#they come to expect it. every trip down there comes with the knowledge that there might be an explosion of blood down there also.

[cannibalisticskittles]

in the spirit of that last post -- obviously, astarion burning in the sun and running off to hide, alone, would not fly.

amity would be running after him right away, casting darkness. she'd throw her cloak over him. crouch down next to him, behind those crates he hides behind, and start casting the teleportation circle spell that's linked to the circle she made in her home/company basement while frantically muttering all the invitations she thinks he could ever need as she writes the sigil(s) -- it takes a full minute to cast so she has time to cover everything, she hopes. "i invite you into my home and my place of business and anything and everything i do or have ever called mine -- okay go go go go go"

helps him into the portal, if he needs the help; it only lasts 6 seconds so they've gotta be Real Quick

runs back to everyone else and gives an almost incoherent goodbye/explanation before scurrying off, like "YOU'RE ALL INVITED TO MY HOME, I WILL SEND WORD TO THE ELFSONG TAVERN WITH WHERE TO FIND IT BEFORE NIGHTFALL, I HAVE TO GO NOW"

and then she fucking books it through the city

full crying because two of her best friends just consigned themselves to wandering the hells just to keep one of them alive and yeah they can probably fix that eventually but that's so awful, karlach is so scared, and now astarion is all burned up in her basement, gods damn it

a tiefling running at full speed, openly weeping, probably snotty, bloody and covered in brain goo, getting closer and closer to the actual ritzy part of the city and getting stranger and stranger looks all the while

using a sending spell as she runs -- she has three 3rd level spell slots and she's using all of them on sending spells, addressing them to whichever of the company employees she thinks would be most likely to be there and/or to go down to where the teleportation circle is -- "friend in basement FRIEND NOT FOE DO NOT HARM help please, be there soon, close windows and draw blinds please, urgent urgent urgent"

meanwhile in the basement of the morninglade trading company hub, someone is coming down the stairs with an armful of scrolls, sees a dazed man hastily wrapped in a cloak who smells distinctly of ash and burnt flesh, and says "oh hey! new recruit? haha, wow, you're in slightly worse shape than we usually get. welcome aboard tho!"

astarion has just had something dear to him ripped away from him, and might never see sunlight again. just rolled into a portal that spat him out into a basement. has just sustained a minimum of 20 points of sunlight damage. he's not at his best.

it's a nice basement tho, at least

[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

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[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff   @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[moondirti]

pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.

honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up

PART 1 • PART 2

tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.

It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.

Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.

Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.

Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.

“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.

“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.

“Yeah.”

“Reckon I know the road.”

Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.

Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?

30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.

They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.

They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.

The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.

“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”

And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.

(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)

“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”

“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.

“Si.”

“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.

“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.

No one speaks for a while. Then–

“I don’t think I should go home right now.”

Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.

“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”

Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”

“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.

Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.

“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”

“Not what I meant, pet.”

You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.

Johnny bridges the gap.

“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”

next part

[theemporium]

Thanks! My request, please, for Jack is with shy, new to hockey reader, maybe with him getting busted for spoiling her in ways she didn't know (I love every single dynamic you write). After the first game she attends Jack has to brush off Nico's comments that he got her a front row seat, claiming it's just because it was her first hockey game. Especially Luke teasing because Jack just so happened to give her his jersey from his best game, and the skates Jack got her are coincidentally top of the line. All the while he's trying to not seem to desperate to go all in with her bashful self. This is so bad tweak or ignore all of this please and thank you.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Everyone had noticed it, yet it was none other than Ellen Hughes who pointed it out.

It was a somewhat surprise to the people in Jack’s life when he told them he had a girlfriend. Like a proper, ‘she’s the one for me’ kind of girlfriend. Ever since he had been drafted, Jack had been hesitant to dive into anything serious, anything beyond a fling or a situationship. 

He was the new face of the franchise. He had the weight of everyone’s expectations on his shoulders. He had to prove that he wasn’t just some pretty boy who was decently good at hockey. He had to prove he deserved to be in the NHL, that he deserved to be first pick of the draft.

And at his age, a serious relationship wasn’t exactly high on his priority list.

Until he met you. 

The boys had noticed a shift in his behaviour in the early stages of Jack’s relationship with you. The way he would be quick to check his phone after games and practices. The way he seemed quick to shrug off any advances in bars, more than happy to nurse a few drinks and giggle away to whoever he was texting before he disappeared early into the night. The way he just seemed…happier.

Luke was the first to notice something really odd.

“Yeah, my job means I travel around a lot,” he overheard Jack one day, when the boy hadn’t realised Luke had returned early from the option skate. “They are, uh, like road trips, I guess? We are heading down to Dallas tomorrow.” 

And then Dawson heard something weird after a game.

“You don’t have to watch,” Jack reassured the person on the other side of the phone, a giddy smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. “It can get quite long. It doesn’t last twenty minutes, just twenty minutes of actual playing time. It pauses when calls need to be made.”

And then it was Nico.

“No, not a suite seat. I need it beside the glass,” he overheard Jack asking one of the workers at the front office. “Preferably behind the bench. For the next home game.” 

It was easy to piece together that Jack was seeing someone. It was clear that she didn’t have much knowledge on the hockey world or how the sport itself worked. And it was clear that Jack seemed eager to teach you, splurging on you in any way he could without you really catching on.

But that plan quickly failed when you finally met Ellen Hughes. 

It was coming up to almost a year together when Jack asked you to come to the family skate. It wasn’t the first time you would be meeting his parents, but it would be the first hockey event you showed up to outside of the games. It was the first time you would really be setting foot on the ice yourself.

“Are those your own skates?” 

You lifted your head, finding Ellen standing a few feet away with a kind smile on her face. She was already laced up and ready to get on the ice, wrapped up warmly in a similar fashion to yourself. After all, she was the one to give you tips after Jack was unhelpful with his ‘I don’t know, my jersey is pretty warm’ response.

“Yeah, Jack got them for me!” You answered, unable to bite back your smile as you glanced down at your unlaced skates. “He said they were a good starter pair, nice to have a pair of my own so he could drag me out on the ice more.”

“A starter pair?” Ellen questioned, something quite like amusement in her voice.

“What? Are they not?” You asked, a hint of hesitation lacing your words as you glanced down at the skates with doubtful eyes. 

“I mean, they are hell of a pair to start with,” Ellen said with a gentle laugh. “Recognise the brand?” 

You glanced back at the older woman, shaking your head. 

“They are skates for professional skaters, quite a renowned brand too,” Ellen told you, still seeming like there was an underlying joke you weren’t understanding.

Your brows furrowed together. “Oh god, are they…expensive?”

Ellen simply smiled in response.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, staring down at the skates with a conflicted expression. 

“I think I’ll let my son explain everything,” Ellen said before she wandered off, the silence quickly being replaced by Jack who approached with a huge smile on his face.

“Need help?” He asked, but never gave you a chance to answer as he kneeled in front of you, already reaching for the laces of your skates to begin tying them.

You watched him closely. “Jack?”

“Hm?” 

“How much did these skates cost?” 

The boy froze, his fingers pausing for a few moments too long before muscle memory began to take over. 

“Uh, I don’t remember,” Jack eventually blurted out, making a point of keeping his eyes on your skates. The swift movements were quickly slowed down, like he was purposefully dragging it out so he wouldn’t have to look up. 

“Jack,” you scolded, though your voice was softer than he expected. “You have to let me pay you back.”

His head snapped up. “Baby, no—”

“You can’t just spend insane amounts of money like that on me!” You argued before he had the chance. “Especially on skates I’ll hardly be using!”

“But we could make you use them more?” Jack bargained with a bashful smile.

You shot him a look.

“Baby,” he sighed as he placed his hands on your knees, squeezing them softly. “I want to splurge on you sometimes. I just wanna show you I care, you know? And I wanna share my love for hockey with you. Help you love it just as much as I do.”

“You don’t need to spend stupid money to make me love it,” you retorted, but you melted at his admission as you placed your hands over his. “No more big purchases without telling me, okay?”

He sighed deeply before nodding. “Okay. Promise.”

“Good,” you smiled as you leaned down to quickly peck his lips whilst you had the chance with no cameras on you. “Now, c’mon. Teach me how to actually use these skates and make them worth your money.”

Jack snorted. “I’ve got you, baby.”

“Good because I haven’t even stood up and I still think I’m about to fall over.”

.

[majeoeje]

Counting days

Zuko x reader

I hope you never know how much i cried that day

"Just how long has it been??" You giggled as you twirled Zuko around in your arms. Something you had promised to do three years ago as you bid him goodbye.

Well much to his dismay at least.

"Only 3 years, 5 months and 4 days" he said, you could only laugh in response because you weren't actually expecting a definite answer

Zuko looked embarassed not knowing if he gave the right answer, his awkward demeanor still holds up even to this day making an odd sense of comfort wash over you seeing how some parts of him still remains the same.

You guessed it was 3 years, 2 months and 4 days ago that you bid him goodbye. It was before he set sail for his banishment to a search for the avatar, like it was just another short adventure, you smiled and greet him like it was just an ordinary day at the palace. Like it will be a short trip he'll have to endure not for long. How awfully positive you were being gave him a sense of hope that the nightmare he will go through would eventually come to an end.

Your encouragement only fueled the ambition in his heart to burn brighter.

And the light would dim in your eyes watching him go. He may not see himself as talented or gifted. He told you that hard work and effort had made him strong. Though he fails to notice how he was always your light without even trying.

You wished you yourself believed your own words you said to him.

Because much to his knowledge you broke down only minutes after he left.

"Well it felt longer than that..."

You reminiced, trying to take in the moment. You're here on a mission once again in inner rings of Ba Sing Se when you saw him. You thought you were hallucinating again but upon closer inspection, you were right.

It is him.

Zuko. The banished prince of the fire nation. The fugitive. The honorless coward...

...

..Your best friend.

The sentimentality of this moment bear weight heavier than you could ever hold. Though he knows you'd never admit that

"Really? Lee? You can't be more creative than that?" you try to tease him once more

"So? There's thousands of Lees here in Ba Sing Se"

"You look more like a Chen to me"

"Well you're 4 weeks too late to tell me that" he rolled his eyes, looking away slightly. But not enough to hide the smile that had adorned his face

It was more than meaningful to see him smile once more.

You thought after being scarred so horribly by his father. It would took you mountains of blood sweat and tears to see the corners of his lips turn upwards once more. But Zuko always proves you wrong

Because what you didn't realize and never would, you could always make him smile with just existing.

The chilling air blowed past the two of you, signalling for him to bring you somewhere else.

He took your hand leading you somewhere

"Come on, you have to meet uncle now that you're here"

"Did you and uncle Iroh actually opened a teashop??" You perked up, curious at the smell of jasmine tea that lingered from Zuko's apron.

You could always tell that it was one of uncle Iroh's dream to open his own teashop seeing how critical he always of every cup of tea you served to him. Saying how "every tea is to be brewed with perfection" Making those tea lectures that he would go on about much more yawning. But still, you always appreciate it knowing how those tea brewing lessons were how he kept you company in your visits everytime zuko's not around.

"I don't think it's that surprising"

Zuko then went on a rant on how some men who came in their previous workplace just started offering a job, a building AND an apartment in the inner rings of Ba Sing Se to uncle Iroh

The whole situation would only bring you to giggle at how silly it was. Silly, but a blessing nonetheless.

One thing of note was something has tremondously changed in Zuko, was it his more positive outlook? Or was it his more carefree demeanor. Lacking of the boiling desire to prove himself. Perhaps he has truly let go the way of only pleasing his father and just live?

It does bring contentment. But you can't help but feel sorrow washing you away. Because now you guessed he won't feel the need to come back. Come back home to his country....His rightful place as the heir to the thrown.....His coldblooded father.....His dead silent home...

Or perhaps you just wanted him to come back to you.

You were remembered the days at the palace where he'd eagerly lead you to take a look at something he had took intrest to. Whether it was baby turtleducks, a new gift by uncle Iroh or even a new firebending move he learnt.

"Heyyyy, slow down!" You'd whine, feeling him tug at your hand as he ran

"Come on! We're almost there." He'd say, you were always a little out of breath trying to catch up to him as his grip on your hand never faltered.

These detour wouldn't last long however knowing how people would look for him, cutting your moments short. But you never minded. No mattrr how frequent or how short these little quest last. You were just so happy being with him.

Though as you grew up you noticed these little detour would only lessen as years passed. It was understandable really you two were growing up after all and it wouldn't be appropriate for the prince of the fire nation to be holding hands with his childhood friend to show them daily mundane things.

And you yourself were far too prideful to ask him to do it again so you cherish the memories you already had in your heart.

Still.. you never thought you'd miss how the warm skin of his palm would brush again yours. The question along the lines of 'how long has it been' would echo once more in your head, feeling how rough his hand were now....Different to the smooth small hands of little Zuko.

But the warmth still remained the same.

You bit your lip and stayed silent hoping he doesn't notice the tears that was pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision as you heard him rant about his uncle's new teashop filling in the silence.

The cold air of the inner ring of Ba Sing Se suddenly felt warmer. The illuminated night was engulfed in a glaze of sunset hues as your steps on the concrete streets of Ba Sing Se would ring a sound akin to a smooth tiled floor

It was as if you were back at that damned palace again..

It's as if you were kids all over again.

Though this time you didn't have to worry about catching up to Zuko's pace.

(A/N:not an exact timeline bc i was too lazy to do research)

[atticrissfinch]

Exposed (javier peña x fem!reader) (18+) 

pairing: dark!professor!javier peña x fem!student!reader   summary: when you accidentally send a risqué picture to the wrong number, your worst nightmares are realized  warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] heavy dubcon blowjob, power imbalance, blackmail, extortion, threat of revenge porn, age gap (unspecified, but Javi is in his 40s, reader is early 20s), overheard male masturbation (javi makes you listen to him jack off), brief mentions of drugs/drug use, degradation, pet names/derogatory terms (baby, sweetheart, whore, slut, etc), probably terrible Spanish  word count: ~5.4k | ao3 a/n: my contribution to the haunted hoedown, because we know how I salivate over a taboo trope. Also s/o to my love Emma @walkintotheriveranddisappear for some deliciously depraved ideas that made it into this fic 😈

You knew the class was going to be small, but you didn’t expect it to be this small.

You heard Professor Peña was hot, but you didn’t expect him to be this hot. 

You had scored a spot in a highly coveted by-recommendation-only course, instructed by the notoriously attractive Professor Peña. You’re not strictly proud of the amount of groveling you had done to secure this class, but it had paid off regardless.

