#I thought about a year ago I was finally at the level of skill to maybe try to share again

[mcalhenwrites]

Seriously, I wish I knew what I was doing wrong with my writing, tho, bc if I want to be a career author, why can't I get anyone to engage with what I share for free? Isn't that a sign of being EXTEMELY BAD AT THIS?! (And yeah, lots of my followers aren't active, some might be bots that slipped through, and people miss things on their dashes, but most of the time, I get notifs for reblogging other people's writing from the couple of hundred who must still be active out of nearly 1k. Whatever I post? Not wanted.) And please don't "write for yourself" at me if you see this, bc I've been writing for over 30 years and couldn't name anyone else I am doing it for. Even with gift fics, I don't write anything I don't want to. Edit: Also like... it's hard to express these feelings and not go, "ugh, shut up shut up" to myself, but... I can't really keep going on like this (with the nonstop only-ever-experience-failure* part), I just can't. *Some people never do anything but fail, we try and try and try and maybe maybe maybe it'd help to be believed that when we can't swim on our own, we drown Another edit: I just... I want to be good enough, and I want to be happy, and I want time and spoons to write, and I want to stop waking up scared bc things keep getting worse and I can't save myself.

#I want to give up and never do and that's great for the handful of people who still want something to do with whatever the fuck it is I do #I thought about a year ago I was finally at the level of skill to maybe try to share again #but the truth is... I'm not sure I'll ever be good enough #if you have a hard time and struggle for this long how can you NOT question yourself????? #heck even stuff I reblog doesn't get much traction through me... like I'm some kind of taint on other writers #but even then the biggest taint is what I make and I might as well give up only I NEVER DO LIKE THE IDIOT I AM #and yeah my saying this isn't going to change anything #getting better doesn't change anything having confidence doesn't even change anything #I actually found out people are more hostile when you suddenly have confidence when they prefer when you didn't... #I'm trying not to lock all my writing up again but the urge to delete it or private it is so strong again #I don't think my writing is all that bad and some people see something in it but I need support and boosting or I'm just gonna wither #and at this point I'm going to die with my stories covered in dust and that feels like the only thing I deserve #and hell enough people openly agree with that sentiment that it's about all I know

[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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#svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #svt hard hours #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader

[aemondsbabe]

Gevie

summary: you finally agree to go for a ride on sunfyre and your betrothed certainly makes it worth your while

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, aegon being sickeningly sweet, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), breast/nipple play, dirty talk, doin' it on a dragon, gratuitous use of valyrian

word count: 4.5k

a/n: finally proving to myself that i can remain semi-tame with the word count, i bet y'all thought i couldn't do it!! they're fucking around on a dragon. he gets road head, except it's on sunfyre. they're very cute.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A high-pitched yelp rips its way from your throat as you feel Sunfyre move beneath you, stirring up dirt and dust from the floor of the Dragonpit as he beats his wings. Behind you, Aegon laughs, tightening his thighs around yours on the saddle and letting out an excited whoop as the dragon finally pushes off the ground. 

“Seven protect me!” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as soon as you see the world fall away beneath you as Sunfyre rises higher and higher into the air. 

“Eglikta, Sunfyre! Sȳz!” Aegon calls out, pulling at the reins on the dragon's saddle as he guides him up and out of the Dragonpit. “You need not be so worried,” he soothes you, his voice loud and clear behind you as he speaks over the air whipping around the two of you, “You are with a highly skilled rider, my lady.” He reminds you sarcastically. (Higher, Sunfyre! Good!)

You gasp loudly as Sunfyre tilts upward, making you lean heavily on Aegon, your back to his chest as the dragon flies higher into the air. “It is not the rider I am worried about!” You call over the rushing wind, not daring to open your eyes as you grasp onto the sturdy leather straps of the saddle, white knuckling the material. 

“Sunfyre is a part of me,” Aegon explains for the thousandth time, smiling as he steadies himself on the saddle, wide eyes flicking in every direction as he scans the skies, “I trust him with my life, and I trust him with you.”

This was a familiar argument, one you’d heard many times before over the previous months as Aegon tried time and time again to convince you to go riding with him; it was one of the first things he’d asked of you as soon as the courtship had been arranged nearly a year ago. 

You’d finally relented, much to the prince’s delight, when news of your marriage was officially announced. “Consider it an early wedding present, your grace,” you’d told him at the time. 

