior, and asks, albeit teasingly, “What did you say?”

Gathering your thoughts, you try your best to ignore the way he’s dragging his dick over your pussy, occasionally rubbing over your clit. 

“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Wonwoo.”

Pleased with this response, he finally enters you — cock stretching you open and making you cry out, holding onto the desk for support. He’s big, you realize, tears prodding at your eyes as he bottoms out. 

“Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?” 

You nod and nod, fingers turning white from how you’re gripping the wooden desk once he starts moving — in languid strokes, he manages to turn your moans louder and louder. 

His hands hold onto your hips, pushing them against him so you’re further impaled on his cock with each thrust, and you swear you feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s a good feeling, one you can barely register fully with the way your mind’s gone hazy. 

You hardly notice it when one of his hands lets go of your hips and comes up to your lips, fingers tapping at your chin as a signal to open your mouth. When you do, he slips two digits inside and you suck on them obediently, tightening around his cock. 

Wonwoo smiles.

“Thought I told you to be quiet, baby.”

In all honesty, he loves the nosies you’re making, but he can’t risk someone starting to bang on the door before he’s got you falling apart completely. Besides, the sight of you sucking on his fingers is just as pleasing; just as effective in making his cock twitch in your cunt. 

Your walls suck him in perfectly, the sound of him gliding in and out of your pussy loud in the empty classroom. His thrusts grow gradually harder; the desk starts moving in rhythm with them, and you can’t help letting out moans and whimpers that his digits in your mouth do a poor job of concealing. 

He realizes this, and decides on removing his fingers so they can grab at your hair instead, pulling your back closer to his chest. Your tits bounce with his movements, and he plays with them briefly, groaning as your pussy clamps down on him especially hard at that, but then his hand moves between your legs to tend to your clit. 

He rubs it in circles, granting you an occasional pinch or slap that makes you cry out, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. 

“Feels so good, Wonwoo,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as his fingers abuse your swollen clit. 

“I know, baby.”

Barely coherent, you beg him not to stop, and he wonders whatever even prompted you to think that he might want to stop. He only fucks into you harder, hand on your hips to steady the thrusts that bring you closer and closer to coming. 

“Wonwoo,” you say. “So close.”

“Yeah? Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come all over my cock like a slut?”

You nod, though he probably doesn't see, and he pulls you even closer, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight in front of him. And to think he could’ve had this earlier had he taken the chance. You in the shortest skirt he’s ever seen, moaning his name like you don’t care if anyone hears — he honestly thinks he might be in heaven. 

“Good girl,” he groans, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you reach your orgasm. “Good fucking girl.”

He comes less than five seconds later, buried deep inside of you as his cum coats your walls. You whimper at the overstimulation of his last thrusts, collapsing on top of the desk when he pulls out. 

He’s careful not to hurt you, but you still wince slightly, which prompts him to ask you if you’re okay.

“Never better,” you reply, and as soon as you say it, you realize it’s true. 

Wonwoo smiles. He helps you clean up – repeatedly apologizing that he’s wiping you clean with the paper by the classroom sink, even though you tell him it’s fine – and puts his glasses on again. It kind of makes you wish he’d never taken them off, but there’s no way you’re telling him that. Your opinion about his beauty is something you’ll keep to yourself for now. 

You get ready to leave just as someone knocks on the door, and Wonwoo opens it for a very flustered professor that tells you he’s sorry for interrupting. Wonwoo tries telling him it’s not like that – though it definitely is like that, and the blush coating his cheeks does nothing to hide it – and finally, you’re in the hallway, free. 

“Poor guy,” you comment, a smile playing on your lips.

Wonwoo sighs. “Tell me about it. And here I was, thinking we’d gotten lucky.”

“I think we did get lucky, though.”

You say this without thinking it through, but from the way Wonwoo’s eyes light up, you’re glad you didn’t. 

Suddenly, the doors to all classrooms in the hallway open and out come tired students, marking the start of the next period. Which you’re supposed to spend in biology.

You sigh, and Wonwoo seems to get it, because he tells you to leave for class. 

“By the way, Y/N,” Wonwoo says just as you’re about to leave. Something in his gaze tells you this isn’t just a ‘by the way’ thing. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m really in love with you. And I’d like you to be my girlfriend.”

“Well, you’re in luck, mister,” you kiss his jaw with a grin. “Because it so happens that I’m in love with you, too. And I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

TAGLIST: @just-here-to-read-01 @syn-hhj @nikkell @dollyji

[laligraves]

chp.2 - poolside

morning run series

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading (not enough so sorry for mistakes), Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, alcohol consumption, pet names, some degradation, breeding kink (yeah), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i'm still here <3! just busy with real life :( i don't have a huge plan for this series except to make little one shots here and there since i have a lot of fun with these two characters lol. other stuff on the way i promise <3

You left two days after that encounter with Joel Miller. Your head was still spinning and your pussy still sore, but the semester started and you needed to be back on campus. 

The first night back in your dorm, you debated throwing out the roses that now sat on your desk. You lasted 10 minutes just looking at them before you were touching yourself to the memory of him. You could still feel the scratch of his beard on your neck and remember the smell of his cologne. 

He’d put his phone number in your contact list and you debated calling him. But what would you even say? 

You should be mad at Joel for what he did. Yet somehow, he managed to reach into the deepest corners of your mind and fulfill one of your darkest fantasies. 

Now, back in town, you can’t help but feel a little excited to see him again. Even if the more sane part of your brain is trying to convince you to slap him across the face if he comes near.  

“Hey, lazy girl,” your sister calls out. 

“Hey,” you respond softly, not moving from your spot on the lounge chair. 

“I’m leaving. Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, knowing you’ll probably spend the entire week swimming and sunbathing by the pool. 

“I left money on the counter and the keys to my car in case you need it.” 

“Okay, mom,” you say sarcastically. 

She throws a pool noodle at you and leaves with her friend after that, promising to text you when she reaches her destination. Any other time you’d be disappointed that your sister was leaving for a full week just as you arrived for summer vacation, but she’s been working so much that she deserves a trip. 

The stress from the semester leaves your body with each lap around the crisp pool and the warm sun. You go back into the house to make yourself a tequila soda and make your way back out to the chairs underneath the canopy. 

A sudden thought pops into your head as you look around the empty backyard. The fences are tall enough and the gate leading to the backyard is locked. Your sister doesn’t have cameras that face this side of the house yet, so there’s really no reason for you to be so nervous. 

You’ve never sunbathed in the nude, there’s just never been an opportunity for it. But now, with the house empty and the tequila coursing through your veins, it would be the perfect time to do so. 

Before the courage leaves you, you slip off the strings of the bikini and spread out on the lounge chair.

“Absolutely nothing to worry about,” you whisper. 

You eventually doze off, moving around until you’re once again face down. A text message from your sister lights up your screen, but at this point you’ve fallen asleep and don’t pay any mind to it. 

I forgot to tell you that Joel Miller from down the block is stopping by. He’s going to plant the roses Susan wants, but needs to take a look first. Help him with whatever he needs. Tell him thank you! 

You start to dream of Joel massaging sunscreen on your back, trailing his hands over your sides until they land on the soft, plump flesh of your ass. 

His hands massage and spread your cheeks open, presenting your asshole and pussy for his eyes. Joel lands a glob of spit right on your little winking star and you flinch slightly. 

“It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos. 

The tip of his finger circles your asshole just a bit, enough for you to shiver from the sensation. 

His fingers trail down to your pussy where he slowly teases a finger up and down your slit, gathering the wetness. 

“Joel,” you whimper. 

You push back on his hand, overcome with need.

Joel laughs at your desperate attempts to fuck yourself on his hand and moves your thigh to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt. 

Before you have a chance to complain, he spreads you open and runs his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip the towel and you almost scream in surprise. 

At the scrape of his teeth on your inner thigh and the scratch of his beard on your skin, you begin to wake. This isn’t a dream.  

“What–” 

“‘bout time you woke up,” Joel growls. “Dreamin’ about me, babydoll?” 

You lift your head, slightly delirious, still grinding back on his face. 

“Joel, whatthefuck–” you whisper, words slurred from sleep. 

He tongues your entrance and swipes a finger over your clit, a movement that has you almost seeing stars. Joel ignores your pleas for him to wait, choosing instead to push two large fingers into your pussy. You choke down on your words at the stretch, still confused. 

“Can barely fit my fingers in this sweet cunt,” Joel says.  

“Wait–” you whimper, “fuck, wait.” 

With his fingers still in your pussy, he moves up to lie partially on top of you. He bites your shoulder, neck, runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. 

“No waiting, babydoll. Gotta stretch this tiny hole,”  

Vulgar. He’s so nasty with his words, still, your pussy beats with its own heartbeat. 

“Joel–” 

“All this time waitin’ for you to call me,” Joel hums into your ear, “just used me for my cock, didn’t you? Little slut.” 

“No, I didn’t. I–” 

“I knock you up?” 

You give a tiny, jerky shake of your head, no, unable to form words. 

“Guess we’ll have to try again, yeah?” he murmurs in your ear. “Gonna’ fill up this pussy.”

“No—“

You mean to say it with conviction. But your voice wavers, and you cum right into the palm of his hand, soaking him.

You grind down on his hand and bite into the towel to muffle your screams. 

“Good girl,” Joel groans, “just love makin’ a mess, don’t cha’?”   

Your hands slowly let go of the towel and your body becomes limp. Joel stands from the chair and you hear the clatter of his belt and the soft rustle of his clothes landing on the ground. 

Your nap being interrupted by Joel is not something you were expecting. In fact, what is he doing here?

“Joel, what are you–” 

His hands reach for your hips and he’s flipping you over on your back, making room for himself between your thighs.

“Needa look at your pretty face and pretty tits while I fuck ‘ya.” 

“We can’t–” 

Joel’s calloused fingers pinch your hard-tipped nipples and as if your body is already conditioned for him, you push up right into his hands.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel groans. 

Before you know what’s happening, Joel leans down to drag his tongue over each peak. He bites, leaving only a hint of pain and shushing your needy whines. 

He grinds down between your open thighs, covering his cock in your slick. You moan and writhe on the lounge chair, twisting your hips with each bump of his mushroom head right on your swollen button. 

 “Joel, please,” you beg. 

But you’re not quite sure what you’re begging for. The sane part of your brain tells you to put an end to this, to send Joel far away from you. But then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your mind goes blank.

Joel keeps biting, sucking, lapping at your tits until you feel the familiar sensation in your lower belly. As if sensing another orgasm, either from your moans or the way you're grinding up on his cock, Joel stops, placing a soft kiss on each nipple before leaning back. 

“I needed to taste those tits before I fuck ya’,” Joel rasps. 

You tremble beneath him, laying there in a sweaty heap. Joel’s face is slightly flushed and his chest rises with each ragged breath he takes. 

Fuck, he’s handsome. Salt and pepper hair, creases around his eyes, a hooked nose and a huge cock make him the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. 

The second he releases your hands, you drag your fingers down his hairy chest and over his soft belly. He’s hard and soft, muscular from working outside but with a belly that you want to lay your head on. 

He moves your hand away, linking his fingers through one of yours and uses his other hand to bump the tip of his length at your entrance. You try, in a small voice that’s just about surrendered to the lust swirling in your head, to stop Joel, suddenly remembering that this is not your house, but your sister’s. 

“Joel, my sister is inside–” 

He tsks in disappointment. “She’s gone for the week,” he interrupts, swirling the tip of his cock on your clit, “don’t lie to me, babydoll.”

Your mouth opens to ask how exactly he knows that, but Joel takes that moment to slide right in. A high-pitched squeal claws its way out of your mouth at the stretch of his cock. 

Joel groans, sounding almost pained. His eyes shut and his mouth drops open while you fight to push him off of you. You forgot just how large he was, and even if your cunt is slick and this isn’t the first time, it’s still a little painful. 

Joel places your hand above your head, still keeping his fingers linked, and uses his other hand to push up your thigh. His nose brushes yours and he gives you a soft kiss.  

He rocks his hips slowly, pushing his tongue into your mouth and matching the pace. You don’t kiss him back, too preoccupied with the cock spearing inside of you and the loss of air in your lungs. 

“Too much–”, you mumble, “too much!” 

Joel moves his lips down your chin, the tip of his tongue dragging a hot path down your neck. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as you try to catch your breath. Each thrust of his hips make you lightheaded. 

“No,” Joel murmurs into your neck, “you can take it, babydoll. Take it like a good girl.”  

With your free hand you try to push at his hips, for him to just give you a moment to breathe. Joel quickly takes your other hand and places it above your head, locking both of your wrists in his grasp. 

Your tits are in Joel’s face, pushed up by the arch of your back. Joel takes full advantage and runs his tongue over your swollen nipples. 

You’re not speaking coherently anymore. Between your pleas for him to slow down, please you whine with each hard thrust into your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ greedy,” Joel groans, “pussy keeps suckin’ me right back in.” 

“You’re so fucking nasty,” you mumble in half-hearted anger. 

But he’s right. Your pussy flutters with each slide of his cock and your thighs bracket his hips, keeping him as close as possible.

The thick head of his cock bumps your womb and you’re almost certain he’s growing bigger inside of you. You can smell him, his cologne and sweat, the scent of a man who spends his time working outside with his hands. 

If Joel were any other man, you’d hate the smell. But with him, it’s intoxicating. 

The first time together was quick, in his front yard where you were forced to stay quiet and take whatever he gave you. Now, your whimpers are loud and he’s in no rush to finish quickly. 

“Gonna breed this little cunt,” Joel slurs, “gonna make you a mommy.”

His hips move faster and tears begin to fall from the corner of your eyes. Joel invades your space and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. Imprints of his teeth and his saliva are left on your neck, tits, and mouth. 

“You want that babydoll? Wanna make me a daddy?” 

Any other man, especially one who is practically a stranger would make you cringe. But Joel’s breeding kink doesn’t phase you. You fall into the fantasy of him cumming inside of you and giving you a baby. 

He pushes his tongue almost down your throat while he fucks you. You kiss him back and suck his tongue on instinct. He whimpers, a sound that makes your pussy tighten in response.  

“Jesus–,” Joel groans. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper, “m–more, please!” 

The chair shakes with each of his thrusts, just about able to hold your combined weight. Joel lets go of your hands and leans back to watch his cock slide into you, seemingly mesmerized at the sight. 

Your hands reach for his sweaty chest, arms, caressing his heated skin. Joel pushes your thighs open and you hear every sticky, wet slide of his cock.

He’s suddenly sliding a hand underneath your neck. 

“Look, babydoll,” Joel gasps. 

You don’t pay him much attention, your eyes barely able to focus on his face.   

“C’mon–fuck.” 

You lean up on your elbows with the little energy you have left and watch his length, veiny and large, covered in your slick, piston in and out of you. 

If it didn’t feel so good, it would be almost scary to look at. Joel, so much larger and stronger than you, somehow able to fit so perfectly inside of you. 

You fall back on the lounge chair and Joel places your ankle on his shoulder. He turns his head to nip your soft skin, leaving another imprint of his teeth on your body. 

He pushes his thumb inside of your mouth and doesn’t even flinch as you bite down. 

“I almost drove down to that college of yours,” he moans, “wanted to drag you outta the dorm and fuck you in the hallway.” 

You moan around his thumb, lost in the fantasy of big, broad Joel dragging you by the hair and fucking you out in the open, in front of everyone to see. 

His words are slurred at this point. But he's so drunk on pure lust that he can’t help himself but keep talking. 

“Wanted to show everyone who owns this slut pussy.”  

The way he speaks to you should make you angry, but you pussy only flutters and squeezes as he calls you his little slut.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and gently slaps your cheek before swiping his spit-covered thumb over your clit. 

He swipes over your swollen bud, once, twice, using your spit and slick that now covers both of your lower bodies.

Your orgasm tears through you, washing over you in warm waves of bliss. 

Joel keeps fucking you, moving faster until his hips piston and you're being used as a toy while your orgasm courses through your body. 

He lays on top of you, keeping your thrashing and whimpering body bracketed onto the chair. Joel’s moans grow loud in your ear and you know he’s close. 

“Not inside–” you whimper, “don’t cum–” your words not having any real meaning behind them except to add to your fantasy. 

“Fuckin’ mine, my little cunt,” Joel snaps, “gonna cum in my babydoll–” 

He swells impossibly larger inside of you and then you feel it, the hot splash of cum. Ropes and ropes fill your cunt and he grinds his cock into you, buries his head in your neck and groans your name over and over again. 

Your body, still recovering from your orgasm from only a few moments ago, trembles once more. The warmth of his cum painting your womb shakes another one out of you. 

You’re not sure how long it lasts. Joel continues to whisper in your ear about how fuckin’ sweet you are and how you have the tiniest cunt ever, babydoll while his cock fills you with cum. 

Joel continues to lay on top of you and while he’s larger in every sense of the way, his weight is comforting. The setting sun is blocked by the canopy which you're grateful for because you don’t want him to move. 

“How are ya’ feeling?” Joel asks. 

You’ve almost fallen asleep at this point. 

“Full… and sore,” you whisper. 

“Maybe this time I’ll actually knock you up,” Joel whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

You roll your eyes and push him off of you. 

“Not going to happen, old man. I’m on birth control. And we just met!"

“Shame,” he sighs dramatically. “How about I grill us some steaks?” 

[sokuroo]

in the spirit of matrimony.

summary — iwaizumi hajime is getting married, and you and your ex, oikawa tooru, must pretend you’re still together to avoid ruining his big day. the charade, however, proves to be a lot more complicated than you thought.

pairing — oikawa tooru x fem!reader genres — romance, angst; exes to lovers, fake dating!au word count — 3.0k

warnings — profanity, alcohol consumption author’s note — please excuse the writing, it is wildly inconsistent, and most of it feels like i wrote through a fever dream 😭 a little bit of info on some terms used: an izakaya is a type of informal japanese bar; oshibori is a wet towel offered at dining places used to clean one’s hands before eating; otoshi is an appetizer offered at izakaya

Oikawa Tooru is currently using the shower in your hotel room, and you are running late for dinner with Iwaizumi Hajime because of this.