To approximately 15 students situated around a large round table, Professor Peña announces that this is a participation-heavy class and you each are expected to contribute vocally to every discussion. That and the couple of papers through the semester will cement your grade in the course. So you had better come prepared to talk. 

He also does something no other professor in your three years at university has done—he recites his personal cell phone number for the class, inviting you to text him at any time with questions or concerns. 

A bold choice, you think, considering his painfully good looks. You’re sure the female students throw themselves at him constantly, begging for higher grades with juicy red lips and flimsy dresses. Shit, any gender probably tries shooting their shot with him on the regular. 

He’s got those pouty lips under a finely manicured mustache that definitely shouldn’t work in this day and age—much more at home in, what, the 80s?—and that adorable furrow in his brow that students would trip over themselves to smooth over. And those fucking biceps. You can practically hear the stitchings on his button-up sleeves screaming for their lives every class.

The real question is how often does this guy give in? He comes off fairly good-natured if not a bit of a prick. Very sure of himself and his knowledge. But as the lessons have gone by, you haven’t noticed him delving out any special treatment to anyone in particular. He drills each student pretty equally, offering counterpoints and playful “devil’s advocate” takes to stoke the fire of the lecture. 

All in all, he’s a decent professor. Intense, but thoughtful. Not afraid to argue, but not afraid to step down or consider a point he hadn’t before with an upside-down grin and a nod of his head. 

And he looks, but he doesn’t linger. The low-cut tops catch his eye, that much is obvious, but he’s well practiced in disguising it. You’d only notice if you were looking for it. 

And maybe you were. Maybe you were looking for it. Not seriously. Just for fun. Just to scavenge for a weak spot in his tenured armor. The more you search for the throat-clears, the wiping of invisible dirt from his nose, the easier they are to spot. The man is clearly not immune to temptation.

His gaze tends to slide over you like butter, only dropping briefly to your chest after he’s done with his line of questioning and moving on to another student. 

Very smooth. Near undetectable. 

But he treats you with respect, like an intellectual. Values your insights, praises your observations. Makes you feel respected. 

Which is why you don’t have an issue texting him a couple of days before a deadline, politely asking for a short extension. 

However, what you should have been much more careful about was who else you were texting at the time. Some frat boy who had a nice dick and no qualms about a “friends with benefits” situation. 

A boy who was currently baiting you for “something sexy” for him to get off to tonight. 

Well, you definitely sent something. To someone. 

And when said boy doesn’t respond after a few minutes, and you double-check your work, you think your soul might ascend from your fucking body. 

Wrong text thread. 

WRONG FUCKING TEXT THREAD. 

Your fingers type as furiously as they ever have before, frantically attempting damage control. 

OH MY GOD PROFESSOR IM SO FUCKING SORRY

PLEASE DONT LOOKNAT THAT

PLEASE DELETE IT IM SOSORRY THAT WAS NOT MEANT FOR YOU

You’re sweating. In nothing but the panties you were wearing in that godforsaken picture you just sent. To your fucking professor. 

Who hasn’t fucking responded yet. 

The minutes tick past, and your heart rate is not slowing. What the fuck do you do in a situation like this? You’re not even a faceless student in a sea of seven hundred and fifty in a lecture hall. He is keenly aware of you as a student. He sits right next to you during class sometimes. 

Your phone lights up next to you: Professor Peña

Oh, fuck. 

You don’t give him a chance to speak first before you’re hitting accept and word-vomiting all over him. “Professor I am so fucking sorry, that was so inappropriate, I cannot believe I did that, I am so fucking sorr—”

“Hey, slow down.” 

His voice is disturbingly calm and firm. 

“Take a deep breath.”

You do as instructed, inhaling as deeply as you can through your nose and cascading it out through your mouth. 

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not—”

He says your name softly, “It’s okay. It was a mistake, right?”

“Yes, a huge, massive mistake. I wasn’t paying enough attention.”

“Not very focused on that paper you just asked for an extension for, huh?” 

The smirk in his voice is…alarming to say the least. Very disarming. You can’t help but let out a harried laugh. 

“Um, not at this very moment, no.”

“Or prior to this very moment, clearly.”

He’s making a joke. He’s making light of this to take the stress off. You know this. Then why does he sound so…

No. Of course not. There’s no way. 

“I should have been more careful, I deeply apologize.”

“No more apologies needed. You’re…” You hear him sigh over the line, “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

Fuck. 

No no nononono. 

“Professor, I—”

“I mean I’d have to be blind, right? To not appreciate a beautiful young woman like you. Those…gorgeous tits…”

Those last words have your mind stumbling over itself. Yeah, okay, you’ve fantasized about this man more than once. Even about him saying those exact words. But this is reality. Your professor—your actual, real-life professor—commenting on your bare tits. 

“Professor Peña, I know what I just did, but I think this is very inappropriate,” You say shakily, suddenly feeling exceedingly uncomfortable in your own skin. You grab the throw blanket from the edge of your bed and wrap it around yourself as if he can see you through the phone. 

“Am I just supposed to ignore what I’m seeing? Right now, clear as day on my screen? God, you really are…radiant.”

“Please delete it.”

He pushes out a short laugh. “Well, now, I’m not so sure about that. Looks to me like this might be attached to that little favor you just asked me.”

Your eyes grow wide as the full implication of his words settles into your skin. “No, no, this is not a—a bribe, or anything like that, it was a mistake.”

You hear him make a tchk tchk sound with the side of his mouth. “Sure looks like a bribe from where I’m sitting.”

He can’t possibly think that. Do you come off as that desperate? No way. He even just confirmed that it was a mistake. He knows it’s not on purpose. Maybe he’s had students do that to him before. That’s all it is. Surely. 

“Professor. That is so far off base from what’s happening here, I…I would never…”

Maybe your ears are deceiving you, but it sounds like his voice dips a little deeper. “And what if I were to consider that bribe? You willing to sweeten the pot a little?”

Holy shit. This cannot be real. The absolute fucking audacity of this man. 

“Professor…I’m not…whoring myself out for a deadline extension,” You bite back with wavering determination. “And how fucking dare you even insinuate that.”

“No, of course not,” he posits, adding on almost as a throwaway, “Just whoring yourself out to every dim-witted frat boy on campus, then.”

What the fuck? Did he really just say that to you? Does he honestly feel like he has any place to judge you for sending one single spicy picture to a guy who, for all he knows, could have been your boyfriend? He’s not your boyfriend, but still. The balls this guy has on him to assume that, while he’s dropping sexual comments about a student’s body?

“Who the fuck do you think you are, professor? Talking to me like this? I will report your ass so fucking fast,” You snap back at him, already mentally compiling all the shit you’re about to send to the school. 

His tone remains cool, verging on entertained. “And tell them what, exactly? That you’re asking for extensions and sending nudes to professors? Cause that seems to be all you have at this juncture.”

“That you’re sexualizing your students, maybe?”

“Again, with what evidence, sweetheart?”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“You have none, sweetheart. Now what you do have, is a delectable little body. And if you share a bit more of it with me, we could just…forget all about that pesky paper. How about that?”

This cannot be happening to you. This man, who instructs one of the most desired courses on campus, dangling a pass on a high-value assignment in front of you in exchange for you further degrading yourself for him. How many other girls has he done this to? Or are you just special? Fucking ew. 

“I’m not sending your pervy ass any more of my body.”

“Okay. Fair enough,” He says dismissively. “You’ve shown me enough to make a splash, so I guess that’s all that really matters here.”

You hesitate. “What…what is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, it may not cause too much of an impact, since I’m sure every backwards-capped, trust fund with a cock has already seen what you’ve got. But I’m sure I could still do some damage.”

Your gut twists inside you. Holy shit. Would he really do that? Would he distribute your nudes to campus? Maybe an even wider range than that? He could bulldoze your career before it even starts. Tarnish your reputation before…before you’ve even really lived. 

“You wanna leak my picture? You’re literally blackmailing me for nudes?”

He sounds as blasé as ever, like he’s picking grime from under his nails while casually threatening your future. “I’m just trying to facilitate your extension request. That’s all.”

“This is so fucked up,” You mumble clutching the blanket closer around you. 

“It’s very simple, sweetheart. Send me what I want, and this goes away. The paper goes away. No one needs to know.”

There it is. The most hackle-raising black-and-white scenario that’s ever been foisted upon your sinking shoulders. Either way, this man wins. It’s really just a matter of who knows he won. Just the two of you, or…fucking everyone. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take the bait. 

“No one else will know?”

“Not a single goddamn soul.”

“You swear on your fucking life?”

“Swear on my life, sweetheart.”

You scrub your face with your hand, groaning at the ludicrous circumstances you’ve found yourself in tonight. Who the fuck doesn’t double-check where they’re sending their fucking nudes?

Your voice comes out small, defeated. “Fine. What do you want?”

You hear an inhale and then a measured exhale. “I want the last piece of that puzzle, baby. Show me what’s under those panties.”

You crinkle your nose at the lasciviousness smothering his words. “God, you’re fucking sick, you know that?”

“Is that a no? Cause I can—-”

“Fuck. No, it’s not a no. Just fucking—hold on. Jesus. Trying to wrap my head around selling my fucking soul here. This is not how I imagined my night going.”

“Aww, was that naughty pic just a prelude for what was to come for some lucky Freshman in the dorms?”

“Shut up,” You mumble, your fingers tossing off the throw blanket and dancing indecisively at the band of your underwear. “Like I’d denigrate myself with a Freshman.”

“No, you’re just stripping down for a professor right now. Much more respectable.”

“Shut up,” You shout back again, hearing a laugh through the phone. 

“Make sure to spread those legs for me, sweetheart. I want a front-row seat. That paper’s worth a lot of points.”

“Don’t fucking—I’m doing it, okay? Fuck.”

Before you can mull over it too much, you rid yourself of the final piece of clothing on your body. You flop onto your back and spread as directed, aiming the front-facing camera toward your exposed folds. Taking one more steadying breath, you hit the shutter button. 

What sucks is you do have a fucking nice pussy. One that you’re very proud of. One that deserves to be appreciated. Just not like this. 

The photo automatically attaches to your text thread, awaiting your final approval. Your face doesn’t show, on purpose. You want at least a sliver of plausible deniability in this shitshow. The previous one showing your entire fucking face, up on spread knees with your tits on full display in the mirror’s reflection was plenty. 

You hit “send” before you psych yourself out. 

You hear him groan and swear. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. That’s one pretty pussy.”

“Prettier than you fucking deserve,” You mutter back, snatching the blanket and covering yourself up again. 

His next words are a bit muffled, the sound drowned out by him rustling the phone, but you make them out, “This is very nice, baby, thank you.”

Then your professor emits a prolonged sigh, curtailed with a moan at the end. Then another. And another…

“Jesus, are—are you jerking off right now?” You whisper accusingly, face scrunching in utter disgust. 

“What else—fuck—what else would I be doing with these pretty pictures, baby?”

You mimic a gagging motion to yourself. “God, ok, we’re so fucking done here—”

“Don’t you fucking go anywhere, sweetheart,” He barks at you, and it does what he intends, making you stop. “You stay right—shit—right fucking here. You drop this call, the deal’s off.”

“Jesus, why?” You beg, face still pinched in distaste. 

“‘Cause I fucking said so.”

You groan and throw your phone down, your room filling with the sounds of your fucking professor choking his cock. 

“Fuck, that’s a sweet little pussy, baby. Just begging for my cock inside it. Ohhh fuck, shit I’m close,” He groans, almost whimpering with it. “God, wanna come right on those beautiful tits, baby. Oh fuck,” His voice breaks a bit at the end as it splits into a loud moan and an excess of panting breaths. 

You have nothing to fucking say. Your brain is reeling from all the shit that just happened. You just listened to Professor Peña jack off to naked photos of you. How the fuck do you reconcile that with the man you’ve known in the classroom these past several weeks?

How do you reconcile the blatant fucking blackmailing that just solidified itself over the span of this call?

“Shit. Haven’t come that fast in a minute,” He huffs out, quieter than he was a minute ago as if he threw the phone aside and put it on speaker. “Body like a goddess, putita.”

You snatch up your phone with fury in your veins. “I know what that means. Don't ever fucking call me that, you sick pervert,” You spit out at him. “You’re the one extorting college girls for their fucking nudes. Who’s the real slut in this scenario?”

“Woah, woah, extorting? Who’s extorting here? I don’t see me begging anywhere in these texts. I see una putita,” He emphasizes the insult with relish, “throwing her pussy at me in hopes of some academic leniency. Now, what do you think the dean of students would make of that?” He remarks in feigned concern. 

“You swore.”

“I did indeed. And as long as you keep that pretty little mouth shut, we shouldn’t have a problem. Should we?”

You rest your face in your palm, rubbing at your temples with your thumb and finger. You give a resolved sigh. “No, professor. No problem here. Let’s just…pretend it never fucking happened. Okay?”

You can hear his grin over the phone. “Never fucking happened. That’s right. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

The line goes dead and you pelt your phone into your sheets. All at once, the tears hit you like a fucking truck, and you fall apart into heaving sobs. 

—

There’s no Buzzfeed article on how to girlboss your way through a college course after accidentally sending your professor nudes and having him blackmail you for more. 

You know, you’ve checked. 

It’s been several days since your encounter with Professor Peña, and this morning is your first class with him since. You’re choosier than you’ve ever been about your outfit of the day. Everything you own seems to be revealing in some way, and you’re trying to find something more…nun-chic. The last thing you want to do is give Professor Peña an excuse to ogle you throughout class, now that he knows what’s underneath. 

Boyfriend jeans and a t-shirt it is, then. 

The indecision makes you later than usual. Still on time, but barely. The only seat left is directly across from him. Of fucking course. 

He doesn’t double-take or stare excessively, just a cordial nod acknowledging your presence as he begins the discussion. The banality of his reaction is almost worse than the idea of the opposite. 

It’s like he really doesn’t give a shit about what he did the other night. Like it was a run-of-the-mill Thursday night for him. Get home, pour out some Jim Beam, grade some papers, stroke one out to your student’s nudes while on the phone with her, go to bed. 

Jesus, for all you know, it might be normal for him. 

Your mind is out to the fucking races, and it’s embarrassingly obvious when he puts you on the spot with a question or request for comment. You muddle your way through with the most lackluster answers you can conjure up in that second, just to get the heat off you. 