Oh, how you had come to regret those words now that your heart felt like it was in your throat, your hair whipping wildly in the air behind you as Sunfyre climbed ever higher. “M-My love,” you stuttered, trying your damnedest to keep your voice level, “Could we not stay closer to the ground?”

Aegon chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back even through the various layers you both wore to guard yourselves from the cold air. “Bē konīr, gaomagon jāre!” The prince spoke, Sunfyre grumbled beneath you in response. Although you did not understand the command, and certainly not the beast's response, you could feel the bond between your betrothed and his dragon — some invisible current connecting one to the other. (Almost there, keep going!)

“You should trust me more than this!” Aegon laughs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the side of your head, “You seemed to have plenty of it the night of the banquet last week,” he began in that brash, cocky tone you’d grown accustomed to, “When you let me shove my head up your dress in the gardens onc—"

“Aegon!” You chided, one hand abandoning the leather straps long enough to playfully swat him on the thigh. 

“What?” He asks, no doubt smirking deviously, “Surely there is no one to overhear us up here!” 

Suddenly, Sunfyre tilts forward, righting you in the saddle once again and making you let out an embarrassing squeal. “Gīda, Sunfyre! Dohaeris!” Some small amount of happiness at recognizing one of the words, dohaeris, manages to cut through the fear you feel, making you let out a small giggle. “Almost there, sweetling,” Aegon smiles, one of his hands abandoning the reins to wind around your waist instead, holding you securely to him, “You’ll love this.” (Calm, Sunfyre! Obey!)

Still squeezing your eyes shut, you nod wordlessly, tightly gripping onto his forearm, your thighs trembling around Sunfyre’s saddle. “Are we up very high?” You ask, your voice sounding small, even to your own ears. 

Aegon chuckles again, eyes scanning the horizon as the golden dragon finally breeches the clouds, “We’re just as high as we need to be, hush.” The vague answer makes you uneasy, but you do feel slightly calmer as you notice a change in the air. It’s calmer now, breezing around you like a soothing song, making your hair flutter about gently rather than whip at your face. It’s quieter too, you cannot even hear birdsong nor the rushing of air anymore, as if the two of you have entered a void. 

“Sȳz, Sunfyre. Gaomagon gīda.” Again, Sunfyre grumbles, his agreement to whatever Aegon commanded vibrating through your body. A moment later, the prince runs a hand through your hair, tenderly brushing it away from your face as he presses another light kiss to your cheek, one arm still holding onto you tightly. “Open your eyes, my love.” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. (Good Sunfyre, keep steady.)

Cautiously, you do as he asks and slowly open your eyes. At first, you cannot see much, blinking to dispel the tears brought on by bright sunlight, but once your eyes finally adjust, you gasp. You can feel your eyes widen to the sight before you, one unlike any you’ve seen before. Aegon had brought you up above the clouds, the dreary grey skies that had once been above you now spread out below you like an endless pale sea. Up here, everything was so bright, slightly pink tinted from the sun, and so stunningly still and calm, the only movement coming from Sunfyre gliding through the air.

“Gods,” you breathe, your grip finally loosening somewhat on Aegon’s arm as you scan the skies before you, “Aegon, it’s…” You trail off, mouth hanging open at a loss for words. 

“Beautiful,” he finishes, though when you turn your head to him, his gaze is already fixed on you, the corners of his lips turned up into a barely there smile. 

You can feel your face heat up at his attention, suddenly all too aware of how much of your bodies are pressed together on the saddle, of how his arm is still wrapped so securely around you. Despite being so far up in the cool atmosphere, you can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart beating faster as a pleasant, familiar coil starts spiraling in your stomach – your thighs tightening around the firm leather of the saddle in an attempt to press together. 

“You were right,” you smile contentedly at Aegon over your shoulder, “It is magical up here, my love. And so calm and quiet…” You let your voice trail off as you relax into his chest, his warmth encompassing you as Sunfyre continues gliding above the clouds, his beautiful golden scales gleaming in the early evening sunlight. 

Every once in a while, pockets in the thick cloud floor open up, giving you glimpses of green farmer’s fields, the blue water of lakes, or the dusty browns of the roads that litter Westeros. The pockets seem to zip by as quickly as they come, leaving you unsure of exactly where you are above the kingdoms. “I feel so far away from everything.” You conclude finally, a strange sense of calmness threading its way through the unease that still blankets your belly. 