You sit on the plush armchair in the corner of the room, picking at the raised swirls and curlicues embroidered on the cushion. You’re supposed to be meeting with Iwaizumi for dinner in fifteen minutes, but Oikawa seems to be taking his own sweet time getting ready. You can’t say you’re surprised. 

Irritated? Yes.

When he finally bursts out of the bathroom, looking like a Louis Vuitton model, you simply grab your purse and hotel card, and stride out the door without a second glance. Oikawa Tooru isn’t worth your time or energy—for now.

He catches up with you quickly—volleyball legs, and all that—and you can smell his perfume: Cremo spice and black vanilla. You hate the fact that you remember; you’d rather not, but he hasn’t changed the scent in five years and it’s always the little things that are the hardest to forget. In his black button down shirt and with his hair styled carefully with gel, Oikawa definitely looks attractive. He knows it, too, probably, and it gives you a twisted sort of satisfaction knowing that he can’t go about flirting with every person who catches his eye.

He simply cannot, because as far as Iwaizumi Hajime is concerned, you and Oikawa are still together.

“Don’t forget,” you mutter, just low enough that only he can hear you.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves his hand dismissively before tucking it back into his pocket. “It’s just Hajime. Don’t worry.”

You bite back a sigh. It would do you no good to appear so visibly vexed—and it would cause Hajime to worry unnecessarily, which does a lot more harm to everyone involved. The only thing you want him to be worried about is wedding preparations and becoming a husband in three days. 

Your old friend meets you at the hotel lobby, right before Oikawa furtively slips his hand into yours. Iwaizumi looks tired—his clothes look rumpled and he has dark circles under his eyes—but he still smiles at you and Oikawa in the same way: boyish and crooked. You grin back at him.

“Hey, you two.” Iwaizumi opens his arms and pulls you in for a hug. His stubble brushes against your cheek, and you frown. 

“You’re growing a beard?” you ask incredulously, when you pull away.

He chuckles. “I wish. I need to look handsome on the day of the wedding. Akari thinks it makes me look rugged.” He shrugs and adds, “Personally, I can’t tell the difference.”

“How’s Mrs. Iwaizumi doing?” Oikawa cuts in. He smiles at his best friend, a quick flash of his teeth that you haven’t seen in ages. It almost makes you wish he still smiled at you like that. Almost.

“Akari’s great,” Hajime answers, the edges of his smile turning fond. His fiancé is truly the sweetest, and she’s perfect for Iwaizumi in ways no one else ever could be. It’s difficult to doubt their love, and you consider yourself lucky to have witnessed them falling for each other in college. “Really great, actually. She told me to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t make it today, but she can’t wait to see you both tomorrow.”

Your ex-boyfriend sighs dramatically. “Iwa-chan. The only entertaining person of the evening is missing. Whatever shall I do?”

“I’m sure your girlfriend will provide ample entertainment, Oikawa,” Hajime deadpans.

Your cheeks flood with heat at the implication. You’re the furthest thing from being Oikawa Tooru’s entertainment tonight, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s laughing internally at the predicament.

“She’s good at entertaining me with other things,” he retorts, waggling his eyebrows in that infuriating way of his. “Not funny enough, unfortunately.”

You bristle. “Uncalled for, Oikawa.”

He turns to you—the first time he’s looked at you properly since you arrived at the hotel in their hometown—and, taking your hand in his, rubs his thumb along the back of your palm. You nearly shiver; Oikawa used to do that all the time when you were still together, and the small gesture now makes a lump form in your throat. 

“Just kidding, babe,” he says indulgently. “You know I make up for the lack of humour on your part.”

You have to give it to him. Oikawa Tooru is a magnificent actor. 

The way he talks to you, as though both of you hadn’t walked out of the hotel room without saying a word to each other is a feat in itself. He speaks to you as though nothing has changed, as though everything about the way you’re projecting yourselves to your friend is completely natural. You close the hole in your chest where Oikawa used to reside; you will not fall for his little antics—not when he chose to leave you alone.

You roll your eyes, meeting Hajime’s fond—if exasperated—gaze. “Ignore him.”

“I’ve been doing it my entire life,” he responds.

“You are mean and I hate you both,” Oikawa whines. Both of you ignore him.

“Let’s go,” Hajime says. “The izakaya gets really crowded later in the night.”

You wipe your hands on the soft cotton of the oshibori, scanning the menu taped onto the wall. Next to you, Oikawa digs into the otoshi, and in front of you, Hajime sips on his glass of beer. 

“Yakisoba noodles sounds good,” you murmur, “don’t you think?”

“I wan’ the chmmkn kraagh,” Oikawa says immediately through a mouthful of potato salad.

Iwaizumi sighs and translates, “He wants the chicken karaage.”

You scowl. You and Oikawa Tooru can never agree about things. You’re both too stubborn and hot-headed to budge from your opinions, and towards the end of your relationship, the number of petty arguments that were a result of your clashing personalities was high. At one point of time, you might have said that it was one of Oikawa’s qualities that you admired.

Right now, it just irks you to no end.

“We can order both,” you suggest. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. He makes a show of swallowing, exaggerating the bob of his throat, before he turns to you and states, “I want the chicken karaage, and I know Iwa-chan likes it more than yakisoba noodles.”

“Actually,” Hajime says mildly, “I kind of want the sashimi.”

“Let’s just order all three.” You bring your glass of beer to your lips and take a sip.

Iwaizumi looks curiously between you both. You take another sip of your beer, and you come to the realisation that for an outsider—like Hajime—you and Oikawa look absolutely nothing like a couple.

The fault is yours: You didn’t tell Hajime about your break up with Oikawa, and neither did he. Hajime still thinks you’re together. Neither you nor your ex-boyfriend are tactless enough to tell him that you aren’t dating anymore three days before he’s getting married. Iwaizumi is excited, and you aren’t about to dampen his happiness by telling him his two best friends haven’t spoken to each other in months.

That’s how, for the first time in ages, you and Oikawa Tooru decided that you couldn’t ruin Iwaizumi Hajime’s Big Day, and it was also how Operation: Pretend Like You’re Madly In Love So Your Surprisingly Intuitive Best Friend Doesn’t Feel Bad came about.

You set your beer down again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Can I try some of that?” you ask, nudging Oikawa’s shoulder with yours.

He pauses mid-chew, chopsticks held high in the air. “Sure.”

You nudge his shoulder again, a little bit more forcefully this time. Oikawa glares at you. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to send him some sort of telepathic signal. His eyes widen.

“Here, babe,” he says, plastering a grin on his face. He picks up a chunk of the creamy potato salad that was served as the otoshi and holds it up. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to gently bring your face closer to his chopsticks. You fist your fingers, nails cutting crescents into your palms, and accept the mouthful he holds out to you.

“Good?” Oikawa murmurs, his eyes not leaving your face.

You hum. It is good, rich and tart with a touch of sweetness, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to verbalise it. Your gaze flits downwards as you gently pull away from his grasp. Your jaw tingles where he held it.

Iwaizumi grins at you—almost knowingly—when you pick up your beer again. He holds a hand up, calling for the waiter to take your orders.

The alcohol washes down the taste of the food, but your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

It is always alcohol that loosens your tongue, and it’s the same for Oikawa Tooru as well. The beer you had at the izakaya lowers the towering walls between you both somewhat. It’s easier to speak to him, now, and after you switch on the lights in the hotel room and kick off your sandals, you whirl around and face Oikawa.

“What the hell was that?” you seethe, glaring at your ex-boyfriend.

He pauses in the middle of taking off his shoes. “What the hell was what?”

“You almost blew our cover! Didn’t you see the way Hajime looked at us?”

Oikawa cocks his head to the side, and his cluelessness only infuriates you even more.

“God, you haven’t changed one bit!” you rant. Your chest heaves with emotion—you’re not sure what emotion, exactly. Anger? Resentment? Foolish hope? Or perhaps a cocktail of all three that causes you to feel nothing but confusion. “Hajime is getting married in two days, and I know you couldn’t care less, but for his sake, can’t you make this whole—whole act more believable?”

“You— What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Oikawa’s eyebrows raise upwards incredulously. “You think I don’t care about Iwaizumi’s wedding? I met him before I even knew you existed.” He scoffs. “Of fucking course I care!”

“Then would it kill you to act like you still love me?” You take a step forward, eyes narrowed and index finger pointing at him. “Is that it? Is it so repulsive to pretend like you still have feelings for me, so that your best friend doesn’t worry about us?”

“That’s not it, and you know it,” Oikawa snarls, a frown marring his features. “We should’ve told him as soon as it happened.”

Hearing him refer to your relationship as it feels like a slap to the face. You falter, cursing yourself inwardly.

Of course he doesn’t care for you now. Why would he, after he decided that long-distance relationships were too much effort? I don’t see us working out in the long run, he’d explained over FaceTime. I’m sorry.

Two days later, you declared yourself officially single. You burrowed yourself in piles of work and forgot to tell Iwaizumi Hajime because talking to Hajime would remind you of Oikawa, and you weren’t ready for that yet. Eventually, you just… didn’t tell him.

That’s why it came as an unwelcome surprise to you when you walked into the hotel lobby and found Oikawa Tooru waiting there, with his arms crossed over his chest and his suitcase by his feet. You’re here, he’d said, and you wanted to punch yourself for the way your heart somersaulted in your chest.

You finally find your voice again. “But we didn’t, so would it kill you to just… not be so fucking obvious?”

Oikawa remains stoic, though you suspect he’s just as agitated as you are. “Yes. I don’t want to do this at all.”

Something in you breaks. How easy it is for Oikawa to break your heart. You’d given him the fragile thing, made of glass, and he had knocked it over like it was a house of cards more than once. 

“Fine,” you grit out, bending down and picking up your footwear again. The alcohol buzzing in your head isn’t enough—you need to stop thinking, need to find some way to stop yourself from constantly imagining him. “See if I care.”

You shoulder past him and place your hand on the doorknob.

“Where are you going?”

If you really strained your ears, you could almost hear the imperceptible concern in Oikawa’s voice. You brush it off; he doesn’t have any feelings towards you, as he’s made so amply clear.

“Why do you care?” you retort, before pushing open the door and heading in the direction of the hotel restaurant’s bar.

The room is dark when you open the door.

It’s a little past one in the morning—or so one of the bellhops had said when he kindly escorted you back to your room. Your mind is swirling.

It seems even getting yourself batshit drunk isn’t enough to eradicate all thoughts of Oikawa.

The walls spin. You stumble inside. Your hip bumps against something solid—a table, probably—and you let out a startled yelp. 

Oikawa’s voice is like a balm, soothing your feverish forehead, when he says your name.

How are you supposed to get over him? How are you supposed to go back to living alone when you’ve had this taste of what it could be like, regardless of how authentic it is?

The answer is clear as day: You cannot.

A pair of hands guides you by the shoulders to the bed. Oikawa is careful, gentle with his hold on you. You sprawl on the bed sheets, the fabric cool against your cheek. He appears like an outline in the darkness. 

“Are you okay?”

“God,” you mumble, screwing your eyes shut. “You can’t keep doing this to me, Oikawa.”

He remains silent for a moment, before he clears his throat and says, “You asked me why I care about where you go.”

You don’t say anything.

“I just do,” he continues, “and I don’t know how to explain it. But I do care.”

His fingers are warm when he caresses your cheek. The last thing you do before succumbing to sleep is murmur his name—a curse, but somehow reverent.

When you wake up the next morning, the sheets next to you are rumpled. There is no sign of Oikawa anywhere in the room, but there is a tall glass of water placed on the bedside table.

Through the pounding of your head, you squint at the note written using the hotel stationery placed beside it. 

Drink up. Hajime and Akari are bringing us breakfast.

Breakfast is a lively affair. You’re glad to see Akari again, happy to see the to-be-newlyweds so patently in love with each other.

Oikawa keeps his hand on your thigh, steady and comforting, and offers you golden smiles whenever you catch his eye, and you swallow down the awful lump in your throat.

The day passes by in a blur.

It’s on the day before Iwaizumi’s wedding that Oikawa Tooru kisses you.

Wedding photos are unnecessary, you think. After all, you’re not the one getting married. But Akari had been insistent that you and Oikawa take some pictures together, and you couldn’t refuse her beseeching gaze.

Oikawa, clad in his dapper suit, with his hair styled using copious amounts of hair gel, places his hands on your waist and draws you in. His fingers bunch up the material of your dress. The photographer asks you to place your hands on his chest. His heartbeat is a steady thrum underneath the pads of your fingertips. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, leaning in. 

You nod.

His mouth tastes like spearmint and the chocolate muffins he’d shared with you at breakfast. 

The afternoon passes by in a daze.

As you walk through the wedding venue, noting all the decorations and the flower arrangements, Oikawa slips his hand into yours. 

“You don’t have to,” you say. “No one’s here to see us.”

“I want to,” he replies simply. He is serious now, not his usual boisterous self, the way he is around Hajime and Akari. “It’s a nice place, no?”

You press your lips together. His words are oddly reminiscent of what he said the night you were drunk. Your stomach twists into knots, but if you don’t ask him the one question that has been nagging at you since then, who will do it for you?

“Tooru,” you say.

He stiffens. It’s the first time you’ve used his first name since you broke up with him.

“Why didn’t you tell Hajime we broke up?” you ask.

His shoulders loosen and his mouth twists upwards in a crooked, sad sort of smile. 

“Because I love you, and breaking up with you broke me in some way.”

Your voice is quiet when you ask, “Why did you?”

“I didn’t want to be the one holding you back,” he says, just as quietly. “I didn’t want you to be constantly worrying about someone who didn’t even live in the same country as you. You deserve someone who will be there for you. Someone you can come home to after work, and talk about your day, and cook dinner together with. I couldn’t give you that.”

You want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. What a stupid, idiotic fool you’re in love with.

“Silly,” you say. “I only want you.”

The wedding happens on a sunny afternoon, and it is beautiful. Akari is radiant, and Hajime tells her that he’s the luckiest man ever. They are in love, and looking at them doesn’t hurt anymore. Your ex-boyfriend turned current boyfriend presses his shoulder against yours and gives you a small, knowing smile when he catches you almost tearing up. You nudge him back, and his smile grows into a grin that envelops his face in gold.

(“You’re the golden one,” he’ll tell you later, pressing feather-light kisses to your collarbones and cheeks. You’ll say he’s wrong.)

Right before the crowd disperses, Oikawa takes your hand and brings it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss against the knuckle of your ring finger.

Later, he whispers to you that it’s all in the spirit of matrimony.

Oikawa Tooru is using the shower in your bedroom, and he’s running late to catch his flight back to Argentina, and everything is perfect.

author’s note (again): this fic is a birthday gift to my best friend, @hanluex! it's the most last-minute thing ever and i apologise but HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOKI!!!

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Twenty

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 17.2k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

PLEASE SEE ANNOUNCEMENT ABOUT FUTURE UPDATES HERE

Hello!!! Long-awaited 20 is here!! Honestly this is the longest I've stuck with a fic so I am very honored and lucky to have so many readers willing to wait and enjoy Trouvaille. You all mean the world to me! While Trouvaille will be going on a short hiatus, I will be working on drabbles for the series, so feel free to shoot me some ideas in the meantime. That said, my new fic "Sanctity" will be out in time for fall, and I'm pumped to work on something new and different.

About 20- of course we have the angst, but there are lots of tender moments and humor to patch that up. We have a confession in this update, too, and I hope you all enjoy that scene. It has been highly anticipated 💜 Love to you all and please enjoy (and thank you!! again for all your support!)

Previous Chapter

Silence rang out as Y/N watched Harold Bass’ figure retreat down her porch steps though the stained glass, her heart thundering in her chest painfully and the walls closing in. Was it truly possible that her hybrids could be taken away by such a man? Did a deposit he made on them months ago really hold weight in court? She couldn’t even make a motion to grapple for her phone in her pocket to call Ben in a panic, her breath coming out in uneven pants. 

“A million dollars for seven of us,” Jeongguk broke the stillness, his voice taking on a cold and distant quality that she hadn’t heard from him in months. “Kind of an offer you can’t refuse, honestly, Y/N.”

Flinching like she was shot, Y/N spun around to stare at his stony expression, tears immediately gathering in her eyes. Everything hurt, the idea of her boys getting shipped off to their demise, Jeongguk’s dig, and the way Namjoon couldn’t even look at her. Tears slipping down her cheeks, her elk hybrid’s demeanor shifted slightly, surprise flashing in his eyes. 

“How… how could you say that to me?” Y/N asked quietly, devastated. With all the progress she thought she made with Jeongguk and Namjoon, she couldn’t understand those reactions. Jeongguk blinked, all of the iciness melting from the wall he put up, Namjoon stiffening when he scented her bitter tears. “How could you t-think that I’d ever? Why would you think…”

Voice cracking when she spoke, an involuntary sob wracked through her. 

“Shit…” Jeongguk hissed, regretful. Y/N was too busy miserably staring at the floor with tears pouring from her lash line to notice him stepping forward. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Jeongguk’s palm cradled the back of her bowed head, his tattooed fingers sliding through the strands of her hair as he coaxed her into an embrace, her cheek squished against his chest. Pausing, she was stunned when his heavy forearm wrapped around her lower back and drew her even closer. Sniffing, her tears were flowing for a different reason now, her arms hanging limply by her sides as Jeongguk held her. 