When he’s done with his final inquisition toward you, he gives you a fleeting look up and down. Not in a manner someone would immediately pin as sexual, but there must be an element of it there all the same given the circumstance. 

“Disappointing answers today. I expect you to be more prepared next time.”

He leaves it at that and launches into another talking point. 

You want to disintegrate into a fucking puddle on the linoleum floor. Astral project your consciousness anywhere the fuck else than here, in this room, getting an “I’m disappointed in you” lecture in front of a dozen other students, from the king of all covert skeeves. 

Verbally retaliating would just cause a scene, so you take your lumps and retract in on yourself, swearing under your breath. For the rest of class, you sit with your forehead resting on your hand, scribbling nonsense notes. 

Professor Peña dismisses class, and you compile your shit like it’s revving up to run for its life. When you hear him call your name, you cringe. 

You chance a look and he’s tapping to align his papers on the table, a stern expression fixed on you from beneath his lashes.

“Stick around for a moment, please.” 

In the corner of your eye, you can see other students offering everything from looks of pity to secondhand fear to just plain yikes. 

With a curt nod, you fall back into your seat, rhythmically rapping your pen on your notebook and well on your way to championing “eye contact avoidance” into an Olympic sport.  

Professor Peña follows the last student to the door at your back, closing it after them. He doesn’t reappear in your line of sight, and when he breaks the silence, his voice comes from behind you. 

“You know, that was a very lovely paper you wrote. But that doesn’t excuse you from interacting in class. You don’t get a pass to just coast through the rest of the semester.”

You snort, chucking your pen down on the table. “Oh, please.”

A large hand lands flat on the table next to your books, and a prickling awakens on the back of your neck at his proximity. You could work up a sweat just from the heat radiating off his body. 

“I’m not loving the attitude here. Particularly from someone who couldn’t form cohesive sentences in response to rather simple questions today.”

“Oh, fuck off,” You snap at him, turning your body in your chair to face him. 

He leers down at you with a raised eyebrow and his tongue poised between his teeth and the inside of his lip. 

“I’m thinking you need to meet with me during my office hours.” He rolls his eyes up in thought and then nods. “Yup, I just decided. I expect to see you in my office this evening.”

“What? There’s literally no reason for—”

“You clearly aren’t coming prepared for lecture, and now you’re giving me attitude. I think we need to have a larger discussion about your future in this class.”

“I don’t need–” 

“This is not a request.”

“That’s such bullshit, professor,” You glare back at him. 

He shrugs with a frown, propelling himself back from the table with his hand and readjusting the strap of his leather messenger bag. “Between five and eight PM. If I don’t see you…” He pauses with his hand on the door handle and drops his gaze to your covered tits for a brief moment before giving a small tilt of his head, “Well, I guess we’ll both see.”

He swings open the door and leaves without another word. 

—

You float the idea of not showing up. His threat is already beginning to wear thin to you. So what if he leaks your nudes? Not the end of the world. It’s an awkward conversation to have with your parents, to be sure, but that’s if it even came to that. His threats could be hollow. He could be nothing more than a sad, lonely man scrounging for women to wield power over. All bravado, no balls. 

You ultimately came because he might be able to be reasoned with in person. 

His voice beckons you in when you knock. 

“Close it,” He orders from his desk when you enter. 

“I prefer it stay open.”

He looks up with austerity from the document he’s studying. “I said close it.”

You stay put in front of the ajar door, staring him down. 

He shakes his head and pushes himself up from his desk, stalking over and reaching past you to yank the door closed with an irritable eyebrow quirk. You hear the lock click in the deafening silence. 

He throws his head in the direction of his desk and the chair in front of it. “Take a seat. And don’t fucking argue.”

You roll your eyes behind him but follow him over. 

As you sit, Professor Peña situates himself at the front of his desk, his ass indenting against the protruding edge and his hands gripping it on either side of him. Your knees don’t quite touch, but they’re daring to. 

He delivers an appraising look up your body, which is still clad in the same jeans and t-shirt. 

“Jesus, you really do look better with nothing on if this is the shit you’re choosing to wear.”

“Oh, so you do remember the bullshit you pulled the other night,” You say with a nod, “Was starting to think maybe you forgot.”

His brow furrows. “Why the hell would I forget? What, did you think I was gonna whip my dick out in the classroom the second I saw you?”

You shrug. “How am I supposed to know the depth of your depravity? Anyway, why the fuck am I here?”

“Well,” Professor Peña sighs, looping a thumb over his black leather belt, “since it seems to me that you’re having trouble opening your mouth in class and filling it with anything of substance…” He slides his hand to the silver buckle and gives it a small tug, “Thought maybe I’d offer you a private lesson.”

Your eyes dart from his belt to his face, which is rich with smug satisfaction that you want to smack right off. 

“Not a fucking chance in hell, dude,” You respond, leaning back in your chair. 

His smirk only creeps wider as he leans forward in response, caging you into your seat with his hands on your armrests. “Funny, I’m not really presenting this as a suggestion.”

You glower back at him, slamming your hands down on top of his and digging your nails into his flesh. “Back the fuck off, old man.”

The motherfucker barely blinks. “It appears you might be forgetting that I’m the one with the power here.”

“Are you? Because I’ve decided I don’t give a fuck if you share my pictures, dude. Go ahead and fucking do it. It’s not like they can kick me off campus for being the victim of revenge porn, and I can deal with the blowback. You don’t fucking scare me.”

That has him retracting his hands from your chair and reclining against his desk again, a swell of pride burning inside you when you see half-moon indents in his skin. He looks up at the ceiling in thought, tapping his fingers against the desk. “Maybe the pictures aren’t what you should be worried about.”

He doesn’t expound any further, and after several beats of silence you prod, “Fine, I’ll bite. What should I be worried about, professor?”

He lifts a hand to his chin, rubbing it with his fingers. “Didn’t I see you snorting coke on campus the other day? Before class?”

The accusation takes you aback. Your eyes narrow on him, studying his face. “What the fuck are you talking about? I barely even smoke weed.”

Professor Peña shifts his weight, crossing his arms on his broad chest. “Mmm, no, I’m pretty sure I saw you in possession of illegal stimulants on campus. Sure enough to report it, too.” 

He squints his eyes in further thought, making a slight pout with his lips. “Could probably back it up with evidence, as well. I’d hate to find a dime bag on you after our next class.”

This fucker. This two-faced, sadistic fucker. 

“You fucking wouldn’t.”

He winces as if in pity, baring his teeth in a faux-pained expression. “I would, actually. I’m mandated to report illegal drug possession for the safety of the campus.”

“Dean Hansen would never believe that—”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Baby, I’ve got Dean Hansen in my back fucking pocket,” He brags. “Not to mention having her in the backseat of my car, having on her knees in her own goddamn office. Where the fuck do you think I get it in between bimbo college sluts like you?”

You scoff incredulously, rolling your eyes. “You are not sleeping with Dean Hansen.”

“I’ve got the bitch on speed dial, sweetheart. Should we find out?” He rounds his desk and takes his own seat, lifting the phone off its hook. 

You leap out of your seat and extend a hand, “Please don’t.” 

He pauses with his finger above the keypad. He makes a single tilt of his head toward his crotch. 

Your eyes follow his indication and your resolve begins to shudder. “Please…don’t. Don’t make me do this.”

Without taking his eyes off you, he presses a button on his speed dial and leans back in his chair with the phone cradled at his ear. Tangible silence flows between you as you both wait. 

Then his face alights. “Hey, Deb. Javi.”

“Shit,” You whisper, practically diving around his desk and onto your knees, looking up at him with pleading desperation. 

His head dips, gesturing toward his crotch again. He chuckles into the phone. “No, for once I am not calling for that. It’s actually concerning a student of mine.” 

His eyes stay locked on yours, waiting. 

A string of curse words color the inside of your head as your hands find his belt, fingers fumbling over themselves as you undo the buckle and fastenings of his pants. 

“I’m fairly certain I caught her doing drugs in an alcove inside the Whitmore Building a few days ago.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” You chant under your breath as you jerk down his boxers to reveal his cock, hard and thick against his thigh. You wrap a hand around him without preamble, stroking him rapidly. “Please hang up.”

He ignores your request entirely. 

“On top of that, she’s been acting increasingly erratic in my class.” He reclines slightly in his chair and mimes licking his palm as he glances down at you. You huff and spit into your own, immediately returning to his length with a more acceptable glide. 

He muffles the bottom of the phone, pulling it away from his face and whispering, “That’s a girl. Now put it in your mouth.”

So we’re really doing this, you think. This is what we’ve been reduced to. 

You don’t allow yourself to spiral. Not now, not with him on the phone with the fucking dean of students. You ground yourself with a solid breath and lean in.

You encapsulate the head with wet suction, rubbing your tongue up against the underside and teasing the slit with his precome dribbling out. He stares down at you with hooded eyes, working his free hand into your hair to hold it. 

“Right now I think I’ll just keep my eye on her. Don’t wanna get her in trouble if I’m mistaken, after all.” He rolls his hips up, pushing more of him into your mouth as you open for him. “She seems like a good girl. Wouldn’t wanna ruin her.”

You gag on him as quietly as you can manage, his movements making your eyes water and your mouth salivate. 

“Maybe I’ll call you later, Deb,” He offers noncommittally into the phone, saying a final goodbye and hanging up. He lets out a heavy sigh and readjusts his grip on your hair. “See? You do as I ask, no harm done.”

You whimper around him as his eyes slide shut, allowing himself to feel you around him as he rocks his hips into you. 

“Such filthy head from a filthy whore. If I gave you enough incentive you’d probably let me buy and sell you like fucking cattle to the rest of the faculty, baby.”

He eases your head off his cock, spit clinging to the tip. He slaps the head against your lips wetly before rubbing it over the heated skin of your cheek and then poises it back at your mouth. 

“And you know what the best part is?” He smirks as he bends over, using his grip on your hair to tilt your face up to him. “That wasn’t even the dean.”

The surprise on your features is still evident as he thrusts back into your mouth with a grunt, using you to fulfill his pleasure. 

“Down on your knees, whoring yourself over an empty phone line. How does that make you feel, sweetheart?” He asks, fully aware your ability to answer is being hindered by his own doing. His own cock stretching your lips and stuffing your mouth. 

His head presses into the back of his cushioned chair as he invades your mouth, his jaw hanging open as he thrusts and mutters in Spanish, “Sucia puta. Así.”

The closer he gets, the harder he grabs at your scalp, pressing you down into his lap. He finally comes with a prolonged groan and a flurry of Spanish you don’t quite catch. He doesn’t warn you, just shoots every drop of himself into your overflowing mouth and straight down your throat, forcing you to swallow. 

You cough as he releases you, falling onto your hands and knees and wiping all manner of fluid from your face with your sleeve. He’s the picture of bliss above you, panting with a smug smile teasing his lips. 

“You’re fucking sick. Out of your fucking mind,” You grit out at him. 

He shrugs, balancing his elbows on his thighs. “And you’ll keep doing what I say, when I say it, until I decide I’m done with you.”

Your eyes mist over as the thought of your new normal trickles through your brain. “Why are you doing this to me? Like, truly, why?” You plead. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he placates, cupping your jaw in his hand and looking deep into your eyes with the most devastating quasi-sympathy from his endless molten brown ones.

“Because I can.”

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[drizztdohurtin]

Gale Headcanons: Pregnancy and Fatherhood

pairing: Gale x afab!reader (use of she/her, "wife", "mother")

[ masterlist ] [ wip list ]

i've brought to you....... yet another doozy

What to expect: section 01 - pregnancy: fluff & domesticity, slight NSFW under the cut section 01.5 - labor and birth: fluff section 02 - fatherhood: fluff & domesticity, slight angst

suggested pre-reads: pining, dating, domesticity, and marriage | deciding to start a family and conceiving

01. Pregnancy

Your pregnancy is revealed either from your period not coming, a trip to the cleric, or from Tara being able to sense something new in your womb - choose your favorite!

With a big smile, Gale would let out a very relieved sigh and pull you in a close embrace - "My love, I can't believe we finally did it"

He'd hold you for a while, nuzzling his face in your neck or your hair, pressing his forehead against yours, dipping down for relieved kisses and brushing his nose against yours

He'd be more excited than words could explain, but he'd want to wait a little while before you two get too hype about it because anything could happen when you're that early on in a pregnancy

He'd continue cooking proper meals for you every day, especially anything he learned is good for your first trimester (like anything rich in iron and protein)

But as the weeks go by with no issues, and once a cleric signs off on the health and viability of your pregnancy, the man jumps into gear

He would love to have an active part in designing and setting up the nursery, and would absolutely take care of it by himself if you didn't have much of an interest or preference in it

He talks to your belly SO often

will say random things to your bump throughout the day; and the info dumps he used to subject you to are now also for the baby, and he speaks as if there are multiple people in the room rather than just you

imagine him scolding the growing baby about how he told them to "stop kicking mummy all night because she needs to sleep"

I also love the thought of him greeting you and the baby whenever he sees you - "Hello, my love," he'd say to you, then look at your bump, maybe bending down a little bit, saying, "and hello my baby :)))", often giving your stomach a small rub

100% talks to the bump at night, with his head resting on it (or your chest), his hand rubbing comforting circles on your belly, sometimes following the movements his baby is making from the inside

As prepared as he was for your pregnancy from reading all of those books, I doubt he'd ever closely been around a pregnant person like this before

so he'd be really shocked seeing how much your belly stretches when the baby is big and really starts moving around

nothing could've prepared him for that - it's fascinating to him but he also doesn't try to egg it on if it's uncomfortable for you (which it very likely is, especially as your baby gets bigger and bigger)

he'd feel so lucky if he was there to witness the first time your baby kicks

You'd perk up like "gale!! baby's kicking!!" as you rush to put one of his hands on your belly - shock and excited anticipation in his eyes as he waits to feel it

and he'd be whispering as if talking too loud would scare off the baby from moving - "Do it again, little one, come on!"