“Precisely,” Aegon answers, a far-away look taking hold in his dark violet eyes, one you had grown used to seeing over the course of your courtship with the prince.

Now it seemed as if it was your turn to gaze at him instead of the view, letting him have a moment to himself as you admired him, eyes trailing over the gentle slope of his nose, the pout of his pink lips, the alabaster column of his neck. You couldn’t help but squeeze his forearm tighter, trying to ground him you suppose — ironic as it was — to save him from whatever snare he had been trapped in in his mind. 

All at once, whatever melancholy had taken hold of him seems to wash away with a small gasp as he comes back to himself, centering you with a calm smile, though to you it may as well be as dazzling as the sparkle of Sunfyre’s scales.

 “We are indeed far away up here, sweetling,” he drawls, the familiar smooth, cocky cadence back in his voice sending a shiver up your spine, butterflies erupting in your belly. “Away from court, away from guards,” he continues, trailing light kisses down the slope of your neck and onto your shoulder, relishing the way you sigh and go ever more limp against him, “Away from any prying eyes at all, really.” He finishes, raising his eyebrows in sarcastic surprise as he shrugs. 

You can’t help but laugh at his tone, morphing into an uncontained moan as his teeth lightly graze your shoulder, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as your head tilts back against him. “Up here?” You ask, your voice already breathy.

He chuckles against you, low and dirty, “What better place is there, sweet girl?” He asks, rutting against you atop the saddle, making you gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against the small of your back, “There’s no one up here to stop us, no one to see us…” he husks, pressing wet kisses against your neck as his hand, the one not currently wrapped around you, abandons Sunfyre’s reins, coming instead to press against your breasts – his touch, even through your layers of clothing, making your nipples harden, the coil in your belly winding ever tighter. 

You whine as he touches you, unable to resist him even after all this time. “Aegon, please,” you whimper, gasping as you feel him unbuttoning your overcoat, sending a chill down your spine from the cold air against your skin. You’re unable to find it within yourself to care when you feel his warm hand, encased in a smooth leather glove, encompass your breast, lithe fingers immediately seeking out your nipple and teasing it relentlessly, “Oh, my love!” You gasp, grinding your hips down against the leather of Sunfyre’s saddle. 

He shushes you gently, teeth grazing against the side of your neck once more before you feel his lips curl into a smirk. Slowly, he removes his hand from where it’s nestled beneath your overcoat and dress, chuckling when you whine; quickly, he pulls off one of his riding gloves, tucking it securely into a coat pocket.  “Suck,” he says simply, pressing his fingers against your lips. You do as he says without complaint, running your tongue over the digits before properly sucking at them, moaning unabashedly when he presses them further against your tongue. “Gods,” he groans, voice deep and gravelly, “I love being in your sweet little mouth,” he murmurs, letting you suck contentedly for a moment longer, “Such a good girl, drooling around my fingers.”

His praise makes you moan, garbled around his fingers, as your eyes roll back in your head, your head bobbing as you suck, drool pooling at the corners of your lips as you lathe your tongue over his fingers. 

All too soon, he pulls them away, making you whine at the loss. However, that quickly turns into a loud, punched out moan when he resumes teasing your nipple, your spit instantly cooling in the air, which only serves to make the bud somehow harder. He groans with you as he spreads the slick around your breast, rutting his hard length against you.

“Sweetling,” he begins, a hint of taunting laughter in his voice, “Do you remember what we did during the last hunt? Hm? Hidden away in one of my tents?” 

You whimper, nodding as the memory floods back to you – the two of you sneaking away together during the final night of a large, week long, hunt, leaving everyone else feasting and dancing at the campfires. You were both giggling like children, half-drunk on Dornish wine, when you’d stumbled into one of Aegon’s tents, lips crashing together haphazardly in the dark. It had ended with you on your knees, taking the prince into your mouth as he leaned back against a storage chest, his hands tangled in your hair as your lips and tongue skirted up and down his length. 

The memory still floods you with arousal; it hadn’t been your first time pleasuring Aegon in that way, but it had been by far the most daring. “I have not felt your mouth on me in some time, my love,” he teases, moving you back against his length, still trapped in the confines of his trousers, “And we’re so hidden up here, no one to walk in and catch us, it would be a shame not to use the chance while we have it…”

Despite the circumstances, his offer is tempting; you love bringing him pleasure, love hearing the little gasps and moans he makes escape his lips. “How would we?” you ask, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, his violet eyes full of desire, “All the way up here, I mean.”