“That was stupid, I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry, doll,” Jeongguk rested his chin on the top of her head, Y/N curling her fingers into the front of his tee shirt at the new, tender pet name he offered her. Curiously, her vision still watery, she peered at Namjoon looming over them close by, his fluffy ears sideways and eyebrows knit together. Concerned. 

“It’s– it’s okay, as long as you really b-believe I’d never,” Y/N swallowed, throat raw. “I’d never let him take you from me. Not for anything! No amount of money or threatening lawsuits, we’re a family. Tell me you believe that, please.”

Jeongguk shushed her, his hand sliding from her hair to around her shoulders, squeezing firmly, the action a non-verbal response. Still looking at Namjoon, the wolf hybrid was all soft edges after hearing how Y/N resolutely stated that she thought of them as family. 

“I believe you,” Jeongguk murmured, giving her one last pat on her shoulder before releasing her, his shirt pulling out of her sweaty fists. “Don’t cry anymore.”

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled, cheeks flaming. Namjoon growled, Y/N glancing at him nervously, gasping when he was inches from her face. “Joon–”

Namjoon cupped one of her cheeks– still damp– and lowered his face to hers, Y/N’s breath catching in her throat. Reflexively, her eyelids dropped shut when his warm breath washed over the side of her face, and when his full lips pressed against her temple resolutely, her eyes flew back open. Namjoon had never kissed her, and sure, she had brushed one against his cheek before, but he was more than used to her being the more affectionate one in the dynamic. Her tears dried up immediately, Namjoon’s long fingers caressing beneath her jaw. 

“Oh,” was all she could breathe, his lips on her skin warm and supple, and the gesture seemed calculated and sure. 

“Y/N, your friend, Ben. He’d be able to help us with this, right?” Namjoon stretched back up to his full height, smoothing her hair that Jeongguk’s fingers had just mussed back into place gently. 

“Y-yes. I’ll call him… he’ll do everything he can. He’s taken on cases involving hybrids before,” Y/N finally shook off her surprise and dismay, reaching for one of Namjoon’s hands and one of Jeongguk’s, too, holding on tight. Then, there was thundering footsteps smacking against the wooden floorboards.

“What happened?” Yoongi was flying down the stairs, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the two hybrids hiding Y/N from his view. The leopard hybrid walked into the heavy scent of Y/N’s fear and despair as soon as he opened the door to the music room, and his fight or flight kicked in. At that moment, he wanted to fight. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi, even though he was smaller than the two hybrids shielding her from his view, shouldered past them with urgency, Jeongguk stumbling back a few feet due to the force of Yoongi’s shove. If she wasn’t overwhelmed with emotion, she would have giggled at the look of astonishment on Jeongguk’s face. There was a deep crease between Yoongi’s eyebrows as he grit his teeth at the tear tracks on her cheeks, and Y/N could practically see steam coming out of his ears. 

“Did you two say something to her?” Yoongi’s voice was dangerously low, the words spat out between his teeth. Oh, he was furious. 

Quickly, Y/N shook her head, grabbing Yoongi’s wrist before he could lunge at Jeongguk. Posture coiled, he looked down at her, everything about him positively feline and predatory. 

“No, angel, they didn’t do anything! Um, let me explain… how do I..”

“We had an uninvited guest,” Jeongguk recovered from being shoved, rubbing his shoulder where Yoongi barreled into. 

“Who?”

“The motherfucker that wanted to adopt us before Y/N. The one that probably would have killed us. He found the house somehow,” Jeongguk grimaced, Yoongi’s tail going ramrod straight in shock. “Apparently he was the spam caller, he wants to buy us all off of Y/N.”

A pause, Yoongi’s eyes turning into slits as he tried to determine whether or not Jeongguk was telling the truth, before the leopard hybrid scoffed sharply. 

“That’s ridiculous. We’ve been legally adopted, he can’t do that. Only if he has proof of some kind of abuse Y/N has put us through or–”

“A legally binding document,” Namjoon finished for Yoongi, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Right, which doesn’t exist. Y/N got to us before he did. Why does this guy think he has any kind of claim to stake over us? After all these months?”

“I don’t know, he’s a hedge fund douchebag. He said he made a deposit on us and is actually willing to take Y/N to fucking court,” Jeongguk rubbed his temples, trying to wrap his head around the situation. 

Sure, Y/N’s friend Ben was a very successful lawyer, but with people like Harold Bass and their never-ending supply of money and privilege, the elk hybrid was worried. Yoongi turned a touch green, Y/N able to feel his pulse racing through the grip she had on his wrist. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” Hoseok jogged into the foyer, a layer of sweat coating his golden skin. He had been gone for a few hours to run around the neighborhood, and must have come into the house from the back door. “What are you guys talking about, court? Jesus, you all reek of doom.”

Hoseok’s upturned nose twitched, his russet ears flattening against his head when he saw Y/N’s lower lip begin to quiver. Jeongguk cleared his throat and repeated what he told Yoongi minutes prior, Hoseok’s constant tail wagging going completely still. 

“What the fuck?” Hoseok breathed, staring at Y/N with alarm. “He must have gotten our address from Gerry. That’s the only way he could have found us… hold on.” Something dawned on him, remembering something from his run when he turned down the street they lived on. 

“When I was heading back, not even fifteen minutes ago. Fancy car was driving by, but slowed down when I was passing. The rear window rolled down and this dude started saying some creepy-ass shit to me. He had a gold tooth. Stuff like that happens to me every once in a while, so I just blew him off and kept running. Was that him?” 

Horror washed over Y/N. What if Harold Bass attempted to abduct Hoseok? Bile rising in her throat, she released Yoongi’s wrist and reached for her fox hybrid, palms settling on the slick skin of his biceps. 

“He just talked to you? He didn’t get out of the car or try to touch you, did he? What did he say?” Y/N rapid-fired, scanning his entire body for any sign of something wrong. 

“No, he didn’t get out of the car, I ran away before he could. I’m fine, darling,” Hoseok’s mouth flattened into a line, patting the back of one of her hands. “I didn’t really catch much of what he was saying. The usual, for guys like him. Calling me an ‘animal’, something about how I’d be a tricky one to ‘catch’ or whatever. Probably referring to sport hunting, now that I know who he is.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Y/N’s voice was faint, blood draining from her face. Urgently, she barrelled to the powder room off of the foyer, her knees slamming against the tile floor when the contents of her breakfast made a second appearance in the toilet bowl. 

As she was heaving, she felt someone gather up her hair in their fist, a free hand gently rubbing her back. Crying again, this time because of the way nausea was curling in her gut, she heard the tap running and the sounds of a washcloth being rung out. Once there was nothing left for her to heave up, she shakily flushed the toilet, sitting back on her heels. 

“Here,” a damp cloth was placed in front of her face, Y/N gawking at the fabric blankly. A rough sigh came from the hybrid holding it, bending to kneel beside Y/N. “It’s alright, doll.”

Jeongguk used a thumb and a forefinger to pinch her chin, angling her face towards him, a concentrated line making up his mouth when he used the cool cloth to dab around her face. Simply staring at him, attempting to catch her breath, she felt the elk hybrid swipe the cold sweat from her brow before he mopped up the saliva around her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Yoongi and Hoseok lingering by the bathroom door, both of them displaying animalistic anxiety with the movements of their tails and positioning of their ears. 

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked, feeling like she had made their nerves worse by getting physically sick on them. She found a spare bottle of mouthwash under the sink, taking a pause to rinse out her mouth. “Sometimes that happens when I’m really anxious. Thanks, Jeongguk.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Hoseok answered for Jeongguk, watching the elk hybrid toss the washcloth in the hamper and offering his hand to Y/N in order to help her to her feet. Limbs trembling, she let Hoseok pull her up, an arm around her waist to keep her upright. “We’ll figure this out, darling. Don’t you worry.”

“Where did Joon go?” Y/N’s throat was scratchy, noticing his absence when Hoseok led her back into the hall. She watched Yoongi march towards the direction of her bedroom with purpose, her fox hybrid herding Y/N close behind him. 

“He went to deliver the news to the others outside. Jimin and Seokjin were in the garden and I think Taehyung was chopping firewood,” Yoongi grunted, rummaging through Y/N’s dresser determinedly. “Hoseok, can you make her some tea?”

Hoseok whistled, squeezing Y/N’s waist and leaving her in her bedroom alone with Yoongi. Holding onto the wall, she eyed her leopard hybrid warily, having a good idea what he was thinking about. Yoongi wasn’t the type to be afraid of things; he’d watch horror movies with Y/N, unflinchingly carry spiders outside, and chop vegetables with a cleaver while maintaining eye contact with whoever was talking to him. But Y/N knew there was one thing that scared him to death: the possibility of being separated from her. 

“Yoongi, I’m going to call Ben. I want to get ahead of this. Ben might have a way to get this guy out of our life before we even see a courthouse,” Y/N announced firmly, reaching for her phone on her nightstand. 

“Come here,” Yoongi’s voice was barely above a whisper, Y/N turning to look at him curiously. He stood close, and stacked a soft pair of sweatpants and a slouchy tank top on her bed, his familiar purrs filling the room when she obeyed his request. “Let’s get you changed, baby. Wait for Namjoon to tell the other three what happened before you talk to Ben.”

Y/N nodded, distractedly popping the button of her jeans open. Yoongi helped her out of them, his eyes not darkening like they usually did when he saw her in such a state of undress, Y/N shivering when his cool fingertips slid beneath her sweater. Gingerly, he peeled the garment off of her, and Y/N let him dress her like a Barbie doll– she suspected he was deeply focusing on the task to make himself feel better. Once he tied the strings of her sweatpants, Y/N took his face in her palms. 

“No one's gonna take you from me, you got that?” Y/N brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones, his hazel eyes glittering. Long hair falling forward as he leaned down, Yoongi kissed her lower lip softly, his hands stroking up the length of her spine. 

 “I know you won’t go down without a fight, baby,” Yoongi murmured, pulling her in for a hug and resting his face in the crook of her neck. 

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Y/N admitted, pressing her cheek over Yoongi’s heart so the steady beating would calm her. “I love you all too much to not give that motherfucker the fight of his life.”

Y/N expected Yoongi to snort at her comment, but he didn’t. If anything, he paused, pulling away from her slightly. Confused, she accepted her phone from him, his free hand clasped with hers. 

“We should put Ben on speaker in the living room. He might have some advice for all of us,” Yoongi began to escort her to the parlor, his tail curling around the back of her leg securely. 

Silently agreeing, she searched for Ben in her contacts, catching a whiff of a familiar cologne as they walked through the hallway. Sandalwood– Taehyung. Namjoon must have swallowed some pride to drag him back into the house. Biting her lip, she wondered how he took the news, wondering if that would be the straw that broke his back. As if sensing her thoughts, Yoongi tightened his grip on her hand, perhaps encouragingly. Everyone was standing around in the living room, Seokjin looking like he was about to pass away and Jimin’s leg bouncing nervously. Without a word, Y/N dialed the number, placing the phone on the coffee table gravely. 

“Y/N! How are you, honey?”

“I’ve been better,” Y/N glanced at Taehyung, who was staring out into the backyard, the Kodiak hybrid unseeing, like he was neither here nor there. “Something happened, I need your help.”

The first thing Ben suggested was filing a temporary restraining order against Harold Bass, which he was promptly in the process of taking care of for her. Ben told her that the fact that the man took it upon himself to harass her with phone calls, show up at their house, and make indirect threats to Namjoon, Jeongguk, and Hoseok was plenty of evidence to file the order. Y/N sent screenshots of the amount of times Harold tried to call her. If they did end up at the courthouse, Ben said he could get a recording of the time Y/N had actually picked up the phone and talked to Harold and use that in her defense. 

Ben’s calm tone and reassuring words did wonders to ease not only her mind, but seemed to get her boys to relax somewhat. The lawyer sounded confident that even if Harold Bass managed to take them to court, he wouldn’t be able to take the boys from her with a mere deposit slip, considering how long the hybrids had already legally been under her care. Ben told her to take things easy for the following days, perhaps staying close to or inside of their home, advising Hoseok to pause his runs around the neighborhood and making sure that their house alarms were working. 

In the days that followed, Y/N and the boys stuck closely together. Thankfully it was the weekend, so trips to the rec center were unnecessary, and Y/N even arranged for groceries to be delivered to the house. The backyard was fenced in as well, so when the boys got a little itchy to stretch their legs and be outside, they could do so freely. Y/N felt horrible that they weren’t able to do things that they normally did during the weekends; like go into the city for dinner, see a movie, or shop in the town square. If any of them were bummed out about it, none of them let it show. 

Jeongguk took it upon himself to set up Pentagon-level security in the house, ordering Ring cameras, setting up lights that would automatically turn on if anyone approached the entrances inside, and monitored the cameras in the downstairs office like the Secret Service. He hadn’t so much as mentioned anything paranormal related since Harold Bass turned up on their porch. 

Namjoon, too, had upped the intensity with security. He would linger by all the doors for hours, looking out the windows, making sure things were locked up tight. Y/N caught him in the office one day, his teeth bared, asking Jeongguk to order more locks to install on the front and back doors. 

As for her two feline hybrids, there was hardly a moment where one of them wasn't glued to her side. Truthfully, her alone time (not that she necessarily craved it) was reserved for when she needed to use the bathroom or bathe. Every night Seokjin and Yoongi would curl around either side of her body, not being able to bear sleeping without her until Harold Bass was out of their lives for good. 

It was only when Ben called her Saturday afternoon to tell her the temporary restraining order had gone through that everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. One of the positive things that came with the recent bumps in the road was Taehyung being around more often. He started to make an appearance during their nightly movies, and didn’t skip meals anymore. While he hardly spoke unless it was absolutely necessary, Y/N counted his presence as a silver lining. 

However, that same Saturday evening was when Y/N had asked Laura to come over and assess the situation with Taehyung as a third party, followed by watching her son Kai for a few hours while she and her husband went out for dinner and a movie. Paired with the good news of the restraining order, Y/N actually grinned when she swung the front door open to reveal one of her best friends, holding her son on one hip and balancing a diaper bag on the other. Behind her, Y/N could see Tyler– Laura’s husband– lugging some kind of play mat up the porch steps. 

“Is this your way of asking me if I can watch him for the weekend while you two go to Sandals or something?” Y/N made grabby hands for Kai, a sweet toddler with dark coily curls similar to his Auntie Alice’s. 

Laura snorted, passing him over easily, Y/N cooing and nestling the boy on her hip. Kai sleepily rested his rounded cheek into the crook of Y/N’s neck while she ushered his parents inside, Jimin appearing from his bedroom to take the diaper bag from Laura. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were the best with children out of all of her hybrids. It was likely Jimin had such a way with them considering his upbringing on the ranch with his own family. Hoseok loved to goof off, and kids being around was the perfect excuse to be wacky. 

As for Seokjin, kids were drawn to him like a magnet. Probably because he was so sweet, gentle, and shy. Y/N had noticed a frequent expression of longing whenever she and Seokjin were in a store together and they encountered a baby in a stroller. She hadn’t explicitly talked to Seokjin about it, but she was pretty sure he wanted kids in the future. The thought of a tiny version of her and Seokjin, maybe one with his ears, nearly made her trip into the living room with Kai still in her arms. 

“Aw, look how big he’s getting!” Hoseok exclaimed in a silly voice, wiggling his fingers against Kai’s tummy when Y/N came into the parlor. 

Not everyone was present, Namjoon and Jeongguk were in the van doing a little research on the hotel they were to investigate in the near future, and Yoongi was stress-baking in the kitchen like he had been doing for the past several days. Y/N had never eaten so many cookies in her entire life. 

“Can you believe it? He’ll be in preschool before we know it,” Laura was helping Tyler roll out the mat on the floor, one with shapes, colors, and animals labeled on it. 

“Momma, a fox! He has ears,” Kai pointed a chubby index finger at Hoseok’s head, his triangular appendages twitching when the child’s attention were on them fully. 

“That’s right, honey. That’s Hoseok, Auntie Y/N’s friend,” Laura took Tyler’s hand to help her up, Hoseok making an odd chirping sound when his name was called. “He’s a fox hybrid. Look over here, see who’s helping daddy? That’s Jimin, he’s a coyote hybrid.”

It had been so long since Y/N had seen Kai, she didn’t realize how much his vocabulary had expanded. He was wiggling in Y/N’s grip, so she gently lowered him to the ground, where he hurried over to Jimin placing some of the child’s toys on the mat. Jimin didn’t even flinch when Kai accidentally tread over the coyote hybrid’s sandy tail, which had Y/N cringing– if she knew anything about the sensitivity of hybrid tails, she knew that that must have hurt like a bastard. 

“Hello Seokjin! Taehyung, you too! I haven’t seen any of you since Taehyung’s birthday party in December,” Laura sat on the couch beside Y/N, taking stock of how many of the hybrids were in the room. Taehyung lingered in his usual spot at the back of the room, the settee by the window overlooking the backyard, while Seokjin was glued to Y/N’s other side on the couch, naturally. “So, how have things been? I heard about… that unsavory man. Ben will kick his butt though.”

“I have no doubt about that, I’ve seen him demolish Hoseok with sarcastic banter. He must be an amazing lawyer,” Jimin pointed out cheerfully. The coyote hybrid had attempted to be upbeat ever since finding out about Harold Bass, which Y/N appreciated. “That aside, next time you’re here during the day, we can show you two and Kai the garden and the stable. Do you think he’d like to meet the horses?”

“Oh, absolutely. He loves animals and hybrids. Can’t you tell how excited he is to be around you? And little Daisy has become one of his best friends,” Laura leaned back, subtly glancing at Taehyung behind her shoulder. Y/N was glad he hadn’t snuck from the room already, though with hybrid perceptivity, he could definitely tell Laura was no threat to him. “Kai, gentle! Remember what I told you about their ears?”