He'd be so quiet, even once he felt the kicks; there'd be a quiet gasp as he looked back at you, his jaw dropped in a big smile, basically astonished

after that moment, he'd always have his hands on your bump, hoping to feel some movement

If you get food aversions or are easily nauseous... oh my GOD he's so perfect and patient and understanding and helpful about it

Wizards aren't versed in healing magic, so he wouldn't be able to help you out too much on that front but he would be there for you for every second of it

He is still a very knowledgeable and powerful wizard, so he could try other forms of magic that could help reduce discomfort

he would be able to evoke different scents into the air; for example, citrusy and peppermint/eucalyptus smells can help with things like nausea (the latter can also be for headaches)

or lavender and chamomile can help you get to sleep if you're feeling restless

I've mentioned it in other headcanon posts, but he'd also be able to change the temperature of his hands, to some effect, using the cold/heat to relieve certain types of pain on your body

He'd adapt to food aversions, or even food obsessions, that you get; implementing changes in the meals he makes for you with ease

Gale would NEVER leave you alone to deal with something uncomfortable or painful

the only reason he might not be there to help is if he's at work

and he'd feel so terrible when he gets home and sees the state of you, or asks how your day went only for you to find out about your newest aches and pains

He'd definitely coax you into a bath often if it was something that made you more comfortable - offering to join you and massage any areas of your body that hurt

Your pregnant body would do things to him, btw

Even from the beginning, despite how it would take months for you to even start showing

Just the fact that you were pregnant with his baby would do things to him

His mindset about this would be similar to how it was during your time conceiving - he wasn't turned on by the idea of "breeding you" but instead by the level of intimacy that creating life with you is

So he wouldn't look at you with lust because your rounding belly, your growing breasts, and your widening hips were evidence of him "breeding you"

he'd be turned on by all those things because of the intimacy it implied - it was evidence of your love for him, and his love for you, and it would always be perfect to him, more than words would describe

the first time he realized your bump was noticeable was after he came home from having to be away for a few days - and you were changing for bed

You'd heard a quiet, but audible, "Oh wow," when he noticed you and the way your stomach and breasts were larger and rounder than he remembered

visibly in awe, he made his way over to you, hovering his hands over your stomach with a soft, "May I?" - his hands finding a place at your belly only once you nodded

He'd get down on his knees and kiss your bump, telling you how much he loved you and how stunning you were before making his way up to your lips - his warm, gentle hands grazing up your sides and around your lower back

If you were feeling well that night, he would absolutely want to show you how much he loved you, and how gorgeous you are

Gale would 100% want to make love to you anytime he could - there was just something about your pregnancy that could get him worked up at the snap of a finger

He wouldn't initiate it a lot, especially if you weren't feeling well - he much preferred to care for you in the other, more innocent ways

But he'd absolutely have you any time you wanted him, whether it was because you were feeling at the top of your game or because you were feeling horrible - his goal is always to love and worship you

So much of your time over the past year or two would've revolved around trying to start a family and going through pregnancy

so he'd completely understand if you ever felt overlooked as an individual, or as who you were besides your pregnancy - though he tried his hardest to make sure you were never overlooked

compared to the amount of effort and time he'd spend on things that did revolve around your pregnancy, he'd spend the same amount (and maybe more) on taking time to love you and spend time with you in ways that didn't revolve around your pregnancy

he wanted to ensure you never forgot that his love and care for you extended far beyond the fact that you were carrying his child

01.5 Labor and Birth

Gale would be a literal dream when you go into labor

Despite the common fears and nerves people get when their partners go into labor, he remains very calm and collected on the outside

He'd made sure nothing got in the way of him being there for you in every way you can imagine

And you guys would've made a very thorough birth plan, whether it was his idea or yours, and he would stick to it

your birth plan would be incredibly important to him and he'd 100% have it memorized in case he needs to speak or advocate for you

Just from all of the books he's read, he's almost exceedingly prepared

He's so wonderful during the actual birth, doing everything you need him to without even asking

because by this point in your relationship, he knows exactly what you need just from glancing at you

I couldn't decide if he would be more of a "stick to the books we read" type of partner during labor or a "you can scream and cry and punch me and, you're the only one that can do it, so do whatever you need to do to get yourself through this" type

He's very much a combination of the two, but I ultimately decided that he's closer to the first type for the birth of your first child, and if you have more after that then he's more like the second type

So for the first birth, he lowkey wants to stick to the birthing books he read - like he'd insist on you doing the breathing techniques he learned about, or trying different positions to allow gravity to do its job, etc.

and whether or not you listen to him is up to you HAHDSA

He'd just be so fucking in awe of you - even if you refused to follow the dumb breathing exercises he kept mimicking 2 feet from your face

If you happen to yell at him because he's talking too much or that's just how you deal with that kind of pain, he literally wouldn't even be upset in any regard

If you gotta break his hand by squeezing it too hard, go ahead

You could literally kill him in that moment and he'd understand

He'd be full of praise and loving words, too

There would be a lot of "you're doing incredible, my love, keep going," as he rubs some part of your body soothingly

and once baby is born, oh boy

His face would almost scrunch up; his lips pressed firmly together in a soft smile, trying to hold back his tears as he watched your baby be handed over to you

If you looked over at him, you'd just see him with the most soul-crushingly sweet smile, and glassy eyes looking back into yours with the purest love

And he'd be pretty damn quiet, basically at a loss for words as he takes in the whole scene before him

A few tears would finally fall the longer he looked at the two of you, along with a quiet sob of happiness when you eventually ushered him closer

and that's when he finally gets to touch his baby for the first time, rubbing the pad of his thumb as gently as possible over their warm, tear-stained cheek

He'd just lay his head on your shoulder, his face less than a foot from that of his newborn who was laid on your chest - relishing in the first moments of fatherhood that he'll never get to experience again

02. Fatherhood

OKAY let's talk about if he has sons and/or daughters and how many

I'm a Gale-firstborn-is-a-boy truther

and I honestly can't explain it but I can't see him having more than one, which is probably unpopular and I can't even explain myself !!

if baby #2 comes along, I tend to lean more toward him having a daughter, 3-5 years after his son

those are the specifics of my thoughts, but the rest of the headcanons will be gender-neutral in case you feel differently!

Gale is obsessed with his baby - by the Gods, they are the most perfect thing in existence

He would thank you every day (literally, every day) for bringing such a gift into the world

He's not a super "touchy" father - meaning he's not constantly kissing or nuzzling his baby (unlike someone else I've written about, not to name any names), but he's still of course an affectionate dad

He'd more often prop his baby up in their seat so they could watch him do things (like while he cooks or cleans or works in his study) rather than hold them the whole time

entertaining them the whole time by explaining what he was doing (explaining it to them as if they had the language comprehension of an adolescent)

You'd walk in on him explaining to your 3-month-old how to properly zest a lemon and how he even learned how to do it in the first place

and to his credit, your child looked very interested

It's not like he doesn't know how to talk to babies or something, he just isn't big on baby talk

and he always read about how stimulating it was for babies to hear and watch people talk to them - so really, he was doing a great job

If he's relaxing on the couch reading a book or resting his eyes, however, he'd love to have his baby cuddle into his chest while he does so

He'd read out loud to them sometimes, too, of course!

Gale's the "on it!" type of dad

Literally anything you or the baby need, he's on it before you even ask - and, yes, he absolutely goes "☝ On it, my love!"

he's literally so patient, too

He'd be able to say quite calm and collected even when his child is freaking out and crying and throwing tantrums - or if they're just a really colicky baby - he handles it very well and never ever gets upset with them

The driving force behind his patience is how empathetic he is as a person - it would only go above and beyond for you and your guys' children

Even if he had to go to work all sleepy and fatigued, he wouldn't be upset - and he'd wear the bags under his eyes like a badge of honor

if it means allowing you to get your proper rest, he'll stay up comforting your crying baby all night if he has to

This might be an unpopular opinion but he's not a very panicky dad - like if his kid gets hurt, he's quite level-headed about it, he's not freaking out

he'd do a really wonderful job of comforting his child and keeping them calm while he helps heal them - and he's definitely the type to tell them stories to distract them while he fixes them up

I'm subscribed to the idea that Gale did not grow up with a dad and didn't have much of a childhood due to M*stra and how consumed by his magical craft he had been (I don't even remember if these are canon or headcanon at this point)

so he'd desperately want to give his child what he never had - a loving father and a real childhood

I do love the community HC of them being very gifted in magic, so before you and Gale find out about it I think he'd secretly hope that his child doesn't inherit his abilities - mainly for the reason of him wanting them to enjoy their childhood instead of being consumed by their gifts like he was

(plus there's always the looming threat of fckin M*stra 🖕🖕🖕🖕)

But when his child's gifts are revealed and they start summoning things at a young age, he would take every precaution possible to keep them safe and also allow them to still be a kid while they navigate their talents

He'd teach them everything they wanted to know, but only when they asked him to, and he would try to make it as fun as possible

and he'd worry less knowing that he was in charge of their studies - he knew best how to keep them safe and happy, and that's what matters most to him

but he would not shelter your child - he'd be a pretty lenient dad

He'd let them do things other parents might not let their kids do, as long as it was safe and with both your and his permission

he's also just a fuckin goofball of a dad and loves making his kid laugh - and YES he is stocked full of dad jokes

(all of his kid's friends would love both of you)

He wouldn't shy away from teaching them about or letting them learn about more mature topics as long as it was in a way that was appropriate for their age

and as they grew, they'd be allowed to know more and more about such topics

for example, his very young child might ask "How did mummy and daddy meet?"

he wouldn't just tell his three-year-old that mummy and daddy were abducted from their homes and violated by mind flayers and met after crashing onto land and having to survive on the road to Baldur's Gate for several months with a constant threat of death or ceremorphosis looming over them

He'd say something closer to 'mummy and daddy met one day near a beautiful druids grove in Elturgard, and we fell in love as we adventured our way to the city of Baldur's Gate!' - and reveal more of the details as they grew

If your kid ever pushed too much on the details of a topic that was too much for them, he'd be really good about teaching them about how some topics they may not be able to understand until they're older - and that he'd share more of those details with them when they were able to comprehend better what certain things mean

As much as he loves all of his child's life stages for unique reasons, he'd particularly love the 4-6-year-old range

It's when they start to blossom into a person and he gets to see all of the specific opinions and interests form, but they're also still little enough to hold and cuddle

and it's right before the age that they start to become more independent; therefore not wanting/needing him as much as they used to

Once they're a little older, he would really miss the days when his child clung to him or always wanted him to pick them up or play with them - though he'd still find ways to embrace each new stage of their life

There would've been many moments - when his child was around 6 - where he'd hold their sleeping form in his arms and think about how one day they wouldn't need him like that anymore - and it would bring him to tears almost every time

moments like that are what would make him seriously consider having another child

he'd always come to you afterward for comfort, sinking his tear-stained face into your neck and wrapping his arms around you without a word

and when you ask him what's wrong, all he says is, "Our baby's getting big."

(whether he brings up having another baby is up to you)

and Gale would raise your child to have great respect for you

Really the only time you'd see him get stern or even yell at them is if they did something really fucking stupid and dangerous, or if they said/did something to disrespect you

He knows damn well you can handle yourself with your kid, but he doesn't want you to have to

and if they said something that actually hurt your feelings, oh boy

This is where his remarkable patience would be tested - as he would be incredibly disappointed with them

says something like, "I can see that you're having very big feelings right now, and you don't know how to handle them, but you will not talk to your mother like that."

If your child kept mouthing off (as kids tend to do), his voice would lower in volume as his stare practically pierced through them in disbelief, "Go to your room. We'll talk about this later."

oh, and talk to them he will - after several deep breaths and a slight prayer to the gods to give him strength

Expect an apology from your kid a few hours later after watching them shuffle into your room with their head hung and their father watching from the hallway with his arms crossed

I think something like that would honestly be embarrassing for him, and you'd even get several apologies from him about it despite how well he handled it and how it wasn't even his fault

Overall, Gale would be such a lovely father

His child would never feel unloved or uncared for, and he'd never disrespect them or talk down to them - he'd do anything to keep them happy and safe

I really hope y'all loved these! As always, comments are GREATLY appreciated and I love to hear people's thoughts on my headcanons!! <3

[sillysowa]

Ok I have a request :) could maybe guess who this is but AHDBSH

The fem reader is a villain while Hobie is the “hero”(not rlly but I forgot what it’s called) that’s been tracking down the reader. But, during the day the both live their normal lives, the readers day job being a barista at the local Cafe. Of course during the night her identity is hidden so she isn’t recognized during the day, which leads to the one morning when Hobie goes to the local coffee shop to order a drink and unknowingly ordering it from his masked nemesis.

What’d ya think? <3

I LOVE your brain anon! Sorry for the wait and if it seems rushed!

BEHIND THE MASK

pairing : hobie brown x fem!prowler!reader

genre : fluff, slightly suggestive

word count : 3k

warnings : violence

authors note : reader is the prowler but i have incredibly minimal knowledge on the prowler lol

synopsis : hobie has a date with a cute barista who just so happens to be the prowler

—

“And what exactly do you think you’re doin?”

Spiderpunk’s agonizing voice cuts through the silence of the night and you freeze in your tracks. You knew he’d find you tonight—always chasing after you like a moth to a flame, or a fly to a spiders web.

He drops down from the wall, thrusting his hands into his pockets and clicking his tongue, his loud boots slapping against the ground behind you,

“What’ya got in that bag of yours? Up to something you shouldn’t be?” He questions, coming right up behind you and whispering next to your ear. You turn around, your hands up as you look at him through your mask,

“Bold of you to assume i’ve done anything, I could just be out for a midnight stroll.” You shrug slyly, toying with him. You know just as well as he does that he could have tried to take you down by now, he’s clearly just wanted a little foreplay as usual.

“Oh, is it now? You’ve got this guilty air about you.” He asks, completely prepared for any attack that you might have up your sleeve, “You really want me to believe a dirty little liar like you, hm?” As he provokes you, his gloved hands reach up to your face only to get smacked away, but he only smiles harder—he expected it. A scoff can be heard from under your mask,

“Miss me, Spiderpunk? You seem awfully excited.” You sneer, voice muffled a deeper more menacing tone. His animated mask portrays his every expression, a squinty smirk plastered on his face,

“How’d you know?” He smirks, coming closer. You flex your fingers, claws baring menacingly before you rip a smoke bomb off your belt and slam it down, making Spiderpunk stumble back before you lunge at him through the cloud. His senses go wild, and he web shoots to the wall, swinging around and pulling his guitar out while you’re down. Your momentum landing you on your knees after he dodged, and you can’t react fast enough for his attack. He’s got his guitar above his head before he slams it down on your back,

“Ah!—Fuck me!” You grumble, rolling over and jumping up, shaking your head with your hands in front of you defensively.