“You trust me?” Aegon asks, placing both of his hands on your hips.

You nod instantly, not even needing to give his question a second of thought, “Of course, you know I do.” You answer truthfully. 

Smiling, he slowly moves his hands until they come to rest at your hips. “Gīda, Sunfyre.  Rȳbagon naejot nyke,” he commands the dragon before once again looking at you. “Okay, my love,” he taps one of your thighs, “Just bring this leg up and over the saddle, yeah? Like on a horse.” (Steady, Sunfyre. Listen to me.)

“Oh, definitely, just like on a horse,” you say sarcastically, an attempt to keep your nervousness at bay, which makes Aegon chuckle behind you. Slowly, you do as he says, leaning back onto him for support as you swing your leg up and over Sunfyre’s massive saddle, coming to sit side-saddle atop the beast. 

“Okay, good,” Aegon smiles, keeping his hands tight on your waist, “Now just turn…” He murmurs in concentration, patiently helping you turn your torso to face him, and sighing happily when you do. “And the other leg,” he commands, steadying you as you bring your opposite leg back over the saddle, “Perfect.” He praises you as you right yourself again, now facing him.

You give yourself a moment to breathe, getting used to facing the opposite direction. As soon as you look at the prince, though, that coil of arousal that was winding itself tight in your belly starts moving once again when you notice his eyes scanning over your chest, a sliver of your skin exposed from where your overcoat remains unbuttoned, your own underneath pulled to the side. 

His eyes meet yours, and he smirks when he notices your own arousal. All at once, the two of you crash together once again – lips colliding together as you moan into each other's mouths, hands grasping onto whatever parts of the prince you can reach; you bite his lip teasingly, making Aegon growl.

“Little minx,” he breathes against your neck as he kisses down your jaw, “Wanting to suck my cock so badly you’d risk life and limb on a dragon.” He teases, smirking when your hands shoot out to undo the ties and buttons at the top of his trousers.

Rolling your eyes, you finally manage to free his length, making him let out a relieved groan. You languidly stroke him for a moment, savoring the broken, choked off moans he breathes into your mouth, the flushed tip of his cock already leaking onto your hand. 

“Gods,” he groans lowly, his hips already fucking up into your hand, “Your mouth, my love, please!” He asks, his eyes squeezed shut.

Smirking, you kiss your way down his jaw before carefully leaning forward, pressing yourself against the firm leather saddle until your face is level with him. You give a quick kiss to the underside of the tip, right where you know a little sensitive ball of nerves lies, before you softly run your tongue over the head; you’re a goner as soon as the salty taste of him hits your tongue, losing yourself in the task as always. With a whimper, you begin bobbing your head up and down along his cock, one of your hands coming up to stroke the small bit at the base that you can’t fit in your mouth. 

One of Aegon’s hands comes up and wraps itself in your hair, pulling it back and away from your face as he grinds up into the heat of your mouth. “Fuck,” he moans, long and low as he tilts his head back, “So good, so good, fuck.” He repeats, already lost in the way you feel, in how dutifully you pleasure him – just like a good little wife should, and he knows you will be the best wife for him.

You close your eyes, head spinning with adrenaline as you continue pleasuring him, the hand at the base of his cock moving lower to cup his stones and gently roll them in your palm, just the way you know he adores. The effect is instantaneous, a punched-out groan wrenching itself from his throat as his abdomen contracts, making him jerk in your hold. You chuckle around him, drool slipping out of the corners of your mouth as you smile around his length, pleased to have reduced him to such a state already. 

The noises he’s making, along with the feel of him in your mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue, make you clench around nothing, whining onto his length, which catches his attention. You hear him chuckle above you, laughter turning to a pleasured hiss when you suck him deeper into your mouth, “Is having my cock in your mouth getting to you, sweetling?” He questions in the same cocky tone you’ve come to know so well, “Making your little bud ache?”

You nod around him as best you can, moaning around him when the hand in your hair clutches the strands tightly, leading you in the exact rhythm he wants as he ruts in and out of your mouth. He lets out a pleased hum, “I’ll take care of you, my love,” he promises, pressing you lower on his length, his eyes rolling back when he feels you spit and gag around him, “Fuck, just as soon as I finish down this pretty throat.”