Indeed, Kai was climbing on one of Jimin’s thighs as the hybrid sat on the floor, his toddler-sized fists reaching for Jimin’s ears that were flopping forward cutely. 

“It’s okay, I’ve had my share of young ones on the ranch tug at my ears. I’m used to it,” Jimin shrugged, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, letting Kai scratch behind his ears easily. “Are you two going out?”

“Ah, yes. I made reservations for us at a place near the theater in town. We’re going to catch a movie after. Laur, I’ll start the car while you say goodbye?” Tyler gave Kai a hair ruffle, waving good-naturedly to everyone in the room. “Thanks for watching him, we really appreciate it!”

There was a squawk coming from Hoseok on the leather recliner when Kai chose to amble towards Seokjin rather than the fox hybrid gesturing wildly, Y/N giggling at Hoseok’s faux-devastated expression. 

“Up!” Kai lifted his arms in the air, staring at Seokjin determinedly with his wide chocolate brown eyes. “Cat!”

Seokjin froze from beside Y/N, who was trying her very best not to laugh at her jaguar hybrid, who looked like he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. 

“It’s okay, Seokjin, you can pick him up,” Laura encouraged, Seokjin tentatively leaning forward, his forearms flexing when he gingerly lifted the child into the air, Kai curling into his lap and the crook of his elbow immediately. “He just likes to snuggle. It’s his nap time right about now, I’ll scoot as soon as his eyes get heavy.”

Y/N had a hard time focusing on anything but Kai nestled in Seokjin’s arms. Subconsciously, Seokjin’s sleek black tail curled around the boy’s lap protectively, soothing purrs vibrating from his chest. The tender expression on Seokjin’s face, one that Y/N was more than used to by now, had her melting into the velvet fabric of the couch. 

“Aw, Jinnie, he likes you, cat,” Hoseok teased, recovering from Kai not choosing him to take his late afternoon nap on. “You’d make a decent dad, huh?”

Seokjin’s purrs grew louder, Y/N chewing on her lip and not missing the very pointed look Seokjin gave her; feline sunset eyes burning– a look that had her heart swelling and something warm blooming in her gut.

“Yeah, I don’t think he knows the word ‘jaguar’ quite yet,” Laura stood and stretched her legs, turning her keen eyes onto Taehyung awkwardly perched on his settee with an old camera to fiddle with, who hadn’t made a peep yet, effectively distracting Y/N. “How's the photography club going, Taehyung? Y/N tells me you’re amazing!”

“O-oh. I don’t know about that… it’s fun, though…” Taehyung couldn’t maintain eye-contact with Laura for more than a few seconds, pulling his threadbare beanie down further over his forehead, but Y/N was relieved that he responded at all. “Thanks for asking, though.”

Laura waved him off with a smile, adjusting her scarf. Y/N texted Laura earlier to tell her she decided to put a hold on her doing conflict resolution at that particular moment. Y/N didn’t think it would be wise to stress Taehyung out even more on top of the legal issues they were caught in the middle of. Besides, with Taehyung being around her more often, especially since his fuckup forgetting Hoseok and Yoongi at the rec center, Y/N had a feeling he was starting to come around again. 

“Okay, I’m going to try and sneak off. He’s a pretty heavy sleeper, so feel free to put on movies or whatever! I should be back here no later than 10,” Laura murmured quietly, Kai’s eyes shut and his small body slumped onto Seokjin’s chest, the jaguar hybrid soothingly rubbing circles on the kid’s back. 

“Wait, Laura,” a voice came from the kitchen, and Yoongi emerged with a large tupperware and was covered in flour and caramel. “Here, take these for later. I have like four more batches on the way.”

“Angel, you’re gonna give us all diabetes. Please relax, take a shower and turn the oven off,” Y/N sighed, getting up to untie the frilly apron Yoongi had been wearing since the sun rose that morning. 

“Don’t listen to her. If you ever start selling these, let me know,” Laura countered, a cookie sticking out of her mouth as she headed towards the front door, her collarbone-length braids swishing as she walked. “See you all soon, have a nice night in!”

Laura shut the front door behind her, and promptly, the new security system chimed as it armed the house, and Namjoon appeared out of nowhere in the foyer to turn the three separate locks with a grunt. 

“Hey Bug, why don’t you come and watch a movie with us? I can tell you’ve been reading all day, your eyes are super watery,” Y/N was in the middle of pushing Yoongi towards the stairs, cringing at the tacky caramel that was clinging to the ends of his long locks. “Yoongi, please go up and shower. If this caramel dries in your hair and I have to cut it I’ll weep for two weeks.”

Mumbling, Yoongi gave her a sugar-sticky kiss on the back of her hand, trudging up the stairs with his tail wrapped around one of his legs– something he did when he was exhausted. Y/N predicted he’d probably fall asleep in his towel on his bed, leaving her to check on and dress him before she retired himself. 

“Don’t you get to pick the movie tonight?” Jeongguk emerged from the kitchen with a cookie in his hand while he addressed Namjoon, crumbs collecting in the corners of his mouth. 

“Ah. I might have to push your night to tomorrow, Joon. Kai, Laura’s son is here, I’m watching him for the night… we should probably put on some kind of cartoon movie,” Y/N passed her palm over Namjoon’s upper arm, the wolf hybrid pushing his blue-light glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know you wanted to watch Blue Velvet tonight. Tomorrow, I promise.”

“I don’t mind, Y/N. I’m probably too tired to understand anything that requires more brain power than Beauty and the Beast,” Namjoon blinked languidly, Y/N noticing the pen ink covering his fingertips. “At least research took my mind off things.”

“Well that’s good! I’d love to see what you’ve found out so far, in the morning over coffee, how does that sound?” Y/N felt the two hybrids follow her back into the living room, Namjoon double-checking the locks on the front door again. 

“I take it that paranormal topics are off-limits while the kid is here,” Jeongguk had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black sweats, so close behind her that his caramel-scented breath wafted over the sensitive skin of her neck.

“I wouldn’t say that. He’s currently asleep on Seokjin’s lap. Just keep it down and if he wakes up, change the subject,” Y/N pointed at Seokjin, who was still in the exact spot she left him in, Kai drooling on his white tee shirt. 

“Well, can I drink? It’s Saturday night, and he’s got seven other babysitters,” Jeongguk lifting a pierced brow and nodding towards the bar cart in the corner of the room. 

“Go nuts. I mean, don’t get whacked or anything. I won’t ask you to play pat-a-cake with him when he wakes up, like you said, he’s got seven other babysitters.”

Grumbling, Jeongguk stalked by Seokjin and Kai, sifting through the bottles of liquor on the cart for his favorite gin. Jimin, while Jeongguk’s back was turned, made a dramatic look of great distaste. The coyote hybrid didn’t approve of drinking around children, even if they were asleep. 

“Let’s go with what you mentioned earlier, Joonie. I think I have Beauty and the Beast in my library somewhere…” Y/N slowly lowered herself beside Seokjin, hoping she wouldn’t jolt Kai awake, Namjoon clumsily copying her movements to land on her free side.

Because Namjoon was such a clutz, it wasn’t often that he was able to snag a spot beside her– he was lucky that Yoongi was still showering shortening off of his body. If Namjoon was uncomfortable that his right arm was pressed firmly against her left and his large frame crammed against the armrest, his expression gave away nothing.

Halfway through the movie, Y/N slightly dozing off on Seokjin’s shoulder, she cracked an eye open to the sound of a shutter going off. Taehyung was on one knee, snapping a picture of Kai on Seokjin’s lap, Y/N realizing that the child had one hand wrapped around Seokjin’s tail, and the other around her pointer finger. Smiling lazily, she was too comfortable to say anything, so she let Taehyung take pictures until he settled back down on the floor to watch the rest of the movie. 

When Laura returned a few hours later, Kai stacking blocks on his mat with Jimin, her cheeks were rosy and several of the hybrids were reluctant to give the toddler back, mainly Jimin and Seokjin.  

“Hmm, maybe I’ll have to drop him off here more often,” Laura held Kai in her arms, the boy’s eyes starting to fill when Jimin began to wave goodbye. 

“We’ll watch him whenever you need!” Seokjin blurted instantly, his cheeks turning pink when he realized how loudly he spoke. Laura simply brightened up, turning to her husband. 

“Maybe we can start having our bi-weekly dates again, if that’s the case,” Laura snickered, Kai calling out for Jimin and ‘Cat’. He wasn’t able to precisely pronounce Seokjin’s name yet, which Hoseok teased him for the entire night. “Alright, it’s past his bedtime. Thanks again, Y/N. I’m buying all of you dinner next time I see you, okay?”

“Night Laura, drive safe,” Y/N waved, choking down a smirk when Namjoon closed the door tightly, the three deadbolts sliding into place smoothly. “Thanks for being good sports tonight, guys!”

“It was fun. He’s a cute kid,” Hoseok was leaning against the door to the basement, where his room was. “I think he was kinda spooked by Goth Bambi, though.”

“The fuck did you just say? I know your dumbass isn’t referring to me,” Jeongguk barked, his tapered ears fluttering furiously. That time, Y/N couldn’t bite back her smirk. “You better lock yourself in your foxhole, motherfucker.”

Hoseok whistled his signature tune, not intimidated in the slightest, quick on his feet to do just that before Jeongguk could even take a step forward. 

“You’re laughing? You’re really laughing. I wiped vomit off your face, kiddo,” Jeongguk crossed his inked arms over his chest, Y/N screwing her mouth shut and eyeing the tiny bumps that were beginning to grow where his antlers once were. Truly, in a few weeks, he’d look exactly like Goth Bambi. 

“That’s good. I’m changing your contact info to that,” Y/N wiped a tear from her eye, pulling her phone from her pocket. 

“I’m blocking your ass,” Jeongguk threatened, sticking his pierced tongue right back out at her when she flashed hers at him first. 

“No you won’t. Who else will watch those Youtube videos about shadow people if not me?” Y/N countered, dodging a flick to her forehead. “It’s late, munchkins. I’m gonna check on Yoongi and head into bed myself. Let’s do something fun tomorrow, since the restraining order is in place.”

“That would be nice, I heard there’s a farmer’s market in the town square in the morning. We should go, Y/N, see if they have potted plants that you wanted for the patio,” Jimin suggested, rubbing his eyes tiredly but his tail still swishing contentedly. 

“Perfect, let’s do it!” Y/N agreed, watching Taehyung slip up the stairs with a glass of water and his headphones on, Jeongguk not far behind him and still bitching about Hoseok’s comment. “Mm. I’m gonna follow him so I can make sure Yoongi’s doing alright. Night Jimin, Joonie!”

Namjoon nodded, beginning his rounds to make sure all the windows and doors were sealed before slipping into his bedroom, while Jimin wished her sweet dreams as he always did. The only one left in the foyer with her was Seokjin, who clasped a hand over her elbow to escort Y/N up the stairs. 

“Yoongi pass out again? He’s really living up to feline stereotypes,” Seokjin joked, shaking blue black waves out of his eyes and slowing down his pace so Y/N could keep up. 

“Mmm? You nap more than he does, Seokjinnie. On the other hand, he gets sort of narcoleptic after a hot shower,” Y/N teased, gaze lingering on the glittery chain dangling from his earlobe– a new earring she hadn’t seen before, one that nearly brushed his jutting collarbone. 

“I guess that’s true… you should nap with me next time, my pretty girl,” Seokjin’s smile was easy, squeezing her midsection for a goodnight hug. 

“Sure thing,” Y/N hummed, regretfully pulling away. “Get some sleep, honey.”

Seokjin saluted her, slinking into his bedroom, and Y/N was trailing through the winding hallways of the second floor to the west tower bedroom where Yoongi slept. His lights were still on, but there was no sound coming from behind the door, so Y/N tip-toed in as quietly as she could. 

Her psychic skills must have been getting stronger by the day, because her leopard hybrid was starfished on his bed in nothing but a towel, his phone tossed beside him. Rolling her eyes playfully, she retrieved pajamas from his dresser, not exactly keen on waking him up, but not wanting him to wake up with a cold from laying in a wet towel all night. 

“Baby, come on. I’ll tuck you in,” Y/N whispered directly into one of his spotted ears, brushing a kiss over one of his eyebrows. The effect was immediate, a grumbly purr coming from the back of Yoongi’s throat, his eyebrows pulling together under her lips and a veined hand shooting out to grab her hip. “I know you’re awake. I got you pajamas, can you sit up for me?”

“Depends. Do I get a kiss?”

“What are you, Sleeping Beauty?” Y/N rolled her eyes again, though pressed a simple kiss to his lower lip anyways. “There. Sit up, please.”

Yoongi did as he was told, looking at her through sleepy, lidded eyes, his hair still slightly damp. Hoping her gulp wasn’t audible, seeing him in just a towel and a silver chain, Y/N held his soft tee shirt and pulled it over his head, his ears popping up adorably through the neck hole. 

“Uh, here. I’ll turn around,” Y/N muttered, tossing his sweats and boxers on his lap, and as soon as possible she spun to face the wall. Yoongi scoffed incredulously, though Y/N refused to turn around.

“Why bother facing the wall?” Yoongi questioned, the coils in his mattress squeaking as he got up. Y/N shuddered when he tossed the towel at her feet, her skin tingling. “It’s not like you haven’t seen my cock before.”

“Yoongi,” Y/N hissed, face hot as an iron. “Just put your pants on!”

“You sure?” 

“Stop being a pervert,” Y/N covered her eyes with her hands, listening for the sounds of the leopard hybrid stepping into the clothing she picked out. “You decent?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Ugh,” Y/N tentatively looked over her shoulder, Yoongi by his nightstand table, plugging in his phone. “Even though you’re a hybrid, sometimes I forget you’re still a man.”

“Can’t help it. Not when my girl is so gorgeous,” Yoongi shrugged, collapsing on his bed. “You sleeping in here?” 

“How do I know you won’t seduce me?” Y/N crossed her arms, tsking. “There’s a few things I wanna do before I go to sleep. Tomorrow night, okay, angel?”

Yoongi humphed, rolling over on his side to face away from her. Chuckling, she shut off his lamp, making sure he was tucked in. Exchanging ‘I love yous’, Y/N left his room, creeping down to her own bedroom. After a quick shower, she lit a candle on her bedside table, settling in for a meditation session to keep her nerves in check before passing out face-down, hopefully dreamlessly. 

Sunday morning, Y/N decided to take Jimin’s advice to check out the early spring farmer’s market in the town square, just so everyone could get some fresh air and scenery. With all eight of them loaded up into the Land Cruiser, the trunk full of reusable bags for produce, and sunny pop music on, the general mood was lighter than it had been in quite some time.

It was almost April, small buds dotting all of the trees around the shops, a clean, floral scent in the air. That morning, she was actually able to have her coffee outside due to how pleasant the temperature was, while Namjoon offered her a thick stack of notes he had taken on the bed and breakfast they were going to investigate– apparently called the George Parkman House. Not having too much time to leaf through the packet the wolf hybrid complied, considering the farmer’s market ended at noon and it would be a miracle to get Hoseok up and ready before then, she elected to discuss specifics with the two of them when they got back. 

With the coming of spring, there were several things to think about, not just a potential lawsuit that was a dark cloud in their lives. Taehyung’s important spring expo was coming up, there was a basketball tournament Yoongi was coaching and participating in, and she’d be spending more time than ever in the backyard garden. Jimin offered to give her more riding lessons, which she couldn’t turn down. Lastly, she had to have a conversation with Seokjin about their upcoming trip to New York, since the date they planned to go was coming up fast. Recalling it from yesterday morning, she gripped her steering wheel tightly and tried to ignore Namjoon side-eyeing her.  

“Pretty, can we talk?” Seokjin appeared timid, his strong eyebrows bunching together. 

“What about?” Y/N put the rake down that she was holding, tending to the herb garden with her jaguar hybrid. In the distance, she could hear Jimin taking one of the horses for a jaunt around the trails, hooves clomping down on the damp grass. 

“Our trip to visit Hannah. I think it should wait, we can reschedule for May or something,” Seokjin scratched behind one of his ears, placing a clump of weeds in the compost bin he dragged over earlier. “Until we sort out this legal situation. Besides…”

“Besides?” Y/N encouraged, leaning into one of his strong shoulders and enjoying the sun on her face. She found the little things kept her spirits up, those days. 

“Um… remember how I said that in April it might be…”

“Oh!” Y/N straightened up, the tips of her ears burning. She hadn’t thought about anything remotely sexual in days, so she had completely forgotten about Seokjin’s apparent upcoming rut. 

“Y-yeah. That. I don’t want to be away from home when it happens, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is, Seokjin. Anything you need or anything I can prepare, let me know,” Y/N held onto his hand seriously, pushing aside bashfulness in order to assure him. 

“Uh. Well, the others. What are we going to do about them? I’m not sure how long it’ll last, and. Hybrids need privacy during their ruts, especially mated ones.”

Y/N paused, eyes going round, soaking in every inch of Seokjin’s gorgeous face. Did he just imply…

“What about that building, there? You think we could stay there?” Seokjin pointed off into the distance with a crooked finger, Y/N’s heart beating out of her chest between the statement he made still sinking in and the way he was speaking so nonchalantly. 

Following the line of his finger when her thoughts were interrupted, she spotted the small guesthouse by the pond, the one she had yet to renovate into the movie room for them to hang out in during the summer months. The rounded building, equipped with a first floor made up of a space to sit, a kitchenette, and a tiny bathroom, the second floor a simple loft, would be a pretty good isolated space away from other ears. It solved Seokjin’s desire to stay home, but have enough privacy. Prior to even considering that guesthouse, she toyed with the idea of getting a hotel room, but she knew Seokjin wouldn’t be keen on that. The guesthouse seemed like the best option. 