“Only if you ask nicely, gorgeous,” He’s got his guitar out on display as if it’s a sword, making you scoff,

“In your dreams.” Your crack your neck and lunge at him, grunting and swinging wherever you can reach from your stance. You’d never admit it, but his height creeped you out and excited you all at once. Never in a million years would you get with a person like Spiderpunk—a loud, obnoxious, wannabe ‘hero’—but the fact that he towered over you like he did made you nervous in the best way possible. You tried to ignore the feelings deep in your stomach and focus on the way that made you feel about your fighting, afraid that he could overpower you if you let your guard down even slightly—which you did. He had used his fucking guitar pick—the small object somehow slicing your arm. You gasped and he hurriedly backed up, nearly tripping over his feet. At first he was dodging your punches well until you threw a right hook in, your knuckles meeting his jaw with as much force as you could muster,

He had no time to react as he stumbled down. You kicked him across the face and pinned his hands down under your shoes. You knew you had to act fast and get the hell away from him,

“Couldn’t have wined and dined me first?” He quips, his wrists pinned beside his head and his legs spread under you. It’s quite a sight—the city’s hero sprawled out under you like this at your mercy. You shake the thoughts out of your head,

“Catch you later, Spiderpunk.” You rasp, reaching to your belt and popping the cap off a homemade bomb. His eyes triple in size as you throw it, your boot shoving his face down before you flee. He scrambles and slings away before the bomb explodes and the walls surrounding it crumble.

He watches from across the street as the damage ensues, cursing to himself when sees the faint glow of your suit as you disappear into the night. You were such a pain in his ass—but couldn’t keep away.

—

—?” You yell out the name of an order, setting a drink and pastry down. You smile at the customer who walks up and thanks you, giving them a quick smile before returning to the register, swapping out with your coworker,

“Thanks again, Y/N.” They sigh. This isn’t typical behavior from your coworker, they’re typically very hard working but they told you a chunk of their apartment complex was blown up last night. Of course, you had to sympathize with them and help make their shift a little easier—it’s the least you could do after being the unknown cause of their distress.

“Yeah don’t worry about it.” You wipe off your uniform and put on a smile for the customers of the small café you work at. It had been an exhausting shift—only 30 minutes in and it already felt like hell. You looked up ready to give your best customer service voice when your words caught in your throat…

The man in front of you was absolutely breath taking. He had these high cheekbones and pretty eyes, full lips with a ring to compliment them, perfectly styled hair and jewelry all over—god his fashion too. He had this punk rock thing going on, and he was absolutely killing it. Even his body language was attractive, the way his hands were on either side of the table, leaning over slightly to reach your level,

“Mornin’.” He starts, his deep voice only spurring on your attraction towards him, “Could I just get a…” He looks up, biting the inside of his cheek before sighing, “Having a hard time making a choice—wide selection you’ve got. What do you recommend?” He asks with a curious expression, bending down close to hear you over the machinery, clanging dishes, and customer chatter.

You’re stunned, not expecting you’d have to think. After a little stuttering, you can finally think,

“W-Well we have this Persian tea. It’s a black tea base with cardamom and rose petals?” You suggest, your face heating up when he smiles because of course he has the lost beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, “It’s my favorite.” You add, voice coming out oddly quiet and now you’re incredibly embarrassed for reasons you can’t name,

“Sounds perfect, gorgeous.” He eccentrically squints his eyes and shakes his head as he speaks, half lidded eyes locking with yours again.

“And the name for your order?” You ask, tapping in the details on the screen before making eye contact with him,

“Hobie.” And of course, there’s something about the way he says his name that has you melting, but you desperately try to ignore it and pull yourself together. He whips out his wallet and hands you a large bill, your fingers slipping against his as you take it into your hand. You ring him up and gather his change, which he adamantly refuses to take,

“Keep it.” The stunning man winks, walking away and waiting in the line of others who have ordered. For a moment, you stand there completely appalled. When you turn to look at your coworker she’s already staring at you,

“…Oh my god?” She mouths, her hand over her mouth, “You better go make his drink and write your number on his cup, girl—move over i’ve got the register.” She laughs in disbelief, just as flustered as you,

“Thank you, thank you.” You hurriedly giggle, feeling guilty almost at her eagerness before moving out of her way and fumbling around, steeping his tea immediately. You were extra meticulous when crafting his order, wanting it to be just perfect. You caught glimpses of the rockstar-like man over the counter a few times, and almost every time he was already looking at you. You had to bite your lip to fight back the smile that tugged at your lips. When you poured his tea in a cup and clicked the cap on, you pulled out your sharpie and wrote his name messily, scribbling your number under it. With a cheeky smile you set the cup down,

“Hobie?” You call out like you have no idea who he is despite holding eye contact with him. He walks over, pulling a hand out of his pockets and wrapping his long fingers around the cup,

“Thank you, doll.” He rasped, scanning you over one last time when suddenly he squints,

“Y’alright? Doesn’t look like just a little scratch.” He asks you with his eyebrows furrowed, pointing low and squinting in concern. You’re just as confused as he is for a moment, looking down with your heart stopping as you realize it’s the cut from when Spiderpunk sliced you with his guitar pick, the memories of last night flooding into your brain and causing a panic in your nerves, your adrenaline pumping in a flash,

“Oh this? I got this from a clumsy accident the other day, it’s really no biggie.” You brush it off, covering the cut with your hand and cursing internally. You want to hide and never show your face again, the worst possible outcomes clouding your thoughts. He doesn’t seem concerned about your response, taking it for the truth,

“You better be more careful then, yeah?” He playfully chastises, turning to leave, “See y’round, pretty.” And with that, he walks out of the café, humming in delight at the flavors in your favorite drink. He’s almost done with his drink when he finally notices your number on the cup, laughing to himself and freezing in his tracks.

—

You got a call that night after your shift—you knew you would. When you picked up the phone and his deep voice was on the other end you just about melted into your bed.

“Hey, Hobie.”

“Hello, lovely—never got your name.” He mutters on the other end, background shuffling and movements loud enough to reach your ears. He sounds like he’s flipping switches and plugging stuff in,

“It’s, Y/N.” You chirp. Hobie feels a smile take over his face as he learns your name, repeating it a couple times,

“Such a pretty name you’ve got.” He coo’s his voice low and sultry. You smile widely, stupidly giddy over this

stranger,

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He says smugly. On the other side of the phone you can faintly hear what sounds like a guitar, an electric guitar, “How about we go out sometime, yeah? When can I see you?” He asks, his voice charismatic.

You think, caught between wanting to see him tomorrow and wanting to be careful about who sees you that day. Tomorrow you had shady plans, and you didn’t want to get him roped into it, “Hm…it sounds weird but can I see you at nine?” You ask with a questioning tilt in your voice, “I understand it’s late but—“

“No worries, hun, works f’me.” He insists, causing you to sigh in relief.

“Okay great! thank you, Hobie.” You smile, fidgeting with your clothes anxiously. He hums and you feel your heart race,

“See you then, Y/N.”

—

Tonight would be the craziest heist of your life if you could pull it off. Keyword, if.

You didn’t know, but Spiderpunk had been following you the entire night. He had to keep a close watch on you after that stunt you pulled last time. You had somehow managed to outsmart him and he couldn’t let it happen again. You were currently in an alleyway, your pace fast and your head down—you honestly couldn’t look more suspicious as you walked towards the bank.

“Don’t think so.” He mutters to himself, slinging down and following you stealthily. He crept along the walls, keeping a watchful eye on you as you literally sawed open the wall, following close behind.

You on the other hand had a lot of tasks you were juggling all at once—you were texting Hobie telling him you’d see him in 15 minutes, sawing the building open, and watching your back simultaneously.

Spiderpunk, who couldn’t yet see you well enough to notice you were texting with your other hand, jumped when his phone vibrated with a notification. He pulled it out and quickly checked it, his heart racing at your name lighting up his screen. He just had to take you down to make it to the date on time—easy peasy.

He crept into the bank, catching a glimpse of you breaking into all their stashes and safes, literally stuffing cash into your bag. You look rushed and panicked, not as tactful as your usual self. He find it entertaining and comical decided to mess with you a little,

“In a hurry?” That low and taunting voice makes your skin crawl, whipping your head around, fingering tightening on your bag. Of course he was here, how could you have missed him? Or more importantly, how could he have not missed you? You knew it was a shot in the dark to just assume he wouldn’t find you this night as he always does—you bet he has some kind of affinity for you. A gravely sigh tumbles from your lips, shaking your head and slinging your bag over your shoulder,

“Look—I can’t fool around with you tonight, let’s skip the small talk.” You grunt, clicking your claws into readied fists, staring him down with precision. Spiderpunk liked fighting you when you were playful, but there was something about fighting you when you were annoyed that really excited him,

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He teases with a low whistle, webbing towards you feet first. You dodge, grunting and lunging at him, both of you rolling until he’s got you under him, attempting to restrain you. You bring your knees up and kick him off of you, jumping up and circling him. He stares you down for a while, that messy painted mask squinty-eyed,

“Come on.” He sneers, beckoning you with his two, very long, middle fingers suggestively. You laugh at this, lunging at him in a series of calculated movements. He fights you off, throwing out quips and sly remarks to fire you up. You swing at him, your claws out, and he struggles against you when you attempt to stab him with them, pushing your wrists against the wall and grunting through the struggle. You’re shaking under him, hissing and squirming in an attempt to free yourself when he webs you to the wall.

“Fuck! God—“ You groan, frustrated and beyond pissed at what this means for you. Hobie’s face flashes in your brain and you cringe at the idea of standing him up like this,

“Please! Please just let me go this time…” You grunt, the webs holding you down like a barricade as he pulls your bag off you, spilling the contents out onto the floor—your phone, your outfit for the date, and all the money scattered across the cool tile,

“What’s with the dress? Got a date tonight?” He hums, picking up the fancy garment before dropping it back in place when you just scoff. Hobie reaches down to gather up the money when he notices the time on your phone, straightening up and pulling his own phone out,

“Shit—it’s that time already?” You watch as he hurriedly texts someone, his thumbs dancing across the screen. You slump against the wall as much as you can being restrained, sighing in pure frustration when your phone buzzes.

You both freeze—you because you’re deathly embarrassed and Hobie because his heart drops into his stomach. Directly after he sent a text to Y/N, your phone lit up. He looks at you, trying to decode your body language as he bends down and picks up your phone, confirming his suspicions.

Sure enough, there’s a text from him, or ‘Hobie,’ right in the middle of your lock screen. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, laughing to himself with his shoulders shaking in tandem.

You on the other hand are completely and utterly unaware of what just happened, still stuck to the wall and helplessly watching the scene in front of you. He stuff his and your phone into his pocket, muttering something to himself that you can’t quite make out before he walks towards you, the soles of his boots echoing in the dark empty bank,

“What the—why did you take my phone? What are you-“ Your rambles are cut short as his gloved hands come up to your mask, removing it despite your protests. After tossing it to the ground, he simply takes it all in. It’s you, his date—the prowler. You’re obviously still completely oblivious to what’s transpired and therefore furious,

“Answer me asshole! What good is seeing my face gonna do for you?“ And now, it’s your turn to be completely speechless as Spiderpunk pulls his mask off. Hobie’s dark hair springs out, his pretty face glowing in the low light and a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches you swallow the same truth as he did,

“Cant say I was expecting this.” He whispers coyly, eating up the way you instantly grow quiet and flustered, this extra layer added onto your relationship clearly only exciting you more. You gulp nervously, your heart racing at this sudden turn of events,

“Me neither…” You whisper, simply unable to be mad or upset when now you’ve got your cake and you’re about to eat it too.

Hobie doesn’t do much thinking when he unties you and kicks the money aside, or when he tells you to put on that pretty dress and let him take you out properly. You’re completely stunned, staring down at your prowler claws before stuffing them in your bag and walking out the hole you cut into the bank, Hobie waiting against the wall for you,

“So…about all of this?” You awkwardly chuckle, motioning to the bank, the money, and the mess. Hobie being the anarchist he is simply shrugs, extending his palm for yours and clasping it when you place it against his, slinging away into the night to finally go on that date,

“Not my problem.”

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Scratches

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.2k Warning : Injuries, nothing graphics. Matt being dumb that he inflicts injuries to himself. A bit of angst I think. Synopsis : The lack of knowledge about her wellbeing is doing everything but put his mind at ease and Matt wasn’t sure how long he could live with such torture. Notes : Special work for my precious @basementsoup. I hope you like this Alex! ♡ If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Matt hated it.

He hated having to admit that he still needs her. That even after months of separation, the many helping hands he found and friends he could’ve come to, he still found himself scrambling back to her apartment. He hated that in the lowest moments in life, her soothing touch and gentle words were the only thing that helped him stay afloat.

But nothing beats the hatred he felt when he finally managed to get inside. He hated how there’s a new pot of sunflowers placed by the widow. He hated how the pictures on the walls are now gone, replaced with what seems to be mirrors and other wall decorations. He hated, the most, how his scent no longer lingers in the air.

Before he could drown himself deeper into the wallowing, the sound of keys jingling and door knob twisting were heard. His heart paced for a split moment. A short period of regret washes over him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have barged in tonight.

“Matt,” She called, surprise was evident in her tone. Her heart skipped a beat and Matt wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the reasoning for it; is she glad to finally see him again or is she hating their reunion?

“I broke your pot,” He says instead “I didn’t realise you'd done some redecorating.”

“Yeah, I, uh.. I needed a change of setting.” She answers as she takes off her coat, tossing her bag to the floor once she realises his bruised face “Oh, God, not again.”

Matt tries his best to suppress the blooming smile on his face as he feels her fingers examining his face, “It’s just a light scratch.”

“You always say that,” She protests “I can find you on your deathbed, bleeding away, and you’ll still say it’s just a scratch.”

“Has it ever been more than a scratch?”

Matt knew that she must be glaring at him right now. The change in her breathing is clear for him to tell that he’s bruised her patience. But even with annoyance and vexation boiling her blood, her care and worry for him will always overshadow it.

“Come, I’ll clean your wounds.” She says as she holds his arm.

A small kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in his heart. She knew that he could navigate himself to the sofa. He only broke the pot because he wasn’t expecting any change of setting in her apartment but now that he knew, he’ll be sure to be more careful in moving around, so there’s truly no need of her to guide him this way. Yet again, why would he complain?

“What is it this time?” She asks as she went to the cabinet to get her aid kit “Fisk? Castle? Some thugs?”

“Would you believe me if I say I fell off the bed?”

She turns and eyes him with a glare.

“Alright, not the bed then,” He jests “Stairs. I fell down the stairs.”

“Not funny, Matthew.”

“What, can’t a blind man fall from the stairs?”