At that, you redouble your efforts, moaning around his cock as you suck him down eagerly. He starts grumbling in Valyrian under his breath, a sure sign that he’s close, as if the way he was fisting your hair and panting into the cool air wasn’t enough of an indication. Right when he lets out a deep moan of your name, almost sounding in pain, you move the fist around his base faster and press your tongue to the sensitive underside of his head as you suckle on it, one of your hands tugging at his stones in just the right manner. 

“Fuck!” He spits out, his body tensing up as he presses you further down onto his cock, a deep, resonating growl leaving him at the same second that his hot seed spurts directly down your throat as his length pulses and twitches in your grasp. You moan at the familiar taste of him, your eyes slipping shut as you allow him to use your throat, swallowing down the last few drops of his seed while he whispers your name again and again in reverence. 

Finally, his hips stop twitching and the hand in your hair falls limp, allowing you to pull away from him. You sit up, moaning in surprise when he immediately tangles his hands in your hair again and pulls your face to his, uncaring that you’d swallowed down his spend mere seconds before as he bites your lip and tangles your tongue with his. 

You press yourself against him, sighing when you feel the warmth of his chest against yours, his body somehow hot despite the temperature, as if lit from within like Sunfyre. “Such a good wife,” he sighs against your lips, “How have I come to deserve you?”

“We are not yet married!” you laugh, shaking your head as you marvel at him, taking in the way his cheeks are still lightly flushed.

“A moon's time is close enough,” he shrugs, violet eyes gazing at you with adoration, though growing darker when he catches the sliver of your chest still exposed where your coat is open, “Turn back around.” He whispers suddenly, his voice husky. 

You don’t bother questioning him, simply nodding, although his hands are already back on your waist, helping you turn back around on the dragon’s saddle.

“Need to touch you,” he explains anyway, contently humming, low in his chest, when you’re pressed against him once more, “Need to make you feel good – you deserve to feel good.” He babbles, mostly talking to himself as he skirts his hands over your body. “Lenton sir, Sunfyre. Soves!” He commands, grabbing at the reins with his still-gloved hand, coaxing the large beast into a slow, smooth turn, although he still held you tightly to him until the dragon was once again gliding – his huge, rosy wings slicing through the air with practiced ease. (Home now, Sunfyre. Go!)

“Where –”

“Home,” Aegon huffs, fingers desperately tugging open the remaining buttons on your coat, frantically pushing the fabric out of the way as soon as the last one is pulled undone, eager to get his hands on your soft skin.

“But –” You start, only to be cut off as he groans impatiently, practically ripping the skirts of your dress in an effort to push them to the side, exposing your smallclothes.

“We’ll have time, sweetling,” he breathes, pushing a hand into the thin fabric, groaning when he feels how wet your slick folds are, so warm against his skin, “It’s not like it takes me long to bring you pleasure.” You can hear the boastful pride dripping from his low voice as he speaks against the side of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine as your back arches against him.

“Oh!” You gasp as you feel his fingers finally touching you, immediately zeroing in on your aching, swollen bud with a practiced ease, sending electricity zipping up your spine. 

“Ooh, someone’s sensitive,” he teases, rubbing tight, wet circles against you as his gloved hand finds its way into your coat again, yanking down the fabric of your dress before he cups your breast, kneading the delicate skin in time with the ministrations to your cunt, “Do you enjoy my fingers, sweetling?”

 You nod, already panting heavily in his grasp, your body going from rigid to pliant as you moan unabashedly in the air, not needing to be mindful of your volume all the way up here – Sunfyre as your only witness seems wholly uninterested. He chuckles against your neck as he bites at the sensitive skin, the small pinpricks of pain only adding to the pleasure radiating from your core. 

You buck up against him as you feel two of his fingers venture lower, prodding at the opening of your slick heat, gathering some of the wetness there before roughly pushing them into you. You grunt out a curse as you feel them enter you completely, Aegon not bothering to tease them into you as he usually does and instead pressing incessantly against that rough spot within you that makes you see stars. 

“Aegon, my love,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand, his thumb catching against your bud as his fingers continue tormenting your center, scissoring and curling within you, “I’m–” You cut yourself off, unable to finish a thought with the way he’s handling you.