“I… I’d need to make a few improvements on it in the next week or so, and clean it out. But I think that’ll work,” Y/N replied quietly, her skin still on fire. Should she bring up the fact that he might have referred to her as his mate? Before she could open her mouth, Seokjin spoke again. 

“Okay, that makes me feel better,” Seokjin’s broad shoulders relaxed down several inches, offering her a broad smile. “Don’t be nervous, pretty. It’s just me.”

“Mmm, I know,” Y/N muttered, his playful remark not doing much to quell her embarrassment. It was like Seokjin had never even looked in the mirror– he was telling her not to be nervous he’d be all over her for several days? “I’ll get it ready this week. I’m taking some time off of work anyways, to make sure Ben settles everything and to prepare for the new case Joon and Jeongguk and I will be tackling in the near future.”

Seokjin placed a silly, loud smooch on the apple of her cheek, returning to his task of weeding around the lavender plants, Y/N willing to place a bet that he had a sly smirk on his face. In retaliation, she reached up to teasingly tickle one of his rounded black ears, a choppy hiss dissolving into a purr at the contact.

Swallowing nervously at the memory, Y/N focused on the daffodils studding the sidewalks of the cute town square she was driving through. Hoseok was whistling to the song ‘Where Is My Mind’, the fox hybrid in shorts– he was one of those guys, as soon as the weather was above 50 degrees, he considered it to be summer. Meanwhile, his best friend next to him was bundled up like there was a blizzard raging outside of the car; Seokjin swaddled in his lilac puffer jacket. Y/N tossed a middle finger into the backseat while Jeongguk was taunting her about her parallel parking skills (it did take her three times to get it right), but once the car was stationary, everyone was eagerly getting out into the sunshine. 

“Which way do we go?” Hoseok was bouncing on the soles of his running sneakers, energy coming off of him in infection waves, one of his arms hooked around Seokjin’s elbow. Seokjin didn’t seem to mind, his nose in the air as he caught the scent of fresh-baked pie in the distance. 

“Just take a right up this block, there’s a grassy field where the tents are set up,” Y/N pointed, helping Jimin take the bags out of the trunks. “You guys can go ahead, just um. Use the buddy system, okay?”

“Does that mean I’m stuck with Mr. Happy?” Yoongi mumbled into Y/N’s ear, glancing at Taehyung, who was taking pictures of the decaying brick of a storefront a few yards away. 

“Well, he likes you the most,” Y/N pointed out, mussing Yoongi’s hair and hoping he’d be a good sport. 

“Alright. This is me making things up to you, when I chewed him out a while ago,” Yoongi trudged away, using two fingers to motion for Taehyung to follow him down the block. Naturally, Namjoon and Jeongguk stuck together, so that made Jimin her buddy. 

“What kind of flowers will last under harsh sun, do you think?” Y/N mused, knowing that Jimin had spent a few months learning about botany ever since he began focusing on the garden and landscaping the backyard. 

“Cacti,” Jimin replied dryly with a twinkle in his yellow eyes, Y/N blinking at his joke. “Kidding, that would look odd. We’re not in Arizona. Asters will look pretty on the patio, don’t you think? They sort of look like purple daisies.”

“Love it. Maybe some petunias, too. They’re my Grandmother’s favorites, she’d love to see them around the house again,” Y/N rounded the corner with Jimin close to her side, his clean lavender scent tickling her nose as a cool breeze rolled by.

As soon as the corner was cleared, they were in a medium-sized, festive green field. Multicolored awnings covering stalls was the first thing she noticed, then children of various heights running around merrily. There was a bearded man with a banjo and a microphone singing in the center of the field, elderly people milling around and haggling prices. Lungs filled with lovely early April air, she hooked a finger in the belt loop of Jimin’s blue jeans, tugging him forward excitedly. With a canine whimper of surprise, he stumbled after her.

Y/N made a beeline for the first stall she saw– one that sold windchimes that made beautiful trilling sounds. Before she could get too carried away, she visually located everyone else; Taehyung and Yoongi were watching the performer, the former taking a photo of the show. Jeongguk and Namjoon had managed to find the only booth that sold crystals and occult oddities, while Hoseok and Seokjin appeared to be making a lap around the field before lingering anywhere in particular.

“Oh, look, Y/N! This one is made from driftwood and seaglass. Since our town is by the ocean, don’t you think this would look nice on the patio?” Jimin pointed to a wind chime hanging from one of the poles of the tent they were under, the seaglass pretty shades of aqua and jade. 

“It’s gorgeous, should we get it?”

“I think so. This one, too, is really nice. Looks old-timey, like our house,” Jimin gestured to another piece with fragile looking cloudy glass.

“That one there I made from recycled glass bottles from the Victorian era. I found the bottles around my property and thought I could repurpose them,” the middle-aged woman who ran the booth explained to them with a proud smile, folding her work-roughened hands on the table in front of her. 

“It’s beautiful. We live in a Victorian, it would look perfect on our front porch,” Y/N ran her finger over the hanging glass pieces to hear how it sounded: clear and pure. “Can we take both, please?”

“I’ll wrap them up while you two enjoy the other booths, thank you!” The woman began taking the two wind chimes down, Y/N reaching for Jimin’s calloused hand so they could continue taking in the sights.

“Did you notice Namjoon has already picked up a mini cherry pie?” Jimin snorted, Y/N able to easily find Namjoon in the throngs of people because of his taller-than-average height. 

Namjoon must have heard his name across the field, because his head whipped around, a pie in his hand and jam smeared over his thick lips. Shushing Jimin’s giggles while trying to suppress her own, she dragged the coyote hybrid to the next few stalls. She picked up knicknacks here and there, as well as some veggies to cook up for dinner.

The last booth they visited before sitting on the grass to enjoy some of the folk performance was filled with the kind of potted plants they were looking for. The farmer informed them that the flowers could be delivered to their home, which saved Jimin from having to haul them back to the SUV.

“He has such a nice voice,” Jimin commented, a note of jealousy coloring his tone. Y/N nudged him with her shoulder, crossing her legs and feeling grass tickle her bare ankles.

“I’m sure your voice is nicer, Jimin. I mean, your speaking voice is melodic and pretty, why wouldn’t it be?” Y/N cocked her head, wondering if he ever sang around a campfire with his friends on the ranch or if she was stereotyping ranchers.

“You flatter me,” Jimin whispered into her ear, the hybrid’s face peach pink. “I guess I can carry a tune.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime, huh? Yoongi can accompany you,” Y/N grinned, Jimin raking his fingers through his blonde hair. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. Even if I am serious.”

Moments blended into one another, her and Jimin enjoying a container of cut fruit together, his bushy tail occasionally batting her lower back when he’d hear new noises like a child squealing or cars passing by. Y/N took a moment to study Jimin’s side profile while he was occupied by the show. 

Jimin’s easygoing nature set her at ease completely. There was something about feeling so safe around him, in a different way from Namjoon. Namjoon was intense, territorial, and physically protective, which was certainly comforting to have, particularly in dangerous situations. However, Jimin was more quietly protective, which was due to his abundance of empathy. If one needed to be comforted, Jimin knew exactly how to do it.

“Hey, Jimin,” Y/N tugged on his cargo jacket sleeve, capturing his attention with a curious flop to his ear. “Thank you for keeping me sane these past few days. For staying so upbeat. Don’t think it hasn’t gone unnoticed by me. It’s okay to be nervous about everything in front of me, too, you don’t have to hide your feelings.”

Jimin stared at her with his alarmingly vibrant eyes, processing her words. Usually, Jimin was easy to read, but not at that moment. Sighing with a tiny smile, he picked up one of Y/N’s hands, patting the back of it.

“My dad always told me that worrying about something before it happens is to suffer twice. I know we’re in capable hands with Ben, and I know that you’ll do anything in your power to keep us out of harm’s way, Y/N. I’m not worried because I know we aren’t going anywhere. I can feel it. As for staying ‘upbeat’...”

Jimin’s gaze shifted around the farmer’s market, locating each of the hybrids he lived with, occupied with looking at various wares of their choosing. Free.

“All we ever wanna do is make you smile, Y/N. Make you as happy as you’ve made us.”

“Hey, you. What are you thinking about that has you in a catatonic state?” Jeongguk was annoyingly snapping his fingers in Y/N’s face, Y/N catching one of his fingers in her grasp with narrowed eyes. A zodiac symbol was tattooed on one of the knuckles. 

“Yoongi’s chili,” Y/N fibbed, when actually she had Jimin’s voice bouncing around in her skull. She was still trying to dissect the moment shared with him– was the tenderness in his voice something she made up, or did Jimin sound… lovestruck? “Why do you have this sign tattooed on your knuckle? You’re a Virgo.”

“I have all of the zodiac signs somewhere on my hands or arms. They all have their uses,” Jeongguk leaned back in his seat, kicking his feet up on the van’s breakfast table. “When do you think we can get started on this investigation?”

“As soon as I get an update from Ben about you-know-what, I’ll take that as a green light to focus on this fully,” Y/N gestured to the packet of handwritten notes Namjoon gave her. Speaking of the devil, he rested his hip against the kitchenette counter, waiting patiently to start a productive conversation about the building and its history. “Joonie, wanna give me a run-down on the bed and breakfast’s past?”

Straightening out importantly, Namjoon rolled up the sleeves to his thin button down. 

“The property is on Beacon Hill in Boston, facing the Boston Common. It belonged to a member of an elite class at the time– a Boston Brahmin– by the name of George Parkman, hence the name of the building. He was a successful surgeon that graduated from Harvard, and used his skills around Massachusetts during the War of 1812.

But, the guy ended up being murdered. He went missing one afternoon while he was collecting debts in 1849. A Harvard professor by the name of John White Webster killed Parkman in a lab, dismembered the body, and incinerated the body in a furnace. What’s interesting about the trial, however, is that it was the first trial to use dental records and forensics to make a conviction.”

“Jesus,” Y/N gritted her teeth at the gruesome details, but was also very attracted to Namjoon’s intelligence. “So Parkman wasn’t murdered in his home, but in a lab at Harvard?”

“Yeah, but apparently the poor bastard haunts his old house. Spirits work in mysterious ways. To be murdered so brutally and abruptly, sometimes human spirits don’t even know they’re dead. That could be the case, here,” Jeongguk picked his nails, lip ring sucked into his mouth.

“So, you’re not getting any demonic vibes?” Namjoon drawled sarcastically, his sharpened canines flashing. 

“Well, no. Not from what we’ve gathered so far. This could be just a simple haunting, maybe Parkman’s just agitated and confused as to why there are so many random people in his house, if he doesn’t know he’s dead yet. Judy’s email mentioned the manager brought in a quack group of investigators that stirred shit up. They probably instigated Parkman into being even angrier, which caused the uptick in activity. Just my guess, though. I’d have to physically be there to feel it out,” Jeongguk responded calmly, itching around his new antlers beginning to grow. 

“Didn’t you instigate at the Sanders’?” Namjoon probed further, Jeongguk rolling his eyes to the sky. 

“That was different, that was a demonic haunting. Provoking human spirits is just sad and pathetic. Usually you can get rid of them or help them out with simple EVP,” Jeongguk enunciated like he was talking to a five-year-old. Y/N counted it as a miracle Namjoon hadn’t knocked Jeongguk’s block off yet. 

“Was there anything else that was reported besides the apparition of George Parkman, Y/N?” Namjoon ignored Jeongguk, his teeth drawing beads of blood to his lower lip so he wouldn’t say something uncouth to the elk hybrid. 

“Not that Judy mentioned in her email, just general hostile and creepy energy. Jeongguk is probably right, the spirit of Parkman may just be angry that he was provoked. I don’t think we’ll have to return as many times as we did with the Sanders’ case, unless there are surprises waiting for us.”

“It is a pretty large building, though. It might be easier if we split up, during the investigation,” Jeongguk pointed out. 

“That’s fine–”

“No.”

Y/N and Namjoon spoke at the same time, the wolf hybrid firmly cutting her off with immediate disagreement. That familiar, calculative glint in Namjoon’s eyes hardened his softer features, Y/N’s mouth drying up.

“Would you rather be there for six hours, or three, wolf? There’s one of us for each floor.”

“Would you rather get socked in the face when I have to carry Y/N out of the building god forbid something unpredictable happens, or stay together the whole time? This isn’t up for discussion. We won’t split up.”

“Wasn’t aware this was a dictatorship, not a democracy,” Jeongguk muttered under his breath, but did not argue with Namjoon any further. Namjoon’s stern, unquestionable dominance had Y/N squirming in her seat. “Whatever, we’ll stay together. Lighten up, wolf. Where’s that thing we got at the market this morning?”

Namjoon’s jaw slowly began to unclench, reaching backwards for a little bag behind him on the kitchenette. Gingerly, he dumped the contents of the bag on the table in front of Y/N and Jeongguk, the elk hybrid moving his combat boots off the surface and sitting up straight. The receipt fluttered to the carpeted floor, and whatever was in the bag made a clattering noise then it hit the table. Vision focusing, Y/N stared at the items with confusion. 

In front of her were three antique rings, all identical. Made of dark, pounded silver, each ring had a rough-hewn green stone set in the center. Picking one up, Y/N looked closely, the window beside her illuminating the green stone and making it shimmer. 

“Peridot rings. They’re supposed to be especially protective around spirits. The woman at the farmer’s market recommended them,” Namjoon went from predator to sweetheart in a matter of seconds, the tips of his ears turning red. “One for each of us.”

“Matching rings! Cute!” Y/N couldn’t help herself, sliding the ring on the fourth finger of her right hand. “So pretty. And functional! Thank you guys, this is really sweet.”

Swallowing back laughter at the sight of the two of them, ears turned back in embarrassment while they put their own rings on, they copied her by wearing them on the same finger. Y/N froze while she was admiring the rings on their fingers– Jeongguk had her sun sign tattooed on the very same digit. Struck again by the cosmic connection she had to each hybrid of hers, Y/N twisted the ring around her finger a few times, clearing her throat. 

“Okay, so should we start making a list of things we gotta bring to this investigation?”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Yoongi watched Y/N carefully as she mixed up 8 different cocktails that night, one that was unique to each individual in the house. His tail was flicking back and forth in sharp shapes, something it did when he was on the edge of disapproval. 

“No, I took some time off this week. You can probably guess why,” Y/N replied, sliding his cocktail across the island for him: Hennessy, soda water, and a lemon slice. “We might as well cheers.”

“Hell yeah!” Hoseok waltzed in doing a moonwalk, fresh from the shower. His auburn hair appeared even darker red when it was wet, flashing Y/N a grin when he located his simple rum-and-coke. “Nothing like getting hammered while waiting for a shoe to drop!”

“I wish you’d grow a filter,” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, Y/N not caring in the slightest. She liked that Hoseok said whatever popped into his mind. “Where is everyone?”

“Probably upstairs. You didn’t check your phone? I suggested a game night in the billiard’s room. We can play pool, I set up the card table for poker, I even have Candy Land. There’s darts, too, but I don’t know if I trust Jeongguk not to throw one at Hoseok.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Hoseok took a hearty swig of his cocktail, pushing up the sleeves of his dark green crewneck sweatshirt. “Goth Bambi~”

Hoseok sang off-key, scampering from the bar cart and dashing up the stairs to push Jeongguk’s buttons. Shaking her head, Y/N started loading up a tray with the drinks, and a separate one with bottles in case anyone wanted a top-off. 

“Can you get the bottles, angel?” Y/N’s voice was strained, trying extremely hard not to spill the six cocktails balanced on the tray in her arms. Easily, Yoongi scooped it up, Y/N envious of his hybrid strength and feline grace. “Show off.”

The billiard’s room was connected to the music room via a ‘secret door’, one that was disguised as a bookshelf. The door was closed more often than not to keep everything sufficiently soundproof while the piano was being played or Taehyung had the turntable going. With the bookcase open, going from room to room was a breeze. Navigating into the area carefully, the thick scent of leather invaded her nostrils, thanks to the massive sofas lining the room. It was a large space, about the size of the kitchen directly below it, filled with tabletop games, card tables, a minibar, and a TV that her cousins used to use for sports games.

“If he calls me Goth Bambi one more time,” Jeongguk approached her quickly, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and swiped his gin and tonic from the tray. 

Y/N told him it was the only room in the house he could smoke in, as long as the windows were cracked. After all, her grandfather had a shelf of cigars in the corner he used to smoke and show off to his friends, back in the day. It would be a shame for him not to use the vintage ashtrays and table lighters. 

“Play nice,” Y/N warned, placing Seokjin’s chilled glass of white wine near the pool table, where Yoongi was showing him how to set up the balls. “Give this to Joon, okay?”

Handing Jeongguk a small tumbler of whiskey, identical to the one she poured for Jimin, Jeongguk scoffed and returned to Namjoon, who was inquisitively staring at the poker table. Over the past few months, Namjoon was able to steadily increase his tolerance for alcohol, and found that he liked the same whiskey as the coyote hybrid the most. The shared preference made her smile. 

She left the remaining two drinks– Jimin’s whiskey and Taehyung’s glass of Cabernet– on the minibar. The former was still in the shower after a long afternoon of exercising the horses, and the latter, last Y/N heard from him, was wrapping up something in his darkroom. Y/N still wasn’t sure that he’d accept her ‘game night’ invitation, but because he hadn’t been hiding away lately, she let herself get her hopes up carelessly. 

When Jimin and Taehyung ended up traipsing in, both of them appeared shocked by the rowdiness. Not that anyone was drunk yet, but everyone felt like it was okay to let loose made for a merry atmosphere. Y/N recruited Jimin to be on her team playing pool against Seokjin and Yoongi, which was sort of evil of her considering Jimin had once told her he used to hustle people at pool halls in Montana. Seokjin and Yoongi didn’t have to know that, though. 