She lets out a sigh. Matt could sense her defeated shoulders from the way she dropped the aid kit, “You wouldn’t come here if you only fell from the stairs, Matt.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Truth is Matt has tried his hardest to stop himself from seeing her. He’s fought every urge to jump out of bed at night and come to her. Every little thing in his life pushes him to get closer to her. Like a magnetic force he couldn’t seem to escape. He wanted to ask her what tea he should get from the grocery shop. He wanted to ask her if he should wear the blue or the red tie for the court trial the next day. He wanted to ask her if he could borrow some sugar though the trip to the grocery store is far closer than having to walk to her apartment.

Anything that happens in his life, he wanted to share it with her.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again, Matt.”

“I know,” He nods, licking his lips as he tries to show an apologetic smile “I’m sorry.”

Matt could feel the sofa shifting when she took a seat next to him. He could smell the water from the bowl on her lap and the rest of her aid kit that are now laid on the table. This feels painfully nostalgic. To have her tend his wounds yet for the first time, he knew that he won’t be getting the one true cure he needs — her kisses.

“Are there any other bruises or wounds than the ones on your face?” She asks as she begins cleaning his skin “One of these days you’re gonna need to get yourself a real professional help. Like a personal nurse or doctor. I won’t be here forever to help you.”

“Won’t you?”

“You’re not exactly the easiest patient to tend to,” She answers with a teasing smile “I’d say the chance is pretty high.”

“But I’m your only patient. You need a comparison to say that I’m the worst of your patients.”

“No one can be this much of a pain in my ass than you, Murdock. You know that.”

Matt only smiles at her remarks. He wanted to bask in this moment. To suffocate himself with her gentle touches. To hear the beat of her heart that has become his personal ballad. To know that no matter how far the distance between them grows, she will forever be his true north.

Her movement was put to a short halt when her fingers bruised his lips. He can’t see her but he hopes that the longing in his face is mirrored on her. That she misses the feeling of their lips touching. That she misses the feeling of his lips whispering sweet nonsense in her ear. That she misses him too.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” She says instead as she abruptly stands from her seat “If you don’t have any other injury, I think you’re good to go.”

Matt forces a laugh, “What just happened?”

“I don’t know, Matt, you tell me! What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I fell down the stairs.”

“Yeah, and you couldn’t have asked Foggy or Karen to help with your wound?” She asks, her volume slightly rising in frustration “Do you even feel those wounds? Because I know you have that superhero metabolism thing and I’ve seen you get worse injuries. You can’t just come here, spend half an hour to get to the other side of the city, just to get some bandaid for your scratches.”

Her heartbeat has gone frantic now. Matt could feel the frustration, the anger, the disappointment from all the words she uttered, but the most evident thing he could hear was how much she worries for him. How much she wanted to embrace him as she once did. How much she wanted to show him the love she hoards for him, even without saying it out loud.

It had been a few painful weeks leading up to their separation. He could hardly remember the last time he’s slept a wink. There’s always someone crying for help, someone screaming in agony, wailing in pain and despair that he just had to go out there and lend a hand. And even with all of his God gifted abilities, there’s only so much he could take before he succumbed to his demons. And unfortunately, this is one of the few battles he has to admit losing.

Even up till this moment, Matt still tries to convince himself that he didn’t regret ending things between them. It needed to be done. He had to make sure that the Daredevil and his business wouldn’t come between him and her. He needed to make sure that the enemies he made along the way would never find their ways to her. He needed to make sure that when the Daredevil himself had to make penance for his sins, he wouldn’t drag her along with him to hell.

And the only way he could save her is to cut the relationship clean.

But Matt is as much of a selfish man as the next person. He couldn’t keep away from her for too long. The thought of her moving on peels his skin when it should’ve given him the satisfaction and fulfilment. The way her shampoo no longer lingers on his pillowcase gives him nightmares. The distance that he thought would be her safety net soon turns into a limbo of anxiety and worry. The lack of knowledge about her wellbeing is doing everything but put his mind at ease and Matt wasn’t sure how long he could live with such torture.

“I didn’t lie when I told you I fell from the stairs,” He explains softly “I— I’ve been wanting to come and see you but I just— I don’t know how.”

Her heartbeat slows, completely focused on his words now.

“I thought about purposely messing up my laundry and calling you for help. I thought about using that wrong detergent for our— my blankets, but I know you’d never forgive me.” He confesses, a pathetic chuckle escaped his lips “I mean, I wouldn’t want to ruin those blankets, to be real. They’re precious to me. We use them for our movie nights.”

“So you figured you just fell down the stairs?”

He shrugs, a small embarrassed smile curved on his face, “I had to make sure you won’t kick me out and slam the door on my face.”

“You’re an idiot, Matthew.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” She seethes, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and running a hand through her hair in frustration “You— You can’t just end things between us and suddenly barges into my apartment, begging me to clean your self-inflicted wounds. That’s not how things work, Matt. That’s— That’s cruel.”

And that’s when he feels it. The foul taste of salt from her tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. The night just keeps getting worse and worse, so it seems. It was never in his intention to make her cry though he’s got to admit that he’s done that one too many times. He only wanted to see her, to feel her touch one more time, not to cause an even greater pain to their gashing wound.

“What do you want from me, Matt?” She painfully asks, her voice cracks from the heartache “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Is that what you want? For me to leave you alone?”

A bitter laughter escapes her lips, “I want you to love me, but that’s clearly not on the table, so I suppose being left by you would be the best option.”

Carefully, Matt stands from his seat and walks toward her. He reaches for her face, feeling the wetness of her cheeks under his calloused fingers. It pains him to see her this way. To know that he’s caused her more pain than happiness. All because he thought he knew better when clearly he didn't.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” He confesses “It’s because I love you that I ended things between us.”

Matt could feel the skin on her forehead scrunching, clearly from the confusion of his words.

“It was becoming unsafe for you to be with me. I made too many enemies, too many people that wanted to avenge their anger to me and it was only a matter of time before they knew about the one thing that would hurt me most and I can’t— I can’t risk that.”

“So I’m, what? A weakness?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are my weakness,” Matt says with a nod “And I couldn’t care less about having a weakness, believe me I don’t care about my soft spots, but you..” He pauses, cupping her face gently as his eyes become glossy “You.. You, I cannot ignore. Just the thought of someone, laying a hand on you, hurting just a strand of your hair.. It drives me nuts. I care more about you than anything. So if staying away from you is the only option I have, if it’s the only way I can minimise the risk of harming you..”

A tear finally rolled down his cheek. It feels liberating to finally confess all of his reasoning, to finally let her know the cause of his discourteous actions, but there’s still no solution to their problem. There’s still a huge question mark for them to tackle and he wasn’t sure if he’s ready to reach that point yet. He wanted to still feel her touch, to hear her calling his name even if they’re filled with her venomous tone.

“Matt—”

“Tell me,” He cuts in, trying to recollect himself from the turmoil “Do you want me to leave? Would it be best for me to leave you be?”

“No, no I never want you to leave.” She answers as she pulls him for a hug, burying her face to his chest and wetting his shirt with her tears “Don’t leave me, please.”

Matt welcomes the embrace in no time. He pulls her close, making her stand on her tippy toes as he lifts her. He misses this. The warm scent of her perfume, the pressure of her on his body, the feeling of her heart beating against his chest. This feels like home. She feels like home.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers to her ear “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I don’t need your apologies, Matt. I just need you to promise you’ll stay this time.”

He nods eagerly, pulling her impossibly close to make sure that she hears him, “I promise.”

[solarmorrigan]

Steve Harrington gives me Beach Boys vibes

Like. Steve's a little neutral on pop; he doesn't hate it, but it's not usually his first choice. But like a lot of kids, his musical exploration begins with his parents' collection

He finds his mom's Beach Boys albums when he's about twelve, a little after they start leaving on longer trips and he starts poking around the house because he's bored and alone. He can sort of remember his mom playing them when he was really young, can remember her dancing around the kitchen and being silly in ways she usually isn't

He starts playing the Beach Boys when his parents are gone, just sometimes, because the songs have a pretty good beat and the lyrics are fun and it makes him feel a little less lonely. He's got one playing one evening when his parents get home earlier than expected; his dad just shoots him a look at tells him to "turn down the damn racket" (which Steve does, quickly) before stalking up to his office, but his mom stands in the living room doorway, just watching him for a moment

It's the first time in a long time he remembers her just sitting down with him, smiling, laughing, listening to the music with him. She tells him about the first time she heard the band on the radio, and about how she'd gone out to buy their album the very next day. She tells him that his dad had called in to the local station more than once to request "Barbara Ann" because he knew it was her favorite (Steve can't imagine his dad doing anything like that, but he guesses his mom would know better than he does). She tells him that when he was little, too little to really remember, he would ask her to play "the surfing song," even though she was pretty sure he had no idea what surfing was

They don't do it again, but Steve holds onto the memory

He keeps playing the albums. He gets them on tape, when he happens to see them, and then he can play them in his car when the mood strikes. He wouldn't call himself a fan, exactly, but he doesn't have a better word for it. He ends up memorizing a lot of the lyrics, and finds that he doesn't mind having that knowledge at all

December of '85, the first holiday season Steve and Robin spend together, Robin is ready to tease Steve mercilessly for not only knowing all the words to "Little Saint Nick," but for singing along with it while standing at the counter of Family Video. In public. Steve takes it with good grace, but he also makes sure she also knows all the words by the end of their shift. They sing it together every time it comes on the overhead speakers after that

(Steve gets the feeling Robin's enjoyment is half ironic, but he doesn't mind. Her joy as she sings is sincere, and that's the important part)

Robin isn't the last convert he manages to induct, either

"Kokomo" comes out in '88, and Eddie wants to hate it. Really he does. It's really not his speed, he doesn't like surf music, but he just - he can't quite bring himself to dislike it. Not when Steve is listening to it on the radio in the kitchen, singing along, dancing around unselfconsciously while he does the dishes (moving his hips in ways Eddie does not want to associate with the Beach Boys)

But of course, the second Steve catches Eddie listening with anything other than disdain, it's all over. He turns all his attention on Eddie, singing to him, trying to beckon him into the kitchen to dance with him while Eddie valiantly tries to hold out against the fucking dork-ass romantic he's been dating for over a year

Steve points him and then curls his fingers in a "come hither" gesture as he croons along with the radio, telling Eddie to "come on, pretty mama," and Eddie has to let his head hang back while he tells Steve "I hate you," just so Steve won't see how hard he's smiling

He does end up dancing, his head resting on Steve's shoulder because he's laughing too hard to hold it up on his own, his eyes watering while Steve continues being ridiculous just for him

(It is absolutely not their song, but many years later, it does end up on Eddie's carefully curated wedding playlist. He disavows all knowledge of how it got there)

[paradiseismine]

Finn Wolfhard Headcanons

Pairing: Finn Wolfhard x f!reader

Warnings: a bit of fluff + lots of smut (but mostly soft smut, cause Finn is a gentleman)

Love note from Nina: I’ve just started this side blog due to the recent lack of new Finn smut content on here. Basically, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Requests are open and I’ll write for all of Finn’s characters (and Finn himself, duh), except for Richie. I hope you all like it, I can also take constructive criticism quite well (English is not my first language) :) anyways:

Fluff

- Finn Wolfhard was definitely born in the wrong era: you couldn’t believe that one of gen Z’s most prominent stars would simply love to show off some old timey chivalry.

- Whenever he’s going to drive you somewhere, he always gets out of his car, walks around it and opens the car door for you. When you reach the destination of each drive, he does the same thing, but also offers his hand to help you stand up.

- If he takes you to a restaurant, he’s also going to pull up your chair so you can sit - and, for God’s sake, you’re not even touching that bill. It’s always his treat. He just wants to make his girl happy, and you must let him, of course.

- Despite fame and all it includes, Finn is not hesitant in holding your hand or having his arm around your waist in public - as long as you’re okay with it. He loves to show you off, he’s so proud to have you as his girlfriend. Everyone around you must know that.

- Being a rising star, your schedules don’t always match perfectly, so he’s bound to spend a few weeks away every once in a while to film/direct something. That being said, one of his main love languages is gift giving: he loves to bring you little presents from all his work trips - mostly small dainty jewelry, beautifully knitted sweaters and well, basically anything that made him think of you while he was away.

Smut

- Whenever he gets back from a work trip, you already know what to expect: being showered in gifts and physical touch. He missed you a lot and you must know how much he did.

- Neck kisses are a must. Finn knows the exact spot that makes your knees buckle, and he’s not afraid to use that knowledge in his favor.

- There’s usually lots of whispering in your ear about how much he missed you, how good you smell, how smooth and perfect your skin is. Your earlobes are also getting plenty of nibbles and gentle sucking. He’s all about those pretty moans he gets out of your lips.

- When it comes to taking clothes off, Finn is always subtle and delicate. His fingers lightly trace your dress’ thin straps and pull them down slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him if you want - but you’re always as hungry for him as he is for you.

- Each little piece of newly exposed skin gets its round of kisses and gentle touching. Finn worships your body and your soul more than anything else in the world. He wants you to know how much he appreciates you, he wants to make you feel safe in his arms at all times.

- When the time comes, Finn loves to eat your pussy. He loves the smell, the taste, the texture, everything. The way you shiver under his touch, hissing and squirming, always gets him hard in a split second. His big warm hands know their way both around and inside you: the perfect speed, pressure and angle. That boy is sure to make you cum and suck off his own fingers afterwards - you taste so good he can’t get enough.

- Finn’s a gentleman, of course, so he takes the “ladies first” thing quite seriously. If you haven’t already cum at least three times, your pussy is not soaking wet and you’re not begging him to enter you, you’re not ready for him yet. He takes his sweet time driving you crazy before claiming you.

- As he lines up with your sweet entrance, he always always always looks you in the eye and asks, his voice faint with lust “may I?” As desperate as he is to get engulfed by your delicious cunt, he still finds consent to be the hottest thing ever - and so do you.

- After he gets a verbal response (‘cause I swear that boy can be such a tease if you simply moan), he usually starts off gently, letting your body adjust to both his length and girth. His dick is so thick it still needs some patience and adjusting, even after all this time you’ve been together.

- He keeps his thrusts at a slow pace until you’re satisfied. Then, and only then, he speeds up and allows himself to release. Finn absolutely loves to spill into you, filling you up with warm ropes of his cum. You’re his and only his, and somehow, he feels as if cumming inside you is a way to show you that. To show you that he owns you.

- After you two come down from your highs, it’s all cuddles and pillow talk. Finn is mostly a big spoon, but won’t mind being a little spoon if you want him to.