“I know you’re close,” he grunts, his hands moving frantically against you as you shake against his chest, one hand plucking and pinching at your nipple as the other fucks into your squelching wet heat, “I can feel this lovely cunt squeezing me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You cry in time with the thrusts of his hand, your head tilting back onto his shoulder as you feel your high creeping ever closer, the fire in your belly growing to a blazing, roaring inferno. 

He laughs lowly as he mouths at the spot just below your ear, never tiring of being able to reduce you to such a base state, moaning and writhing in his arms. “Go on, sweetling,” he coaxes you, fingers rubbing up against that rough patch within you ceaselessly as his thumb circles your bud in the same rhythm, “Let yourself have it – you’re so close, let yourself feel good, my good girl, my love.” He begs between love bites, panting against your neck as you fuck yourself against his fingers. 

“Aegon!” You cry, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body tenses with a sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into you. Your walls grip desperately at his fingers, coating his hand in your sweet juices as stars explode behind your eyelids, a vicious, loud moan punching out of your chest at the intensity of your high. 

Eventually, the waves begin to subside, leaving you whimpering pathetically against him as he continues gently pleasuring you, helping you ride out your peak for as long as your body will allow. After a moment though, his fingers finally come to a stop when he hears your small whimpers and whines, indicating that his touches are bordering on overstimulating you. 

He coos lovingly, soothing you with soft touches and kisses against your cheek as he licks your spend from the hand that had been fucking you, savoring your taste with drawn out, dirty moans, taking pleasure in the way it made you blush and squirm like you were still the innocent maiden everyone believes you to be. 

“Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” Aegon murmurs after a moment, violet eyes studying you as he peeks from over your shoulder, “Nyke daor umbagon naejot dīnagon ao.” (My beautiful wife, I cannot wait to marry you.)

You don’t know what the words mean but they sound so beautiful coming from his pouty lips that you cannot help the blush that blooms on your cheeks, the sight making him chuckle. 

“Look,” he says, pointing into the distance, “You’ll love this.” 

Following the tip of his finger, you narrow your eyes, not seeing anything for a second. Just as you’re about to inquire as to what exactly you’re supposed to be looking at, you gasp, watching with wide eyes as the tallest tower of the Red Keep emerges from behind a cloud. 

“Seven,” you whisper, watching as the rest of the large fortress is slowly revealed, followed by the large domes of the Dragonpit and the Sept of Baelor, “Oh, Aegon…it’s beautiful.” You whisper, eyes sweeping over the entirety of King’s Landing, from the waves of the shores of Blackwater Bay all the way to small houses of farmers that lie beyond the city walls, all bathed in the golden, pinky lighting of the setting sun. 

“Gevie,” he breathes, gaze entirely fixed on you, on the way you hands grasp his, “Gevie ābrazȳrys.” (Beautiful, beautiful wife)

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @avalyaaa @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall @toms-cherry-trees @aemshaircare @cuddlejeongin @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon targaryen smut #aegon smut #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #aegon fanfic #smut #fanfic #my writing

[smutoperator]

Get It Like Boom Boom Boom

Kim Chaewon x Male Reader

Tags: anal, creampie, dirty talk, dominant woman, facefucking, grinding, multiple orgasms, ruined orgasm.

Word count: 2839.

Chaewon is a girl with not many moments for herself. Between her hectic schedules and her tough job as a leader of one of the most famous new kpop groups, pleasure is hard to come by. However, she always manages to get some deserved escapes from such a strenuous schedule. Tonight she wants it to be one of those nights where she leaves all the stress behind her and just gets to enjoy herself.

"I'm in need of a thrill I haven't experienced in a long time", she told herself. Searching her phone she finds your contact. You hadn't met Chaewon since the moment Iz*one became a page in kpop's history. Since then, she had switched agencies, debuted under a new group and rose to new levels of fame. She was busy and never called you, That is, until this day.

You got surprised when you got her message. "I want to come to your apartment, have some fun you know". You thought she would have just forgotten about an old fling she hadn't seen in years, but it wasn't the case. As you learned, Chaewon always remembers everything.

You had a tough day at work, tired and trying not to sleep, you waited for Chaewon. The night passed by: 7 PM, 8 PM, 9 PM, almost 10, and she hadn't showed up. Maybe she was just pulling a prank on you, but then she finally arrived, wearing a sultry black dress that caught you by surprise. You were still wearing your work attire as you were so tired you couldn't even take it off. "How are you doing?", she asked. "Better than ever", you lied to her. "That's nice to hear", she replied.