Taehyung took up the task of going back and forth to the music room to switch out records when they ran out. To Y/N’s hazy surprise, it seemed like he was actually bartending, too, which had her feeling like she should check outside to see if pigs were soaring through the air. Either that, or he was trying to liquor everyone up so the other hybrids wouldn’t be so stiff around him. 

At the other end of the game room, Namjoon, Jeongguk, and Hoseok were caught in the middle of an intense darts battle. Hoseok’s shouts mingled with Jeongguk’s, and the more liquor the two of them consumed, the louder they got. Y/N wasn’t worried about an actual fight breaking out, considering Hoseok would win one round, and then Jeongguk would win the next– it was only poor Namjoon who failed to win a single round due to either his clumsiness or poor aim. He tapped out after the fourth round in favor of watching the game of pool, which was much less intense but still entertaining to witness. 

“Wow, you guys suck,” Yoongi took a sip of his drink, pointing his pool cue at Jimin and Y/N, Y/N stepping on Jimin’s foot after their third loss. Time to reveal the hustler.

“Ugh. Maybe it’s just me. Joonie, jump in for me? I wanna get some fresh air, it’s hot in here.”

Namjoon stood, wobbling on his feet a little, tossing back the last of his whiskey before surprisingly accepting the pool cue from Y/N. 

“But I’ve never played,” Namjoon muttered, mystified when Jimin offered cue chalk to him. 

“You’ll catch on. Aren’t you some kind of genius?” Yoongi raised a brow, Seokjin’s squeaky laugh sounding on the tipsy side.

 Namjoon huffed, embarrassed, Y/N walking past Taehyung who was shuffling a deck of cards, and Jeongguk refilling his drink. The only one unaccounted for was Hoseok, who Y/N assumed was in the bathroom. Humming, she ambled down the hall to one of the bedrooms that didn’t belong to one of the boys in search of a balcony to sneak a cigarette on. Not that she’d be able to hide the scent, but she’d handle that later.

Finding the creamsicle orange unclaimed bedroom, the space smelling like fresh paint still, Y/N stumbled when she saw that the balcony door was open already, someone standing outside and leaning over the railing on their forearms. Eyes adjusting, she studied the shape of the ears protruding from the figure’s crown, an eyebrow lifting.

“What are you doing out here, social butterfly? Battery drained?” Y/N stepped out onto the balcony, Hoseok’s fluffy auburn hair finally dried. 

“No, no. Just licking my wounds,” Hoseok kept his gaze on the moon, his nose twitching when Y/N stood close to him. “Jeongguk kicked my ass at darts.”

“Sorry to hear. That’ll give him a chip on his shoulder,” Y/N snickered, the fox hybrid’s shoulders shaking but his usual boisterous laugh inaudible. “Is something up? You’re quiet.”

“Nah, it’s nothing, darling.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing, Foxy.”

“Shit doesn’t get by you, huh?” Hoseok shook his head, swirling the remnants of his rum-and-coke around in his glass contemplatively. “Jus’ thinking about that guy.”

“What guy–” Y/N was confused for a moment, but the look on Hoseok’s face had it all flooding back. “Oh. Harold Bass.”

“Yeah, him or whatever. I try to keep it outta sight outta mind, but I don’t know. I guess I have some abandonment issues to sort out, or whatever you call it.”

“That’s understandable,” Y/N responded softly, her heart breaking. “I’m sorry this is happening, honey. I wish I could just make it go away.”

“I know you do,” Hoseok sighed, bumping his hip against hers. “I mean, this situation sucks, but it’s bringing back shit I should probably get to the root of.”

“What do you mean? If you don’t mind sharing, of course,” Y/N asked, forgetting all about a cigarette. “You can use me as a sounding board, if you want.”

Hoseok managed a chuckle, ruffling Y/N’s hair like she was a little kid. 

“Back when I was young, that wolf hybrid ruined a potential adoption for me. Remember when I told you that?”

“Uh-huh. Fucker.”

“Pretty much,” Hoseok agreed, draining the rest of his glass. “I guess that sort of changed how I look at adoptions afterwards. From then on, I’d ruin every adoption attempt for myself on purpose. I just didn’t want… how do I put this. I think I didn’t want to accept the possibility that I could be adopted and then discarded. That shit happens all the time to fox hybrids, most people don’t trust them. So I wanted to eliminate that possibility entirely.”

Hoseok took a breath, eyes still on the moon. Y/N just listened, the way Hoseok’s jaw was pulsing told her he wasn’t quite finished. 

“But when you adopted me, I couldn’t do anything about it. Gerry’s wasn’t like a normal shelter, there were no interviews or meetings beforehand, and besides, I was shifted,” Hoseok seemingly braced himself, gripping the balcony’s ledge. “Part of me was relieved because you seemed harmless, but another part of me was wondering if you would break my heart. I prepared for the worst– that you’d dump me back at that shelter after a few days, once you reality sunk in and you didn’t like my personality. I don’t know. All this stuff is just coming back.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. Hoseok grimaced, tapping his fingers along the balcony railing, his muscles taut when Y/N slipped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. The fabric of his sweatshirt was saturated with his woodsy, natural scent, Y/N nearly purring when she breathed it in. The fox hybrid relaxed, Y/N feeling his tail brush between her legs, and she looked up at the moon with him. 

“Even if I didn’t love your personality, which I do love, I wouldn’t have brought you back there. But I understand why your mind went there. Years of thinking a certain way can be tricky to let go of,” Y/N squeezed his trim waist, still focused on the moon. “But let’s start here. I won’t abandon you, not ever. When your thoughts go in that direction, remember that simple truth.”

There was silence, nothing but the wind blowing through the willow branches in the backyard. Hoseok exhaled shakily, his throat clogging up when he tried to formulate a response. Never quite at a loss for words, Hoseok’s voice came out as a rasp.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re sort of like my favorite person ever.”

Hoseok internally cringed, unable to believe that was the best he could come up with, managing to peel his back from Y/N’s chest and turn to face her sheepishly. There was a look of surprise that flashed across her features before she recovered smoothly, poking the crater above the corner of his mouth.

“I think you’re sort of like my favorite fox hybrid ever, Hoseok. No, actually, I know you are, sunshine,” Y/N captured his hand, tangling their fingers together. Hoseok had an odd fluttering sensation in his gut, Y/N tugging him back towards the house. “Hey. You ever play poker?”

“Huh?” Hoseok spluttered, the change in subject taking him off guard though not particularly in an unwelcome way. “You gonna teach me?”

“I’ll show you a few tricks. You gotta get back at Jeongguk, after all.”

Hoseok realized quickly what Y/N was doing– cheerily letting things go so he wouldn’t wallow for the rest of the night. Hoseok didn’t like to beat dead horses, preferring to bounce back as quickly as he could. A part of him wondered if Y/N had figured that out about him, and was attempting to prevent him from standing on a metaphorical ledge. Tightening his hold on her small hand in his, Hoseok let her lead him into the light.

“Clever girl,” Hoseok praised, smirking at the way Y/N stumbled over her own feet. “You deal. I don’t trust him to shuffle correctly.”

 “I can’t believe this thing works,” Y/N muttered, sliding bottle of water after bottle into the vintage minifridge. 

The morning after game night, she decided to stock up the guest house for anything her and Seokjin might… need. She started with the obvious; snacks and drinks, comfortable bedding, towels and whatnot. Y/N didn’t know where to go from there, once all of Seokjin’s favorite snacks were in place, worrying her lower lip when she sunk down onto the loveseat across from the kitchenette. Too shy to ask Seokjin for any additional information about his rut, Y/N turned to the internet instead. Her main concern was somehow letting Seokjin down– whether it was her being unable to keep up with him, or not knowing enough about being able to take care of him. 

“Ugh, Reddit. Staying away from those mouth breathers,” Y/N scoffed to herself, scrolling through her cursory Google search of ‘hybrid ruts with human partners’. Y/N clicked on a link, gnawing on her nails as the page loaded. “Medical journal. Promising.”

Ruts or heats are a natural cycle that all hybrids experience when they reach sexual maturity. For years, the cycle can be managed by the hybrid alone, but this can change when a hybrid has a romantic partner, and drastically change if they claim a mate. 

For hybrids that choose to spend a cycle with a partner that’s a human, a few things need to be considered by that human. First, contacting their doctor for supplements is essential. Supplements provided will ensure the human gets enough vitamins, increase their stamina, and trigger similar symptoms that their hybrid counterpart experiences during their cycle. These supplements should be taken for two weeks prior to the hybrid’s cycle. 

It is important for the human to remember that ruts or heats heighten animalistic instinct in a hybrid. The purpose of the cycle is to breed or be bred, and the hybrid will attempt to do so successfully. Of course, when birth control is used, this can be avoided– but nonetheless, the baser instincts of the hybrid will think of nothing but reproduction. Humans should make sure they are using birth control during the cycle if pregnancy is undesired. 

The cycle will heighten the temperature of the hybrid’s blood, so they may appear feverish, much like when they need to scent. This is normal and not something to be concerned about. Having plenty of ventilation in the room is necessary, as is enough water or electrolyte drinks. Items that bring your hybrid comfort are recommended to have around the area, such as blankets, sentimental objects, or their favorite movies. 

Finally, limit interruptions if possible. While the purpose of the cycle is reproduction, it is a deeply intimate time to the hybrid. Their partner is the only thing that matters to them, and interaction with others could warrant possessive and even dangerous behavior towards the person who interrupts. Privacy is a priority to most hybrids, so make arrangements to avoid interruption. 

“Sweet Jesus,” Y/N’s heart was racing, still processing the words ‘breed or be bred’. 

On top of that, it would be somewhat of an awkward conversation to have with her doctor to get the supplements, but she’d have to get them right away. Seokjin’s rut was fast approaching, and she only had about three weeks to fill the prescription and begin to take them. However, the thought of the supplements augmenting her stamina to keep up with Seokjin was immediately comforting. 

Thinking she did all she could at the moment, Y/N called her doctor as she headed back towards the house, focusing on admiring the dandelions studding the grass rather than the odd conversation about the supplements. The kitchen was eerily empty, Y/N growing suspicious until she remembered her dad swung by earlier to take the boys to their dental appointments. With a sigh, she prayed to the sky none of them had any issues with their teeth, wondering how to keep herself entertained until everyone was home.

Deciding to do some housework, Y/N hauled her ass upstairs to throw a load of laundry in. However, when she got to the top of the stairs, she paused by Taehyung’s dark room. There was a large stack of frames wrapped in paper, Y/N able to tell that they were the portraits Taehyung took months ago. He must have been able to take them home for Y/N, which she had begged him to many times. Reflecting on what exactly made him want to bring them home then, she abandoned her quest to put laundry away in Jeongguk’s room in favor of a quick DIY project. 

“Where the fuck did I put that hammer?” Y/N sucked in her cheeks, rummaging around in the supply closet for what she needed. Cursing again when she bumped her hip against a step ladder, she shook off the pain and located a box of nails on the shelf. Singing a tune, Y/N methodically unwrapped the portraits, grinning at the one of Jimin. “Oh, he’s so cute.”

Luckily, she remembered the order that Taehyung had originally arranged the photographs during the particular expo he displayed them, so she decided to copy his vision and hang them that way. The wall in between the music room and the dark room was large enough for her to put all nine of the frames, so she started mapping out the spots with a stray pencil. With a grunt, she placed the picture of the house in the center, making sure it wasn’t crooked. Getting lost in the task, Y/N’s heart felt full as she admired the photos of her boys. When she was halfway through the process, the front door downstairs banged open, Y/N cringing.

“Motherfucker,” Y/N pictured Jeongguk blasting through the door like he always did, not giving a flying fuck about the antique stained glass. “I’m up here if anyone is looking!”

“I heard the ‘motherfucker’ remark,” Jeongguk, predictably, barreled up the stairs in his heavy combat boots. “Namjoon had a cavity. Can you stop filling him up on the pastries now?”

“Oh no, is he okay? Did he get it filled?” Y/N panicked, setting the portrait of Hoseok down urgently. 

“I’m fine,” Namjoon appeared on the stairs, rubbing his jaw with a slight pout. “Hurt.”

“Sorry, Joon Bug,” Y/N frowned, Jeongguk helping her out by hanging the portrait that was up high. “There’s Advil in my room if you need it.” Namjoon did, in fact, need it. He disappeared with a swish of a tail, Jeongguk snickering at him. 

“Need help screwing your piercings back in?” Y/N decided to test the waters and be bold, Jeongguk blinking stupidly as soon as the words left her mouth. Appearing like he was attempting to recover, Jeongguk cleared his throat, an eyebrow lifted. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jeongguk replied, crossing his inked arms over his chest. “I think I can manage myself, doll.”

“Suit yourself,” Y/N shrugged, going back to hanging Hoseok’s portrait on the wall. “I’ll be here in case you change your mind, Bambi.”

“You–” Jeongguk spluttered, taken aback by her blatant, flirtatious banter. “You know what? Fine. Gonna shower, see you at dinner.”

“Mm-hmm…”

Hearing him stalk away, a nail in her mouth, Y/N smirked to herself. Maybe her game wasn’t so bad after all.

“Oh, you’re–” A new voice met her ears, Y/N peering over her shoulder curiously. Not that she had to guess who was speaking, his voice distinct and instantly recognizable to her. “You’re putting them up? Here?”

Taehyung, in an oversized jean jacket and cargo pants, was gawking at the photographs, wringing his hands together. His hair was so curly and wild that afternoon that it completely disguised his rounded ears. 

“Yeah, you didn’t tell me you brought these home! I was so excited to see them when I came up here to do laundry,” Y/N hung up the last portrait, Jimin’s, and fondly ran her fingers over the curves of the coyote hybrid’s face. “Is the spot I chose okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Taehyung approached her slowly, like he was approaching a crocodile or something. “You put them up like I did.”

“Uh-huh. I think I got the order right, but feel free to correct me. Ah, they look so good. I love these so much,” Y/N gushed, unthinkingly passing her hand over Taehyung’s back. He didn’t flinch away, thankfully, but he was blinking rapidly at the contact. “My handsome boys… ugh, it looks perfect. New favorite part of the house.”

“You like them that much?”

“Like them? I love them! How could I not?” Y/N snorted, booping Namjoon’s nose through the glass frame. “You’re talented, Tae. Besides, these pictures are all of the important people in my life. There was a reason I was begging you to bring these home for months.”

Taehyung was staring at her analytically, his straight eyelashes brushing his cheekbone. Y/N didn’t notice that he was staring, however, too busy admiring the portraits. His heart ached when he realized that Y/N actually remembered how he hung the frames at the Christmas expo, and took enough care to replicate it on their wall at home.  

“Sorry I didn’t bring them home sooner, Y/N,” Taehyung murmured, finally snagging her attention when he called her name. “Thank you for putting them up.”

“Ah, don’t apologize. Just promise me you’ll always bring your pieces home so I can display them,” Y/N glanced up at him, struck by how beautiful he was all of a sudden. She missed him. 

“Okay, I promise,” Taehyung whispered, using an index finger to cross over his heart. The action was playful, in stark contrast to the morose way he had been carrying himself for weeks. Patting his back once more, Y/N scooped up the nails and hammer to shove back into the supply closet. 

“Y/N, I can’t find the Advil,” Namjoon shouted from downstairs, a slight whine in his voice. 

“Be down in a second, Bug,” Y/N snorted, picturing his frustrated pout. “What do you feel like for dinner, Tae?”

“You’re asking me?” Taehyung was confused, adjusting the collar of his flannel nervously. 

“Well, yeah. You want some takeout? Or anything in particular I can make?” 

“Um… Thai food?” Taehyung spoke very slowly, Y/N cocking her head curiously. 

“Do you want Thai food or are you just suggesting it because it’s my favorite, Tae?” Y/N teased, surprise flashing over his face. 

“No, no, I like it too! I swear!” Taehyung put his hands up, Y/N giggling at his defense. “Or if nobody wants that… Korean food?”

“Let’s go with that. I could definitely tear up some kimchi jjigae,” Y/N cheered, somehow knowing that that was what Taehyung really wanted. “Alright, honey. I’m gonna help Namjoon hunt for the Advil. Text me what you want from the restaurant, okay?”

Taehyung didn’t answer verbally, simply nodding– and for some reason– looking her up and down like he was trying to memorize her figure. Flashing him a smile, Y/N waved cheerily as she raced down the stairs. 

“I swear I looked here,” Namjoon complained, his ears flat when Y/N pulled the bottle of pills out of her medicine cabinet. He was still rubbing his jaw, Y/N fighting back a coo at the sight of him. 

“It was sort of hidden behind the jar of cotton balls. No worries, Bug. Just take two of those!” 

“Two?”

“Yeah, Joonie. You’re a big guy, you gotta take two,” Y/N chuckled, filling a paper cup with water for him. Y/N wasn’t exactly how tall Namjoon was, but he had to be at least six foot four. Hybrids tended to be taller than humans anyways, but Namjoon’s height was still startling from time to time. 

“I’m trusting you not to poison me,” Namjoon narrowed his eyes, apparently cracking a joke. She watched him through the mirror toss the pills back, following the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. 

“Why would I poison you? You’re too precious to me, silly,” Y/N grouched, poking him repeatedly on his sweater-clad chest. The wolf hybrid caught her wrist after the third poke, his amber eyes burning. 

“You mean that?” He asked quietly, thumb brushing over her wrist bone. With a tiny intake of air, Y/N smiled at Namjoon gently, curling her fingers around his thumb. Y/N knew that Namjoon, as a wolf hybrid, needed consistent reassurances of loyalty, and whenever he got it, he both glowed and became unsure.

“I mean it, of course I mean it. Come on, Bug. I’ll make you an ice pack, you keep rubbing your jaw,” Y/N squeezed his thumb, and the intense desire to kiss him had her shoving down the sensation aggressively. “How’s japchae sounding to you tonight?”