- In the end, all he wants is to have you in his arms as long as possible, savoring the peace and the warmth he gets from feeling your heartbeat and your body touching his. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

[eruminx]

what the adult trio needs to be fulfilled in a relationship

hisoka needs...

- sex, excitement, and attention LMAO

- bro needs a round daily, he cant remember a day in his life where he hasn't came at least once

- except for maybe infancy and young childhood

- he's too horny for his own good

- needs to be your number one priority

- whether ur his number one doesn't matter

- you need to be ready to give him attention whenever he wants it

- unless he was trying to get a reaction out of you, he wouldn't ignore you because he understands the desire for attention

- but expect him to ghost you every now and then

- that doesn't mean he's not watching you, because he totally is

- he picked up a few trick from illumi lol

- and it's almost never personal

- buttttt, if you manage to trick him into opening up the ghosting and obsessive stalking would become more frequent

- he'd want to know more of your weaknesses than you know of his

- in a way, he does like to feel weak, only because it turns him on though

- if you manage to keep him excited and hold his attention for long enough, he'll get attached

- he'll be your dog LOL

- surprisingly loyal if the relationship is serious and you guys have known each other for multiple years

- simply because he knows he can count on you

- but he's not sexually monogamous, and doesn't super care if you are

- only allows one night stands tho

- would kill the person if they tried to continue anything

- and would bring you their head

- like when your cat kills a bird and then brings it to you cuz it's so proud of itself

- that's just his way of showing u how much he loves u LMFAO

illumi needs...

- control, submission, and patience

- he's a total control freak. classic manipulator shit too

- uses text book manipulation when you disagree with him so if you catch on it's not really a problem

- lacks a lot of understanding of emotional needs and empathy so you need to be patient and explain everything to him

- or else he'll be like "why are you crying? your grandma died? that isn't something worth crying over."

- he never ghosts you

- ignores you only if he's really really pissed

- you must always be in a close radius, you're never out of his sight

- of course he requires all your attention, you are his number one and he expects to be your number one

- you go on missions with him, and if you don't it's because you're at the Zoldyck mansion or smth

- you are always in his grasp

- youre his doll, ok?

- if you guys aren't married yet, he doesn't think you two are are "dating" he just thinks you guys are engaged with no ring yet

- is 100% monogamous, and if you aren't he will make you be monogamous

- will kill anyone who looks at you in a way he doesn't like so it's not like u have an option

- yes he loves his family but he loves you a little more

- if you were somehow able to convince him to run away with you he would come along

- deep down he just wants love and if you love him that's all he really needs

- luckily he's not very socially knowledgeable

- it would be very time consuming, not impossible, but it would take a great amount of effort (esp with kikyo smh)

- doesn't really like physical touch at first but trust me that man needs a hug.

chrollo needs....

- commitment, intelligence, and a fairytale love

- would never admit it sober

- but he's a total hopeless romantic

- he just desires for a true connection

- like one where you guys are literally meant for each other and no one else

- someone perfect for him

- one where you understand each other well, you don't even need to communicate you just get each other

- he does need communication as well

- he's gone his whole life feeling like everything is temporary, and he just wants something that is forever

- wants to grow old together

- needs your 100% commitment

- doesn't ghost you exactly, but he does disappear for periods of time

- he'll tell you that it's a work trip but won't specify, even if you already know about the phantom troupe

- he'll be gone from two weeks anywhere to five months.

- but would never leave you hanging

- he'd send you stuff and text you everyday

- wants you to devote yourself to him

- at first he'll make you think he's devoted himself to you, but eventually he will come around and start to be more serious after a year or two passes

- bro doesn't want to be talking to a wall

- so you actually need to be capable of conversation and complicated discussion

- would form a book club

- by that i mean it's just you two and you read the same book to be able to discuss it passionately

- he is very passionate in many ways

- also you are to stay out of troupe business no matter what

thank you for reading and supporting me :) - eru

[just4koo]

best friends..? ❀ first kiss

→ character pairing : best friend!Jungkook x fem!reader → drabble summary : in which you two decide to share your first kiss together, because best friends do everything together... right..? → word count : 2.7k → warnings : foul language, slight toxicity/jealousy (maybe), conflicting feelings, unedited → genre(s) : fluff, crack, slight angst → note : i made this a series due to requests :) since the chapters aren't connected you can read this without having read the first installment but it's recommended you read "new perfume" first for background info!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

one thing that nobody knew about you and jungkook was that you shared your first kiss together. why? because it would only worsen the rumors about you two that were already bad enough. everyone always shipped you two, and if this kiss was something that ever got out, things would get much worse.

it seemed simple. you were stupid teenagers, two sixteen year olds. but it also wasn't that simple.

"jungkook, come on!" you impatiently whisper-shouted, grabbing the hand of your best friend to forcefully pull him out of your bedroom. your victim was still half asleep, subject to you shaking him awake just moments earlier.

jungkook was a bit (very) grumbly since you had woken him up from his slumber. who wouldn't be angry when they got woken up during the middle of the night, especially since he had just been so comfy using you as his pillow? but of course he had no choice, there was no way he could just roll back over and go to sleep when he saw the excited look on your face.

one of your favorite things during the winter was snow. it was so beautiful and you could just sit for hours watching it. lucky for you, in the apartment building the two of you lived in, there was an accessible roof. ever since you had discovered it one day when the two of you were playing in the stairwell it sort of became your spot. the two of you would sneak up there countless times without the knowledge of your parents.

tonight there had been a forecast on the weather channel that it was supposed to snow tonight. the first snow of the winter. even though the weather lady didn't specify what time it would start, you had already planned to stay up for it. you had witnessed the first snow of every year since you were 10 and that wasn't a streak you wanted to break.

jungkook had offered to stay up with you but as expected he'd succumbed to sleep 5 minutes into the movie you two chose. the way he was cuddling you made it very tempting to just doze off with him, but you didn't. you needed to stay up. so after hours of finding stupid movies to watch on your TV, it finally started snowing just a quarter past 04:00.

you had immediately shook jungkook in a not-so-gentle way, almost shoving him off of you so you could rush to put your sweatpants and winter jacket on. after taking a few moments to remember where the fuck he was, jungkook was following in your steps. he was pretty sure he put his sweatpants on backwards, but he had no time to worry about it when you started tugging him down the hallway.

"slow down, ______. you're going to wake your parents before we can make it out of the apartment." jungkook spoke in a quiet tone, getting a proper grasp of your hand so he could tug you backwards and slow you down a bit. you flashed him what seemed like an annoyed glance in the almost pitch black room but ended up slowing down.

once you got to the front door he went ahead and slipped into his boots, reaching for yours before you had a chance to do it yourself. he helped you into the shoes and tied them for you to make sure you didn't leave them untied in your haste and trip over your own feet. the whole time he was doing this you watched him, fighting the adoring smile that was trying to surface on your lips.

he made sure you were properly bundled up, putting earmuffs and gloves on your hands since he knew you'd want to stay outside for a while to watch the snow fall. you were someone who always forgot to take care of yourself, so jungkook was the one who did it for you. ever since he had gotten out of his aggressive adolescence phase around the age 14, he seemed to fall into a sort of caretaker role. it wasn't his fault that you were so clumsy all the time, or you would forget meals since you were too busy watching your stupid adorable cat compilation videos.

after the two of you had on all of your winter attire, he finally opened up the door as quietly as possible so you two could sneak out. the moment he shut the front door to your apartment, you were already grabbing his hand and running again, this time straight towards the stairwell. he let out a slight yelp of surprise when he felt his arm being tugged roughly. you always got so eager when you were excited about things.

"hurry up, we need to get outside before it stops!" you exclaimed as you launched up the stairs, taking it two at a time. just as he expected, that energy didn't last very long. your apartment level was pretty low compared to how many floors the apartment building had, and climbing 9 flights of stairs was extremely exhausting. by the time you were at the top you were leaning on top of jungkook and heaving breaths.

"what happened to hurrying up, huh?" jungkook questioned with a twinge of playfulness in your tone, smirking when he saw the way you glared at him. your cheeks were flushed and hair awry, lips pulled into a small frown. he knew what would cheer you up so he placed his hand on your back, opening the door that led to the rooftop. you two were instantly greeted by the falling snow. it was a pretty heavy snowstorm, already a few inches on the floor.

just as expected, you immediately brightened up once you saw the view outside. no matter how many times you'd seen it snow, it never got any less beautiful. you walked out onto the rooftop and looked up at the sky, admiring the sight of the snow falling. this was one of your favorite parts of living in the north, you were able to watch the snow practically every week.

the two of you walked to the little spot you both had constructed years ago, a makeshift canopy tent with a disney princess comforter on the floor that you two had stolen from your room and then spent an hour trying to convince your parents that the dog ate it. (they didn't believe that, obviously) it was definitely not a very pretty sight, but it worked for the two of you, nobody else ever visited the roof. the owners of the building probably had no idea that the door was actually unlocked.

the two of you sat down under the canopy to be able to see the snow without it falling on the both of you. as the two of you situated next to each other, you ended up with your head rested against his shoulder while he held his arm around you, his gloved hand rubbing your bicep. it felt so peaceful in this moment that he felt like he could fall asleep sitting upright, so he decided to just start talking.

the two of you never ran out of things to talk about. even though you had practically talked about everything since the two of you grew up together, you still could just converse for hours. because you two never seemed to get tired of each other. if anything, being together was energizing. you could never get tired of his melodic voice and laugh just like he would never be annoyed by the cute rants you always went on.

"i don't know, i just feel like if my girlfriend had a guy who was a best friend i would get jealous." jungkook said with a small shrug. your random conversations always got the two of you to some strange places, and tonight it had seemed the conversation had deviated to relationships. you were never really sure how your conversations evolved into the ones they did, but it was just where boredom got you.

"do you know how hypocritical you sound? you're saying that when you have a best friend who's the opposite gender." you replied with an incredulous look. jungkook just shrugged at that, although he didn't seem to take back what he said.

"i guess so. that's probably the reason i haven't had a relationship yet." he spoke quietly and you had to pretend that you didn't feel your heart break a little when you immediately registered the slight sadness in his voice.

it was hard to be a teenager and have every single girl curve you just because he had a girl best friend. he hadn't had a single romantic interaction because practically everyone in town knew about your friendship and always assumed it was something more than that. the only time he had even held hands with a girl was in the second grade. other than that, every other girl just avoided interacting with him.

he knew it was the same with you too, knew that you hadn't been asked out to a school dance or had one of those cringe middle school relationships that all of your other girl friends liked to joke around about. while every single one of your friends had a guy to gossip about, you always just sat there and listened. there were a few instances where your friends told you that a certain guy said you were cute but he wasn't going to ask you out because they didn't want to get their ass beaten by jungkook.

you honestly didn't blame them too much, since jungkook was pretty intimidating. despite that though, he wouldn't beat someone up just for asking you out. no, he would only beat them up if they ever dared to treat you wrong. maybe that was why any other boy was too intimidating to approach you. because nobody would ever be able to treat you up to jungkook's standard aside from himself. he hadn't trusted anyone else with you.

that didn't change the fact that you both felt bad for each other though. you were both missing out on a fundamental part of life. having your first significant other, first love, first kiss. the two of you were yet to experience any of that, and part of you wondered if you would ever possibly find someone who could accept the friendship you shared with jungkook. based on your luck for the past 16 years, you would guess that the answer was a no.

"i mean, i haven't either. not even my first kiss." you shrugged a bit. jungkook already knew this of course, since he would've been the first person you'd tell if it happened. he knew you were just saying this to make him feel better and he appreciated it. the two of you may never get to experience some of these things but at least you had each other's friendship.

"it sucks that we're both missing out on these things that practically everyone else has experienced. waiting for the right person is taking too long." you added on after a few moments. jungkook couldn't deny the way a small amount of jealousy flared up in his body at the thought of you finding someone to share your first kiss with. someone that wasn't him. and it seemed like he was too impulsive to keep that thought to himself.

"what better person to share your first kiss with than your best friend?" jungkook almost blurted out the sentence before he lost the sudden confidence. he had not only broken the silence between you two, but he felt as if he also broke the comfortable atmosphere. without looking down at you he could feel the way your body tensed through your thick layers of clothing.

"i mean- i'm just saying because like... we can't even find people who are comfortable with our friendship and nobody really wants to-" his jumbled up sentence was abruptly interrupted when he felt one of your mittens touch his cheek. it was if his whole body recoiled and his eyes darted down towards your face. your face was scarily calm and you were just staring at him. he was completely ready to play off what he said as a joke when you nodded.

"okay." you mumbled softly, and he swore that his heart had never started pounding so fast. due to his inexperience in romance, he had never really felt butterflies in his stomach... until now. he wanted to just take a handful of snow and shove it into his face to see if he was dreaming or actually experiencing this right now. but everything felt too real right now. he seemed to be noticing every miniscule detail right now.

the way your breath puffed softly into the air with every exhale, the soft blush that tinged your cheeks since you had just agreed to giving you first kiss to your best friend. the way that you eyes twinkled with the slight light from the city lights that were surrounding the both of you, and the snow that was still sprinkled lightly in your hair. but the most important detail that stood out to him was the way you were leaning closer to him. how those pretty lips looked like the softest thing. he found himself wondering how they tasted, and he'd be damned if he didn't find out.

and when your lips touched, all regrets simultaneously faded away.

all those years of feeling left out in life, the nights wishing that you would have someone to hold, someone to feel romance with. none of that mattered when you kissed each other. all of that was swept away, just like the breath from his lungs. he never knew that a moment like this would suddenly feel so intense, but he felt like right now he was being drowned and given life and nothing else mattered except for this kiss.

you weren't faring any better as well. the kiss was sweet. so much sweeter than you imagined. more so than the cookies you would bake together on a cold day, or the honey you would mix into your tea whenever you were sick. it's softer than the snow that surrounds the two of you in the current moment, impossibly softer than jungkook's voice whenever he's humming a tune to help you fall asleep at night.

the kiss tasted like the first shining rays of dawn, a start of something beautiful. it was a canvas upon which the sunrise of love would be painted. each touch was a brushstroke, creating a masterpiece of shared feelings written in the language of intertwined souls, feelings that had yet to be experienced until now. things that had been secretly brewing under the surface and shocked the both of you.

neither one in particular pulled away first, everything was too blurry to even remember it properly. both of you bombarded and overwhelmed with this emotions. the soft lights of the city around you which once illuminated your anticipation now exposed traces of vulnerability in both of your eyes - you couldn't help but wonder if jungkook had felt the same or if the symphony in your hearts was rather a solo performance on your side.

you had both unintentionally traveled into uncharted areas. words of everyone echoed through your mind right now, the countless times that you had been told that there was something more than just innocent friendship. jungkook could see the hesitation in your eyes, the instinct to retreat back into the safety of friendship the two of you had known for all these years. the promise to remain best friends for forever.

even the never-sleeping city of seoul and the intense snowstorm around you seemed to halt its movement, as if it was just waiting for something to be said. for a decision to be made, or for one of you to move back in again. waiting and waiting, and yet nothing ever came.

finally, a small, fragile smile spread onto jungkook's lips; an attempt to disregard the sudden tension in the moment surrounding you. it seemed to break you out of the trance you had been in, the world around you once resuming as you returned the smile back to him. as you gazed away from him and back towards the snow, the canvas filled with the starting of a masterpiece had been halted - waiting to be continued once again in the future.

your small canopy on the roof of your apartment was now a witness to what could've been, what might be. a shelf holding stories filled with chapters waiting to be filled and shared. but for now, it remained stagnant. this moment was held as nothing but that: a moment.

at least you could now join in the first kiss conversation with all of your friends.

end. ♥

[cinnbar-bun]

The Heartless Giant Pt. 5

Pairing: Crocodile x GN! Royal! Reader

Rating: SFW

Crocodile tries to discuss his dreams after getting a bit tipsy, revealing more of himself than you imagined.