Chaewon quickly made up for the wasted time as she unbuttoned your shirt and sit on your lap. "Let's make it even better", she said, gripping her nails against your torso as she slid her hands down your body. It wasn't long until she unbuttoned your pants, revealing your massive member down there. Chaewon grabbed your cock with both hands and started smiling, eager to take on your full length. She took one lick from the bottom to the top and released a little cute moan, before taking it in her mouth. You quickly got aroused, despite looking extremely sleepy.

Chaewon took that cock down her throat, reminding you of how good her blowjob abilities were from the get go. You could only admire as she took it balls deep until gagging, then picked up the pace as she jerked you off. The way she slurped all over it quickly sent shivers down your spine, as she took it again deep in her throat. Chaewon got bragged about her skills, telling you "I should have made you wait even more for that, so easy". She was both being a cocky sucker and a cocksucker to you.

"Fuck my face", she told you, as you thrust upwards into her pussy-esque throat. Dok dok dok dok the sound of that pole hitting her deep in the hole. Chaewon took a deep breath and released your cock, screaming "HOLY FUCK YEAH!", sucking it even harder and not caring if you were to cum right there. However, just as she sensed you were getting close, she said "See you tomorrow" and abruptly left the room. You were confused, maybe she just wanted a little fun, what if she was lying to you? But you just had to resign yourself to sleep.

Just as you sensed your clothed penis being touched by a piece of fabric, you heard a familiar voice. "Wake up", it was Chaewon, sitting herself on your morning wood. It was definitely worth the wait as your cock looked much fuller than yesterday, and you had recovered your energies.

"I wanna see if that's good enough to destroy my ass", Chaewon told you. What a difference from that girl you met years ago that asked you to be gentle because your cock was the first she took up her ass. Now it's like breakfast for her, just a regular part of her sex diet. "You looked rusty last night, maybe you were just beginner level", she mocked you. "No I'm fine", you told her. "I'm not so sure you're strong enough to take on me again", she trashed talked you while grinding her clothed pussy against your hard dick, taking off her bra and moaning softly.

Chaewon turned back and asked again if you were strong enough. You replied positively to her. "Then show me", she shot back, grabbing your cock and restarting to suck it off just like the day before, this time giving you a panoramic view of her ass in lingerie. "Look at this big fucking cock, it's gonna look so good in my ass", she said, before deepthroating you.

"Fuck it deep into my throat", she ordered you as you pounded even harder and deeper inside it. Chaewon had a throat of steel it seemed, as she could take all those poundings while barely gagging. "MORE", she screamed as she coughed on your veiny prick. "Punch it in there, daddy". Gagging, sucking, spitting, jerking, Chaewon did them all with your cock. "You love it on my whore mouth don't you?", she kept provoking. "Look how I am such a nasty fucking slut with this dick daddy", she said, turning you on to fuck her face even harder.

"I want every inch of it in my asshole, hit it just you hit the back of my fucking whore mouth", Chaewon teased you. "God I want this fucking cock inside me so bad, shove it deep in my ass daddy", she kept saying, giving you tender kisses. You put her back facing the sky, taking her panties off and preparing her for the pounding. Chaewon got on all fours and tilted her ass to the sky and shoved it in your face, twerking it as you were eating her bunghole. "I know what you fucking want", she said.

As you tongued her anus first with deep movements then going rapidly up and down, Chaewon told you to keep going, "Shove that tongue in my asshole", she said. Chaewon now lost all her composure, looking like a mess in distress. "Oh yes daddy", she uttered alongside many loud moans as you kept showing your tongue and even sniffing your nose up her butthole. You spat in her shitter, a move that drew lots of approval from this little whore. "Spit in there, daddy, get it warmed up for that big cock". Many could only wish to taste her forbidden fruit, but you were the lucky one taking it fully.

And indeed, a few spits was all you needed. Her hole was very tight but once you managed to get your tip in, it engulfed your cock like a black hole engulfs light. "Bury that hard dick inside me", Chaewon ordered, and was quickly served. "Now we are talking, make that asshole yours daddy", Chaewon said alternating between moans and screams that only got louder. "Give it to me", she said.