“You’re ordering from Haju? Uh… I want to try the knife cut noodles,” Namjoon brightened up, letting Y/N drag him along by his thumb. 

“You can order anything you want, that’s our policy in this house,” Y/N pushed him onto a barstool in the kitchen, blowing a kiss to Yoongi making tea on the stove. “Angel, do you know where that fabric ice pack went? Joon had a cavity, I think he should ice his jaw.”

“Third drawer to the left of the stove, baby,” Yoongi responded without looking up from the kettle he was standing over, instantly beginning to purr when Y/N pressed a kiss on the nape of his neck. “Take it easy on the sweets from now on, wolf.”

Namjoon snarled, hair on his tail standing on edge, though his fingertips were inching towards the cookie jar on the island, so Yoongi was correct to warn him. 

“I wouldn’t do that, Joonie. Wait a few days to have sweets–” Y/N began, handing him the ice pack before her speech was cut off by her phone ringing in her pocket. The caller ID showed that it was Ben, which had her pulse galloping. “Oh. One sec.”

“Ben, hi. You’re on speaker, Yoongi and Namjoon are here,” Y/N swallowed thickly, praying for some good news. Namjoon was frozen in his seat, the ice pack pressed to his jaw, while Yoongi shakily poured himself a mug of tea. “Um. Any news?”

“Hey, guys. I’m sorry, this man is a fuckin’ prick.”

“Oh, great. What the fuck did he do?” Y/N put her head in her hands, Yoongi petting the back of her head gingerly. 

“Even with the restraining order, he still wants to take you to court. Y/N, I don’t want you to worry. He cannot take your hybrids. If anything, if his lawyer miraculously ends up being better than me, you might have to pay him what he gave Gerry for the deposits. Oh, and when this blows over, I can help you sue Gerry for giving up private information,” Ben sounded like he was furiously taking notes on the other line, though his tone was soothing. 

“R-really? You’re certain he can’t take them?”

“I’m positive. The only way that would be possible would be if his ‘deposit’ was more than what you paid to adopt them, and even then, the chances would be slim to zero. The jury would be in your favor, Y/N.”

“Ben, you’re not sugar coating things for me, are you?” Y/N leaned into Yoongi, his sweet cologne curling around her. 

“No, and you know I’d never. Not about something like this. Listen, Y/N, Yoongi, Namjoon– you’ll be perfectly safe. I’m gonna give that prick the fight of his life, if you don’t kill him first, Y/N,” Ben replied, the prickly sound of him scratching his beard coming through the receiver, before adding quickly– “Not that I’m encouraging that, Y/N. Stay as far away from him as you can.”

“Of course. We’ve been sticking close to home,” Y/N felt a weight lifting from her shoulders, even Yoongi relaxing beside her, his ever-constant purring resuming. “Thanks for everything, Ben. I love you.”

“Love you too, kid. Take care of each other, alright? I’ll call you when I have an update.”

Breathing out slowly, Y/N pet the back of Yoongi’s head when she hung up. 

“That’s good news. We’ll be okay,” Y/N said encouragingly, Yoongi melting into her touch. “I’m gonna order some dinner, then we can pick out a movie or something. Maybe have another poker tournament. I don’t know, I feel like we should celebrate.”

“One step closer to getting that motherfucker out of our lives,” Yoongi agreed, glaring at Namjoon when the wolf hybrid tried to get himself a cookie again. “I wish I could kill him.”

“Me too, but alas,” Y/N sighed, wagging her finger at Namjoon. “Joon, I’m serious. Cool it with the cookies for a few days.”

“What were you doing upstairs? I heard loud banging,” Yoongi changed the subject while Y/N began compiling an online order of an ungodly amount of Korean food. 

“Oh, I put up Tae’s pictures. You know, the portraits of all of us. I’m so happy, they look beautiful…” Y/N answered distractedly, Yoongi’s tail winding around her leg. “Hmm. You think Seokjin would want naengmyeon? I think he’d like that… he did tell me once he’d try anything… but yeah! Check out the pictures when you can. All of my beautiful boys.”

Distantly, she heard Namjoon grunt, and when she cast a look at him, his face was rather flushed and he was gawking at the window into the backyard. He was always rather bashful with compliments, something that endeared him to her. 

“Can you get me bulgogi? Please,” Hoseok made an appearance, drawing out the syllables of his words. “My gums hurt. I think the tech scraped them too hard.”

“At least you didn’t have a drill in your mouth,” Namjoon responded to Hoseok’s complaint bitterly, and to Hoseok’s credit, he managed a merry laugh. It seemed like, those days, Hoseok wasn’t intimidated by Namjoon any more. Leave it to a stressful situation to bring everyone together. 

“You’re very brave, wolf,” Yoongi drawled, sipping his tea placidly. 

“I missed you guys so much today,” Y/N snorted, the lack of their banter during the afternoon striking her all of a sudden. Hoseok, on his way to the fridge, pinched her cheek like an elderly aunt, Y/N rolling her eyes. When she turned, she noticed Taehyung distractedly organizing items on the coffee bar, staring at her strangely again. She decided she’d take that over him avoiding her any day, adding the stew he wanted to the order and getting him extra rice. 

Taehyung was pacing around his room like a madman. If it went on for much longer, he could see the floorboards taking on impressions of his footprints. Stopping by the window, he froze when he saw Y/N ambling in the direction of the pond in the backyard, where the guesthouse was. While no one explicitly said anything, all the hybrids knew– it was all in Seokjin’s scent. Y/N was probably preparing that space for the two of them to get privacy during the jaguar hybrid’s rut. Taehyung would be a liar if he didn’t admit he was nearly boiling alive in his own jealousy. 

“Look at her. Hauling heavy shit out there all by herself,” Taehyung rested his forehead on the cool glass pane, biting down on his lip when she stumbled over a stray stone, almost dropping the space heater she was carrying. 

Taehyung realized a simple truth. Y/N loved them all, he knew it. He knew it, but he had been too terrified to confront her about it, to confirm whether or not she loved him like he had grown to love her. Cursing, Taehyung sprung into action when Y/N tripped again, this time sending her into the grass. Like a bat out of hell, he sprinted down the stairs and out into the yard without a single thought, not aware that he could even move that fast. 

Y/N was still reeling in the grass, the space heater beside her, the fabric of her floral skirt fanning out around her. Her eyes widened when she saw Taehyung hurrying over to her, his chest heaving. 

“Y/N,” Taehyung crouched, pushing strands of hair in her face aside. Stiffening, he caught the scent of her blood, heart stopping dead in his chest as he looked her over. “You’re hurt!”

“...huh? Tae?” Y/N was confused, like the rock she had tripped over hit her on the head. Was she dreaming? Was Taehyung really the one running trembling hands over her body?

“Your leg,” Taehyung sounded pained, spotting a jagged cut on her shin. “Why didn’t you ask for help? Where is everybody?”

“The store… needed a few things. Joonie, Jeongguk…” Y/N, dazedly, pointed off to the distance, probably the driveway where the van was parked. Taehyung was too busy staring at the blood rolling down her leg. “I’m okay. I’ll get a bandaid after I bring this space heater to the–”

She was interrupted by Taehyung removing his red flannel, tearing strips of fabric from the bottom of it with his teeth. Blinking at his sharp canines, Y/N was sufficiently shut up, watching the Kodiak hybrid mop up her blood with a concentrated expression. His grip around her calf was tender, but Y/N could tell he was irritated with her as he tied the makeshift bandage around her leg. 

“Can you stand?” Taehyung caught her eyes, trying not to drown in the color of them. Based on her scent, Taehyung knew she could tell he was ticked. “Let me help you up. No, I’ll carry that to wherever you’re bringing it.”

Taehyung brought Y/N to her feet by hooking his hands under her armpits, her skirt fluttering in the wind as she held onto his shoulders for support. Gazing up at him, Taehyung noticed how easy it would be to lean down and kiss her. Clearing his throat, he released her, bending to scoop up the space heater. 

“O-oh. Thank you,” Y/N whispered, Taehyung able to hear how fast her heart was racing. It got his hopes up. 

“I’m assuming you wanna bring it there,” Taehyung gestured to the guest house by the pond, Y/N humming in agreement. “Seokjin’s rut coming up?”

“Ah– um. Yeah. I suppose it’s obvious, bringing all of these things out here,” Y/N said awkwardly, noting that Taehyung was slowing down his pace so she could keep up with him. Taehyung didn’t reply, letting Y/N open the door to the small building, the Kodiak hybrid strolling in and placing the space heater next to the loveseat. 

“It’s nice in here,” Taehyung offered, taking a good look around. Y/N had put all of Seokjin’s favorite comforts in the space, the jaguar hybrid’s scent coming heavily off of the fuzzy blankets, piles of his pajamas, and even the stuffed animal he often carried around. 

“Yeah, it is. I totally forgot this was such an awesome space. We can probably use it this summer to watch movies,” Y/N began to recover from her stumble, straightening out the stack of DVDs on the coffee table. “I think that’ll be fun. I’m looking forward to spending summer with you guys. We can make day trips to the beach.”

Taehyung made a lap of the circular room, peeking up at the loft where the bed was. Y/N kept rambling to fill the silence, which was making her somewhat nervous. 

“Plus we’ll have the garden in full bloom, so I can teach you all how to dry herbs. Jimin says he knows how to make jam, so he can pass that knowledge onto us, too. He’s been working so hard on the greenhouse and the garden beds, it’s going to be the best,” Y/N’s gaze was far away as she looked out the window, admiring the garden beds a few yards away. Taehyung caught that scent again– the syrupy sweet one that Y/N took on when she complimented them. 

“You must really love him,” Taehyung remarked quietly, referring to Jimin but his eyes on Seokjin’s stuffed alpaca. He wondered if Y/N would take the bait as she almost broke her neck to stare at him. 

“H-him? Seokjin?”

“Jimin,” Taehyung shook his head, finally mustering up his courage. “Seokjin too, obviously. But you love Jimin as well.”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, completely caught off guard. Taehyung’s confidence surged when she had no reply, taking a step closer to her. 

“How can you t-tell?” Dizzy, Y/N saw something vulnerable swimming in his carmine eyes, astonished that they were finally having the conversation the two of them were skirting around for weeks.

“Scent. The way you talk about him. The way you look at him,” Taehyung rattled off, ticking the items off on his lithe fingers. “And it’s not just him. You love Hoseok, especially when he teases you. You talk about Namjoon like he hung the moon and you love Jeongguk despite his poor attitude.”

Y/N was too shocked for words, her hands shaking, so Taehyung continued. 

“And it just makes me wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Y/N found her voice, Taehyung taking one of her hands gingerly. 

“It makes me wonder if there’s any space left in your heart,” Taehyung whispered, plunging straight into the deep end, wanting to swallow the gasp Y/N made. “Do you love me?”

A tear slipped down Y/N’s cheek, unaware they even gathered in the first place. Swiftly, Taehyung brushed it away, his thumb warm on her skin. 

“Tell me, please,” Taehyung begged, unable to bear not belonging to her for a single moment further. 

“I love you,” Y/N’s voice cracked, wrapping her hand around Taehyung’s wrist and leaning her cheek into his palm. “There’s always been space for you in my heart. Always. Tae–”

“You love me?”

“Yes, so much,” Y/N was shaking like a leaf, heart threatening to break free from its cage, and to calm herself down and reassure her Kodiak hybrid, she pressed a kiss to the base of his palm. “I’m so sorry you thought I didn’t know.”

With a shuddering breath, Taehyung shut his eyes, letting go of her face in favor of winding his arms around her waist. He pulled her so close, he thought their souls would merge, Y/N melting into his chest and clutching at his white tee shirt. Nuzzling into the crook of her neck, Taehyung drank in her scent, sweeter than ever since he confirmed the reciprocation of his feelings. 

“I’m sorry, Tae. It would have been easier for you if I was braver. I love you. I’ll tell you every day from now on,” Y/N babbled into his chest, not caring that it was difficult to breathe with the way Taehyung was squeezing her. 

The Kodiak hybrid’s ears were practically ringing, he was so elated. He never felt that way before, and it was entirely overwhelming. He couldn’t wait a second longer, so lifting her body easily, he pressed her to the window and crashed his lips down onto hers. 

A muffled noise of surprise passed from Y/N’s mouth to his, Y/N’s arms around Taehyung’s neck to hold on tight. Pinned to the wall by the hybrid, Y/N was consumed by him, surrounded by his sandalwood cologne, and tasting honey on his tongue when he slipped it into her mouth. It was like he was trying to eat her whole, his kisses rough and all-consuming, and Y/N loved it. Carding a hand through his curls, she whimpered when he sucked on her lower lip.

Taehyung couldn’t get enough. Now that he had kissed her, he didn’t know how he could go another day without one. When his lungs started to ache from lack of oxygen, he paused, their lips centimeters apart. When he opened his eyes, Y/N was already looking at him. Cupping one of his cheeks in her hand, Y/N kissed his forehead softly, and when she pulled away, Taehyung was smiling at her, teeth and all. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she saw it in all its glory, but she was delighted to see it once more. Taehyung wondered if he’d ever stop smiling when he ducked back down for another kiss. 

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

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[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

DC X DP Soulmarks AU. Everyone has a soulmark somewhere on their body. The mark heats up if you’re in the same city as your soulmate

So Dani is around 17. Her soulmark is the green silhouette of Cujo just above her. She been traveling for around 5 years now. Jazz (23) lives in Gotham as a therapist. The Anti ecto acts are in place.

Damian is also 17. His mark is on his hip, just below his shirt hem. It doesn’t really matter if he’s Robin or a different vigilante. Attends Gotham academy as a senior. Damian was always taught to believe that his soulmate was a weakness.

Dani stops by Gotham for the first time since Jazz moved there, and she decides she to stay after her soulmark heats up. After a little bit of forging, she attends GA as a senior. She covers her soulmark with pants and stuff like that.

She and Damian have a few classes together, and they get paired up for a project.

They go to library to study and found that they both enjoy each others company a lot more than they thought they would. They keep hanging out until they start to have a small crush on each other.

Damian doesn’t mention Dani to the Wayne brood in case they might pester him and stalk him and ruin his chances with Dani.

One day, they are hanging out and Dani’s pant leg slides up a bit and Damian saw Dani’s soulmark.

That same hour, Damian’s shirt rides up and Dani see his soulmark.

They essentially have the same reaction.

Dani: Damian is literally perfect and I’m so happy he’s my soulmate but we can’t be together because I’m a halfa and the AEA are ongoing so it’s too dangerous to tell him

Damian: Dani is literally perfect and I’m so happy she’s my soulmate but we can’t be together because I’m a vigilante and my mother is very deadly and it’s too dangerous to tell her

They just hide their feelings and continue like nothing every happened

At around the same time, Danny comes to Gotham tour the university when he meets Duke and they realize they’re soulmates.

After a couple of dates. Danny takes Duke to meet Dania me Jazz (Duke knows about Danny’s halfa status)

Duke sees Dani’s mark and asks her about it, thinking it’s a bit familiar.

Dani tells Duke she’s found her soulmate, but they can’t be together for now.

Duke comes home and (after making sure that Damian’s soulmark is the same as Dani’s) tell Damian that he knows who his soulmate is.

Damian confirms that he knows, but can’t be with her because he a vigilante.

Cue the multiple (failed) attempts by Duke and Danny to get them together

Useable as long as you tag me :))

[bookyeom]

to care for you — lc

pairing: dino x reader word count: 4.4k warnings: mention of blood and injuries, mention of fainting, swearing, hurt and comfort, kissing request prompt: Okay so tumblr ate my ask 😭 but this is in response to @darkypooo’s request for Dino + “do you want to kiss?” “Yeah.”

Author’s Note: Yes, this is a Spiderman AU — but you don’t need to know much other than the bare minimum about the Spiderman universe to understand the story :) It’s set in college instead of high school, though. I’m actually so, so proud of this one, and I hope you like it!

Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I’m doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

He‘s exhausted. 

It’s an exhaustion that’s begun to seep deep into his bones lately, but it feels extra heavy tonight. After a not-so-brief brush-up with some bad guys, he’s hurting in places that he didn’t know existed — even after all of his years spent studying science. He can’t remember the last time he got this hurt — to the point where even breathing is hard. All he wants to do right now is give up. He’s not sure what good he’s doing out there, anyway.

He’s exhausted, and he’s hurting all over, and honestly? All he wants to do is see you. 

He feels like that a lot these days.

He knows he’s not supposed to want you like he does, to need you like he does — for so many reasons. First and foremost, because you’re one of his closest friends — his confidante (in everything not Spiderman related, anyway), his safe place. You’re his friend, and friends aren’t supposed to love each other the way he loves you. Besides, he’s Spiderman. He’s not supposed to need anyone at all. In this line of business, feelings are a weakness.

You, thankfully, have no clue about his alter ego… or his feelings.

Well, at least you didn’t know about the superhero part. Until now, when he drags himself into his room and you’re there, curled up in his bed. He thinks he must be hallucinating. He’s too out of it to really register it at first, but then your eyes meet his from where you’re sitting up against his headboard, duvet pulled up to your chin, and he’s frozen. You blink back at him in the dim light of his room, your face lit up solely by the lamp on his bedside table.

“Chan?”

Your voice is small — so quiet that he thinks without his heightened senses he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. He can’t think straight enough to really process that his mask is off — he must have dropped it somewhere between the living room and here. All he can register before he’s stumbled back and slumped into his desk chair, eyes screwed shut from all the pain, is that you don’t look nearly as scared as he thought you would. Then everything goes black.

There’s a warm pressure against his jaw and his cheeks. 

He slowly comes to as he registers the feeling, struggling to open his eyes and find the source of the sensation. He can hear a faint voice call his name, once, twice, and when his eyes finally manage to flutter open just a little, he’s met with your concerned gaze.