WC: ~2.3k

Notes: Some mentions of abusive families (on Crocodile's end).

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 AO3

Taglist: @gingernut1314 @fanaticsnail @leafyturtle @pookiesnatcher @lolom @chaoticqueen33

You can say that since that meeting with Crocodile, he has almost infected every part of your mind. You sneak down whenever you can, you daydream of him, and, like he wanted, you begin to even dream of him. He is fascinating, so alluring, so dangerous in a way that entices you like an oasis in the desert. 

You can’t deny that part of you anymore, the desire to see every part of him, to know every bit about him- it gnaws at you. Inside and out, you feel yourself wanting to be the one who gets to be his closest confidant, the one who gets to see ‘him’. The way he dangles pieces of his life to you like a carrot on a stick makes you angered, but so, so enthralled. 

Only he can mess with you in such a frustrating yet thrilling way. 

Tonight, though, he is more sentimental after you brought him a bottle of wine, something he mentioned wanting offhandedly. He doesn’t complain about your generosity either, instead, popping the cork of the bottle with his golden hook. His dark eyes never leave yours as he begins to drink from the bottle directly. 

“Tell me, your highness, what dreams do you have?” Crocodile asks with an amused look on his face. 

“Dreams?” 

“Yes, dreams. What have you wanted for so long?” He elaborates. 

“Well, I always dream of learning more. I don’t have an easy claim to the throne, nor do I have the freedom like most people below my rank would have,” you begin. “But I’m lucky to be able to have access to things many will never have. I get to take trips and have tutors from anywhere come here to teach me.” 

Crocodile chuckles in a condescending manner and takes another sip. “That isn’t really ambitious. Not for someone of your skill. Isn’t that a pity?” 

“Well what dreams do you have, since they obviously must be so much better,” you retort. 

“Me? I haven’t had a dream in years. Not since I’ve been locked in here,” he chuckles bitterly. You glance down at your lap and recognize again that you have this luxury- the luxury to dream and walk around whenever you choose. Crocodile does not. It’s deserved, especially with his admittance to his cruelty, but it is one thing that you are afforded. 

“What did you dream about before being here?” 

“Hm, well now, let’s see if I can remember them,” he hums while another swig of wine is swallowed by him. “Now, when I was a young boy, I had dreamed of escaping.” 

“Escaping what?” You raise a brow. He gestures wildly with his index finger. 

“Everything. My family was not a good one. I was raised in poverty,” he closes his eyes. “My father would be abused by his boss and worked to the bone, and when he came home, he took his helplessness out on my mother and I. He had no filter, no joy, no love- only hatred. Besides working, all he was good for was being a drunkard.” 

Your jaw drops at this confession from Crocodile, never expecting him to have gone through such a thing. You stay quiet and listen as Crocodile continues. 

“I don’t hate my father for what he did. I simply saw the truth in why he was angry and violent. He taught me something valuable about life. Without money and wealth, you are powerless. No amount of strength, knowledge, or passion can replace what money gives you. Even the biggest fool can be on the top with just the right amount of wealth.” 

“That’s simply not true,” you attempt to argue, but Crocodile glowers at you. The look makes you freeze as he narrows his eyes. 

“You can say that quite easily, can’t you? Do you even recognize the cost of this wine?” He dangles the bottle in front of you. 

“I’m not sure.” 

“Exactly. This is vintage wine from a company that no longer exists. Do you understand that? This specific vineyard was blown to bits decades ago,” he explains, drinking more. “You have never had to worry a day about money, about suffering, about wondering if you have enough to eat for tomorrow. That is something you will never have to worry about.” 

You nervously look at your hands, away from Crocodile. 

“I don’t hate my father much anymore. He was a bastard, but I mostly just pity him.” 

“Why pity?” “Because, he may be a bastard, but he was an unlucky bastard. He probably died never knowing glory or excess. He never would have gotten to experience the taste of a fine cigar, or drink expensive wines, or even know what it was like to look at beautiful things. I am different from him. Not because I am not a bastard, but because, even for a brief moment, I got to experience the lap of luxury that few will ever comprehend.” 

He chuckles darkly, an unsettling laugh that makes shivers creep down your back. 

“And you think that was enough to ignore the pain he caused?” 

“It’s messed up, isn’t it? But it wasn’t my fault he wasn’t as lucky as me. Every limb I’ve lost, every scar on my body, every drop of blood I’ve bled-” he waves his hook around and traces a finger over the scar across his face. “That was luck. I should have been killed a million times over, but none have been able to slay me. He never would have been able to. He was beaten down and let himself stay a beaten dog to be used over and over.” 

You can’t find the words to say as Crocodile runs a hand through his hair, making his more ruffled and unsightly. It was clear through the slight trembling in his fingers and body he was becoming more inebriated. 

“But still, how could you say such a-” 

“Pity the fools below, your highness,” he spits. “They’re not worthy of your sympathy. People will take you down and eat you alive if you show a hint of weakness. You can hide in here, but out there? You are not safe. You never will be. You will never know peace. That’s how that world out there works, especially for us pirates.” 

You frown, letting his words sink in. “It’s despicable.” 

“What? What is despicable? Expecting the worst of others, or allowing them the chance to lead you like a lamb to the slaughter?” Crocodile smirks at your uneasy expression. He holds your chin and makes you face him. “You will not survive out there, (Y/n).” 

The way he says your name makes you freeze and lost in his empty eyes. He rarely ever uses your name, instead opting to call you ‘your highness’. But now he’s addressing you like an equal, like a normal person. 

You have no power here. 

You swallow. 

“The dreams the people outside have would make you hide away forever. They are like animals, starved for food and hungering, yearning for more. You are the bait. You have all this power and wealth, all the resources you can muster- yet you have the simplistic dream of ‘learning’? Let me teach you something important then.” 

He leans down to your level and snarls like a beast. “There a dime a dozen of those fools you call ‘heroes’. Those who believe they are strong, worthy, or even able to handle the weight of glory. They can’t. Your brothers, for example. All three get that chance to possibly rule before you? Hell, you may never see the throne either, since their children may inherit it before you. Are you really okay with those fools running your kingdom?” 

You clench your fists and look away, a feeling of guilt and disgust boiling within you. “No. I don’t like that. I never liked that.” 

“And why don’t you like that?” He smiles, knowing the reason. 

“Because it’s not fair- they don’t deserve it,” you admit quickly. All the years of jealousy, envy, and anger at the situation bursts from your throat. “They don’t know a damn thing! They don’t! They barely ever studied or listen to tutors and even our father, yet they get it first! I know I can be great! I can do good things for my kingdom- but I can’t!” 

You cover your eyes and try to refrain from tearing up in front of Crocodile. 

“There, there. See? It is unfair, isn’t it? But answer this for me. If they knew you felt like this, that you believed they were unfit to rule and that you wanted it more than them… tell me, how would they react?” Crocodile asks, his voice lowering. 

“They…” you try to think of what they would do. “I don’t know.” “That’s not true. You do know. You know they’d gang up on you. They know you can’t fight back. They’d maybe imprison you, perhaps fake your death, maybe even exile you at first chance. You allow them the benefit of the doubt that they do not deserve. You try to remain civil and fair, but the truth is, life is not fair. People like your brothers, my father, and I- well, we have ambitions. Some of us do not make it. But plenty of us will use any means necessary to get what we want. And when push comes to shove, do you truly think you will be able to fend them off? Or will you just continue to try and stay ‘fair’ towards animals?” 

“I…” you struggle. You were always taught to be fair, to be patient, to think of others so much- his line of thinking is sound but goes against everything you’ve ever know. You don’t know if you could ever face up against your brothers if they did decide to take you out. 

“I only tell you this so you do not end up foolish and weak like those I’ve known. You remain ‘chivalrous’ and you are easily taken down. When it comes to life, there are no rules or fair duels. Anything goes. Cheating, lying, stealing- they’re all part of life. Do not make yourself the one to be stolen from.” 

“And you think that this could stop me from being taken advantage of?” 

“It will. Stop settling and losing your ambition- use your resources to become the best you can be. Why not let yourself dream more? Go on, tell me a new dream, beyond what you said earlier.” 

“I… I would like to better my kingdom.” 

“How?” He demands. “Be more specific.” 

“I would like to be the one to lead my kingdom.” 

“That’s a start. But say more. I know you’re holding back.” 

You nod and steel yourself, clenching your jaw. “I want to be the ruler.” 

“More.” “I don’t want my brothers to rule.” 

“And?” 

“I want to stop being weak! I don’t want to be told I cannot do anything anymore. I’ve proven myself over and over!” 

“And who has taken away these opportunities from you, your highness? Who is the one who continues to praise you yet doesn’t change this unfair rule?” “It’s… it’s…” you tremble. “It’s my father. I have done so much. He knows I’m capable. Yet he continues to let my brothers have the first chance. It’s not right! I can do so much more, if only he would just let me and give me the chance to do so!” 

The excitement on Crocodile’s face is evident as he nods along. “Good. See? It’s good to be honest with yourself. You may love your father, but he has taken so much from you for the sake of tradition. Why don’t you finally do something about it instead of remaining passive?” Crocodile smirks. “So tell me again, what is your dream?” 

“I want to rule. I want my father to stop denying me what I deserve. I want my brothers to know that they had the chance, but they messed it up. I want to be the one who gives the orders, not just takes them!” You shout loudly. 

“And I know you can do just that. You’re too powerful to be made to submit like that. Are you an animal, (Y/n), or are you a true ruler?” 

“I’m not an animal!” You yell in confirmation. 

Crocodile chuckles quietly, gently stroking your cheek. “I know you won’t disappoint me. You will make a wonderful ruler. Just don’t listen to the beasts who try and tell you otherwise.” 

“I won’t. I won’t listen to them anymore. From now on, I’ll be stronger. I won’t let myself be taken advantage of, and I won’t let myself settle.” 

In the heat of the moment, you don’t feel the way his hand reaches for yours. He tugs it to get you to pay attention to him and you jump briefly, making him amused. 

“Heh, you need to work on your awareness. Always keep an eye open around you, your highness,” Crocodile begins, before he places his lips to your knuckles. You gasp at his brazen attitude while he chuckles again. “It’s simply my way of wishing you good luck.” 

“Thank you,” you bashfully reply. He lets go of your hand and shoos you away. 

“You have much to think about now, don’t you? Go. Rest up and tell me later what you have dreamed about. And don’t forget me. Your friendly jailbird, Crocodile, gets a bit lonely sometimes without you, your highness.” 

“I won’t be forgetting you anytime soon.” 

“Naturally. Now go give me something to smile about when you come back.”

[genshinimpactlife]

Yahoo! Heard that you haven't received any requeats for nsfw headcanons, soo I'm coming in with a request to do Cyno, Tighnari and Wanderer. With a s/o who reads lots of erotica, has general knowledge on how to make them melt— but is rather clumsy when it comes to their own actions! Would the boys guide their s/o or watch them struggle?

Also I was wondering if I could be one of your anons👉👈

Would 🎐anon be okay?

Clumsy but Knowledgeable Reader (NSFW)

Cyno was pretty experienced when it came to having sex and knew what he was doing. He expected the same from you.

He had seen you reading erotica one too many times, and you were very open to talking about sexual things.

But he had no idea just what you would be like until the first time you two were intimate.

You were so uncoordinated. You fumbled through trying to unbutton Cynos pants.

You tried to push him down on the bed, but instead, you tripped into him, and you both tumbled down.

You almost bit him multiple times when you went down on him and choked once by trying to take too much.

Honestly, he was having a surprising amount of fun with this, an amused grin on his face the entire time.

You were trying so hard, and it was just so cute. But he couldn't let you fumble around for much longer. He wasn't cruel to you like that. So he ended up guiding you on how to suck him off properly.

With his guidance, it wasn't long until he was cumming in your mouth, and soon after, he reciprocated the favor.

Tighnari couldn't ever hold back his amused smile when the two of you became intimate.

He wasn't sure if you became flustered or were just this uncoordinated during sex. Because any other time you were not this clumsy.

He wouldn't let you into his workspace if you were like this all the time.

When you tried to take your shirt off, you somehow got it stuck over your head. Tighnari had to help you get it off.

"I swear I know what I'm doing!!"

You once asked him to try this position from an erotic novel you were reading. But you just ended up a mess of tangled limbs with Tighnari.

He always finds it amusing but immediately helps if you are struggling.

Usually, he will take over, flip you on your back and do all the work like a good boyfriend, so you don't have to struggle.

He does not help you. On the contrary, he loves watching you struggle.

"You were talking such a big game earlier, and now you can barely ride me without fumbling."

He will degrade you every time you are clumsy. He finds it hysterical how knowledgeable you are while being so uncoordinated.

"Oh, can my dumb baby not figure it out?"

Yet praises always slip past his lips when you get the hang of things.

If you're having a particularly bad night, he will take over with a huff, telling you he doesn't have time for this.

Even though he acts like he's annoyed by it, he's not. He adores seeing you like this.

Of course you can! I added you to my Emoji anon list <3 I hope you enjoy!

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