“Fuck. Hi,” you mumble, and he blinks. The pure worry in your voice helps to bring him back to earth a little bit more, and he tries desperately to clear his head. How long was he out?

“Why…” He tries to speak but fails, his voice weak and his throat hoarse. 

Why are you here? 

He sees you wince when he tries to move, to shift into a more comfortable position even though he knows nothing will be comfortable right now, and your head is suddenly shaking back and forth so fast that it almost gives him whiplash.

“Don’t move,” you tell him, and he dazedly wonders why you don’t sound mad. Or frustrated. Or anything but concerned, really. He’s confused, his mind swirling even more as he tries to understand why your hands are holding his face like that. Hadn’t he kept things a secret from you for far too long to warrant your concern? Don’t you hate him now?

“I don’t know what’s going on,” you say, and Chan fights the urge to try and speak again, to blurt out everything that he’s wanted to tell you since he met you. Oblivious to his inner turmoil, you hastily continue, “but you have to tell me how to help you, Chan.”

His eyes flutter shut once more at the sound of his name coming from your lips, and he feels your thumb brush against his jaw. 

“Chan,” you say again, and you sound more panicked this time, so he does his best to calm you down. 

“Off.”

You blink at him again as he finally speaks. You’re not sure what he means, and you’re desperate to know, because you can’t look at him in pain like this any longer without doing something to help.

“Off,” he repeats hoarsely, and your eyes widen as you hastily remove your hands from his face.

“Shit, sorry!” Your eyes frantically wander across his face, searching for any damage your fingers might have caused. “I don’t know where you’re hurting, I didn’t mean to—“

As you babble on, all he can do is shake his head minutely. That’s not what he meant. The last thing he wanted right now was for you to take your hands off of him. He manages to lift a hand to press gently against his side, where a dark stain has formed. He glances down at where the material is clinging to his skin before looking back up at you. 

“Oh!” You reply, realization dawning on your face. You try to hide the flush of your cheeks. “Can you stand up to move to the bed so I can help? If not, I can—“

Already, he’s attempting to move, desperate to make any of this easier for you. He wants to apologize, to say he’s sorry, but he doesn’t know exactly what for. For not telling you? For you having to see him like this? 

You help him stand, his arm reaching to rest on your shoulders as you do. You can tell he’s trying not to hurt you with his weight, and you almost laugh — how very Chan of him. You’re grateful that in the shock of survival mode, you’ve managed to avoid for now the way you know your heart is going to break when you register seeing soft, kind, selfless Chan beaten down like this. 

Cry tomorrow, is the message your brain is sending. Figure it out tomorrow. Right now, you need to help him.

“I’m strong,” you try to joke, though it’s a weak attempt, and Chan looks at you in confusion. “You can put your weight on me,” you elaborate quietly. He understands and gives you a sheepish smile, before doing as told, though you know he doesn’t want to. 

The two of you maneuver the few steps to the edge of his bed. Chan hisses involuntarily at the pain as he sits down, and you whisper soft apologies, though he has no idea why. Once he’s down, you immediately get to work, reaching behind him to find the zipper at the top of his suit. You manage to get it down as smoothly as possible, your eyes falling to where Chan is still clutching at his side.

“This part is going to hurt like a bitch,” you tell him softly.

“That’s okay,” he says. “It always does.”

You freeze for a moment from where you were about to begin to slide the suit off of his shoulders, but Chan doesn’t seem to realize what he’s said. You feel a sharp pain in your chest as his words replay, and you blink back tears, taking a moment to steel yourself. 

It always hurts.

You don’t respond, your fingers beginning to move again, and you’re surprised that they’re not shaking. Chan shivers when your fingers brush against his skin as you begin to slide the suit over his arms and off. You ease him out of the material on his uninjured side first, before coming around to the front of him and crouching down. You meet his eyes, his brown ones clouded over with pain, and your fingers gently reach to rest on top of his hand that’s still clutching his side. You give it a squeeze and he nods in understanding, closing his eyes tight, and you help him remove his fingers from the wound. You stand back up, and begin to pull the rest of the suit down his side and to his waist. Chan barely lets out so much as a whimper when you peel the rest of the material off of him. 

His lack of reaction is not what surprises you the most, though. The biggest surprise comes when you reach the spot on his side where you know a sickening amount of blood should be, and you find that it’s all dried — and that the wound has already begun to heal over. 

Huh?

Your brain can’t compute it. You glance up at him in complete confusion, but his head is hung low, and your heart breaks enough to distract you from all of the questions you want to ask. You force yourself to push the confusing mess of thoughts away until later. You can’t think about any of that right now. You can’t. 

“Chan?” Is what you say instead, knowing that you need to keep him awake enough to help him clean up, long enough to know he’s alright. Your hands are on his knees as you kneel between his legs and peer up at him. You have to stop yourself from reaching out to trace the newly-forming scars on his chest and arms, wanting nothing more than to kiss each mark and its associated pain away. You desperately want to know what happened, who hurt him like this, but you’re not sure you can handle it. You briefly register the older, faded scars that mark his skin, unsure of where they end and the new ones begin. 

You can’t figure it out — in front of you sits Chan, but it can’t be the Chan you know. It can’t be the one who giggles at your stupid jokes or falls asleep in your 8am lectures, or the one who remembers your coffee order every single time. The one who you swore had never fought with anyone in his life. The Chan in front of you looks so broken that you can’t put the two of them together. 

“You… okay?”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his again as he speaks, voice cracking and hoarse. Your heart stutters a bit in your chest as he attempts to look down at you, his eyes hooded over and half closed with the effort. He looks like he’s about to fall over, and still, he’s asking if you’re okay.

You’re hit so hard with sudden emotion that it causes you to inhale sharply without warning. Your hand lifts involuntarily to brush his hair back from where it’s falling into his eyes, and as he continues to try and hold your gaze, you register it all. This Chan is still your Chan. It’s the same Chan that has stirred feelings inside your chest that you were certain you could never feel again. The Chan whose intelligence and kindness still astounds you every single day. This Chan and your Chan are the same.

Your head spins.

When you finally make it to the bathroom, it’s all Chan can do to slouch down onto his bathroom floor. You help him out of the rest of his suit before crouching down beside him, wracking your brain for everything you’ve ever learned about cleaning wounds. You remain numb as he gives you single-word answers to where things are in his bathroom. It’s funny — you’ve been in his apartment so many times, but you’ve never needed to know where the antiseptic was. 

Chan’s eyes remain half-open as you work. He’s fighting with all his might, you can tell, and you can feel his eyes on you the whole time. You don’t think his gaze leaves you even once. It becomes monotonous: you clean the cut, he winces, you apologize. And repeat. Your mind wanders in what you’re sure is an attempt to protect yourself.

You’d come over tonight for your weekly movie night, letting yourself in with the code you’d long since been given access to. When hours had passed with no sign of Chan and no texts from him either, your heart had broken a little — had he forgotten? Was he okay? It was so unlike him that you’d stayed just in case, your heart racing with every little noise as you waited. 

You hate so much that your worst fears had come true.

Chan’s pain seems to ease in record time, bruises forming on his skin faster than you’ve ever seen. You have so many questions, but you push it all down, down, down. He falls asleep on his couch and you stay up all night, blanket pulled around your shoulders as you sit on the windowsill and make sure he’s still breathing. 

He wakes as the sun is beginning to rise, and you watch as he shifts to sit up, letting out a breath of what sounds like relief when he’s able to move without much trouble. Some of the cuts on his face and chest are already scabbed over. 

How?

When his eyes finally land on you, he jumps a little.

“Hi.”

”You didn’t sleep.”

It’s an observation rather than a question. You pull your knees up and rest your chin on them. “I was worried.”

It’s quiet, and he doesn’t know what to say. Neither do you.

“Well,” he clears his throat. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is small, and he immediately feels guilty.

“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what he expects you to do, what he expects you to say. You level him with your gaze, searching his face. Your eyes linger on the scabbed-over cut just above his brow, and you bite your lip before you speak again.

“It was…” You can feel your lower lip start to tremble in an act of betrayal, and you bite down on it to try and stop yourself from crying. “It was terrifying to see you like that, Chan,” you finally manage, and you know that after all these hours, the dam is about to break. You can tell he knows it, too, by the way his brows furrow even more, and his eyes widen just slightly.

“I know,” he murmurs, and that’s what does it.

Your hands move to cover your face as you finally let yourself cry, sobs muffled by your palms. You can hear the couch creak as Chan moves, and you can feel his presence as soon as he’s close. He whispers your name once, his voice breaking, and when he moves your hands away from your face, you don’t have the strength to stop him. He’s sitting next to you on the windowsill now. You sniffle, eyes looking anywhere but at him. Chan holds onto your wrists, rubbing gentle circles against the skin. 

“I’m so mad at you,” you finally say, and he lets go of your hands. He doesn’t retreat to his side of the window though, staying put as he nods, chewing on his bottom lip as he looks down.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,” he says, voice quiet. “I hope you understand why I couldn’t… but you still have every right to be pissed at me.”

It’s silent, and you stare at him in disbelief. There are so many thoughts running through your head, and it takes you a moment to settle on just one. “You think I’m mad because you didn’t tell me that you were Spiderman?” You finally say, causing him to look at you again in surprise.

“I mean, yeah? Why else—“

“I’m mad,” you emphasize, “because you’re out there getting hurt, and my heart literally can’t take the thought of that, oh my god, Chan.” Your voice breaks, and fuck, you’re about to cry again, but you can’t stop. Your eyes trace over his face, pausing where the bruise is starting to form on his cheek, and you feel frustration begin to build again as you angrily blink back tears. “What the fuck, Chan. Why the hell are you… I mean, if I hadn’t been able to help you last night, I wouldn’t — I just, I can’t even imagine—“

Your words are cut off as Chan’s hands find the side of your face. His gaze is firm as he looks at you, and his sudden boldness catches you off guard, your words dying in your throat. Once he seems to realize that you’re not going to run, his thumb moves to caress your jaw, and you can’t help the shiver that spreads through you at the gentle touch. Your hands lift to rest on his arms where they’re holding you, and you’re speechless, your eyes unable to leave his. He takes in a deep breath, and you follow.

“I’m here,” he says, and you draw in another shaky breath. You don’t think he’s ever been this forward with you before, but you’re grateful for it. He’s warm, and he’s here. He’s alive.You’re torn between wanting to never leave his side again, and needing desperately to be away from him so that you can think.

“I think it might be good for me to go now that I know you’re okay,” you say softly after a moment, and you can see the hurt that briefly shadows his eyes. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, though, and he nods, removing his hands from your face. 

“I understand.”

“And I… I probably need some time.”

He nods again, and your heart breaks at the thought of leaving him, but you have to. For now. Your feet feel leaden as you get up, going through the motions as you grab your backpack from the hook by his door. You barely register putting on your shoes, your mind on autopilot until it’s broken by his voice from just behind you.

“Y/N?”

Your name coming from his lips feels like a punch to the gut, and you almost reach out for him again, but you hold firm.

”Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. Can you just…” he sucks in a breath. “Can you please not tell anyone? About, you know—”

His words hit like a ton of bricks. You cut him off, expression full of silent fury at the insinuation. “Yeah. I won’t.” 

You’re pissed that he even had to ask, and he knows it, but there’s nothing else he can do. His secret is more important than anything — he just wishes it didn’t have to be more important than you. 

It takes three days for you to end up back at his door. He’s missed all of your shared college courses so far this week, and you’re worried. You’re terrified, actually, and you need to see him.

When he opens the door, you do a double take. It’s almost like nothing happened to him at all. The bruises and cuts are barely-there, and you’re reminded of the miles-long list of questions you have stored in the back of your brain. He’s surprised to see you, you can tell, and he blinks slowly before stepping aside to let you in.

“How are you?” You level him with raised eyebrows as you take off your shoes, and he nods, biting his lip. “Yeah, I know. I was worried that—“

“I didn’t tell anyone,” you interrupt. “Don’t worry.” You look down, your heart twisting painfully in your chest when you remember the words he’d said to you. ‘Can you please not tell anyone?’ You cross your arms as you head over to the living room, but you don’t sit down. You don’t really know what your plan had been — you’d just needed to see him. 

“Oh,” comes his soft reply before he adds, “I mean… I didn’t really think that you would.”

Your eyes briefly meet his across the room, confused, before you recover and look back down at the floor. “So then what were you worried about?”

You can feel his gaze intent on your face. “You.”

Your breath catches and your eyes swiftly meet his again. You blink. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Chan,” you say after a moment, trying to push down the bubble of irritation you feel building in your chest. “You didn’t even text me once.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he says quietly, “You said that you needed time.”

“To process, yes! But you didn’t even text me that you were okay. I was worried about you, Chan. Why would you be worried about me? I’m not the one coming through your window and fainting from injury, now am I?”

You can see the guilt flicker across his face. “I know,” he says, and then he suddenly feels the need to apologize again. “I’m sorry that I didn’t message you, but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.” He pauses. “Ever again, maybe.”

You can hear the sadness in his voice, and your heart breaks. You feel the anger in you start to dissipate as he looks away from you. Your eyes catch on the barely-there faded scar across his eyebrow, and your mind is filled with painful memories of the Chan you’d seen that night. 

“You’re so fucking stupid, Chan.” 

He knows. But judging by the way you sit down on his couch instead of storming out again, he thinks that somehow, his stupidity has already been forgiven. 

It’s quiet as he joins you. You can feel him looking at you, and when you can’t take it anymore, you look back at him pointedly. He blushes, quickly looking away when your eyes meet. You sigh, your head falling into the back of the couch before you turn and curl up against it, your eyes drifting shut. 

"Is that my sweater?" 

Your eyes shoot open, and it's as if he's finally grown the courage to look at you directly again now. His brown eyes search yours, and he motions to the shirt you're wearing. You look down — even though you know he's right — and your cheeks are on fire. You’re wearing the sweater he’d leant you forever ago on a cold night for your walk home — the one you’d never returned. You slept in it almost every night, and he hadn’t asked for it back. 

"Keeps me warm," you mumble, tugging on the hem. It's silent for a beat before you continue, voice even quieter than before. You pause, ruminating on your next words before you take a deep breath and say, “The last few nights, wearing it kind of made me feel like you were safe.”

You can hear his intake of breath before he says, soft, “Are you mad at me?”

You shake your head, because you’re not. You’re scared, stressed, worried sick — but you’re not mad. Not anymore. “No, Chan.”

The nickname sends a flood of relief through him more than your actual reply does. 

“I’m not mad,” you continue, “because of course you’re Spiderman. Of course you’re putting yourself in danger trying to protect others. I love how selfless you are, Lee Chan — I always have. But me? I’m selfish. And I’m scared to death of losing you.”

All he says, all he can say, is, “I’m scared, too.”

You look at him again now. You search his face as you ask, “Of what?”

“Of getting hurt. Of… of losing you, too.”

Your heart is suddenly beating so fast you think it might soon break free from your rib cage. You don’t know why you say it, because you’ve already got his undivided attention, but his name comes out breathlessly anyway. “Chan?” 

“Yeah?” He’s looking at you with those beautiful, big, questioning eyes, and you can’t help it. 

“I think it might be a terrible time for me to say this,” you blurt out, “but I — Chan, I’m in love with you.”

Silence.

Chan blinks.

“Wait, what?”

Your face flushes, and it’s your turn to look away. “Sorry,” you murmur.

“No, don’t — oh my god. What?”

You’re not sure what he wants from you. You’re embarrassed now, pulling your knees up to your chest in a feeble attempt to protect yourself from your feelings. Your face is flushed as you turn to look out the window, and you can almost hear Chan’s brain buffering as he remains silent.

“Do you mean that?”

“Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?” Your voice comes out a bit harsher than you intend it to, but you don’t take it back. 

“I…” He trails off. He doesn’t say anything more, and the quiet is almost deafening. You’re finding it a little harder to breathe as the seconds pass, and you wrack your brain for something, anything to say to fill the stifling silence.  

“I’m going to go,” is what comes out, and then you’re standing up so abruptly that you feel a little dizzy. The scene is familiar — you, running from what you’re feeling, running from him. 

“Wait,” he blurts out, and you do. You pause in spite of everything in you that’s begging you to run, and then he says, “Can I… I mean, do you want to… kiss?”

You turn back, eyes wide. It’s such a ridiculous question, such an innocent thing for him to ask in light of everything that’s happened in the last few days — but it’s so Chan that you almost forget about it all. This is probably a bad idea, you both know that — and you don’t care. You don’t know how this is going to work, but you’ll figure it out. 

Because it’s your Chan — the one who cares so much, the one who gives you hope, the one who wants nothing but for the world to be a better place.

“I mean — I love you too,” he says into the silence, and you realize that you haven’t given him an answer.

“Yes,” you breathe out before he can panic. “Fuck. I have so many questions, but first, yes. Yes, I want to kiss you, Lee Chan.”

You can hardly believe the giggle and shy smile he sends your way before he kisses you breathless. 

Yeah, you think to yourself as he pulls back, as your fingers lift to gently trace the barely-there bruise on his cheek, as he leans into the warmth of your hand. As you think about how he’s been doing all of this — trying to change the world — alone.

Yeah, you think. You’ll figure it out. 

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[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses

☆word count: 1.1k

☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.

They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.

“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.

“What?” he lets out.

“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.

“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”

Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.

But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.

“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”

Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?

“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.

“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”

“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”

Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.

So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.

Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.

His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.

Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.

Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 

You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.

It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.

“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.

His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.

Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.

You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.

“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.

You are… Taehyung’s sister.

You’re Y/n.

His best friend’s little sister.

The one thing Jungkook can’t have.

It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 

“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.

And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.

Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.

You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.

“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.

Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.

“Yes, please!”

Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.

Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.

“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”

And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.

How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 

He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

☆☆☆☆☆

Read chapter one here!

What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

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