As you stretched her shithole, Chaewon behaved more and more like a whore. "That dick is so big inside me, so good, so deep". The harder Chaewon told you to fuck her ass, the deeper you went, slapping her balls against her cunt and make her feel even more sensations quivering into her body. You spanked her asscheeks, your balls clapping against them as you went faster and harder inside her anus

"FUUUCK, YESSS, stuff me like that", Chaewon uttered. "Fuck me like a whore, slap those balls like boom boom boom", she said, asking for more just as you pulled out, she still on all fours. But not for long. "Please give me more", she asked. And sure you did, mounting on top of her like a bull, while she fingered herself to get even more stimulation. "I love how you shove those balls deep inside me", she told you, and then screamed the hardest moan yet.

"Stretch it wide open", she kept ordering, grabbing your cock with her hands and directing it inside her butthole. "God keep me fucking like this you're gonna make me cum", she told you. "Make me cum daddy, don't fucking stop", she said just as you hit her balls deep. Chaewon then stuffed two of her fingers in her pussy, fucking it herself and getting close to cum. "You are so deep in my ass, let me spread that asshole", Chaewon said, before releasing her juices into the bedsheets as you kept burying it inside her. "Daddy I can't get enough, my ass is so fucking full". Just a few seconds of you pulling it out already had her begging to shove it in. "Stuff me all the way up".

Boom boom boom got your balls slapping on her. "YES I'M CUMMING", she screamed, while twerking her ass against your hips to get that boom boom boom you were giving her even harder. The little mess, still recovering from her orgasm, pulled out and went straight up to taste her nasty butthole straight from your cock. You gave her no rest, fucking her skull just as she inserted her filthy mouth in your prick. "You taste so good out of my ass", she replied, followed by a succession of jerk offs and ordering you to shove it the back of her throat, her eyes rolling as her throat got smacked by your big sausage.

Chaewon spat on your cock, quickly asking "don't you love that sloppy tongue all over that cock daddy? Milking the shit out of it", she said as she started licking your balls like an insane slut. You told her to turn around and shoved it back in her asshole, well lubed by her excelled blowjob skills. Now she could only moan and scream as you kept stretching her. "That ass is all fucking yours daddy, keep stretching me like a bitch", she said.

You switched positions, taking her ass in a spooning position, where now you could see the reaction on her face every time you pumped her. As you started to finger her cunt, Chaewon quickly reacted "shove those fingers in my pussy daddy please, I love getting both my fuckholes stuffed. FUCK ME LIKE THE SLUT I AM". You kept going, now spitting on her pussy, to which Chaewon engulfed it like it was your cum filling her womb. That whore was insatiable, the more you attacked and destroyed her, the more she kept asking for it.

"Fuck me harder, fuck me like a little fucking slut, or just fuck me, I don't care", she kept telling you. "HARDER, HARDER", Chaewon was begging. She really wanted that boom boom boom sound of your balls clapping against her again, it was such a huge turn on. Once she got it, her already wet pussy started to cream even further. "BABY YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM AGAIN". You groaned as you keep shoving it, her telling lies about loving you beyond that throbbing member you were using to stretch her.

You kept pounding Chaewon, while also slapping her wet pussy and put your fingers on her needy mouth. "Keep going keep going, fuck me harder", she kept telling you, demanding you nothing but your best. "Fuck me up daddy". She was taking your stamina like no whore had ever done. "Don't stop, I'm gonna fucking cum", and she finally did, as you boom boom boom'd her ass once again. "That cock looks so good, that big thick yummy cock", she said. Chaewon set things straight, only praising you after you made her cum.

Chaewon spread her cheeks, showing you her gaped poop chute after the pounding you gave her. "Yes I love how you gape my asshole", she told you. "Look how I only spread that asshole wide open only for you daddy. I just came, and you're gonna make me fucking cum again". Chaewon kept getting sluttier and sluttier, but she wasn't done yet. "Fuck me harder baby, shove it up my guts, destroy me. I love those balls pounding against me. Fuck me like your little bitch", she kept telling you.

Chaewon took a break to suck your cock again, giving her classic sloppy blowjob. The little cocksucker shoved it balls deep, as you also dunked her head deep into your meaty pole. You kept fucking, but her throat just didn't bulge. "I want you to ride that cock", you told, trying to save your face against an insatiable Chaewon. She quickly sat on it and saw you thrust upwards against her asshole. But she didn't cave in easily, taking herself control of the ride and putting you on the verge of cumming, making you search for the worst thoughts deep inside your head just so you wouldn't give in.

"I wanna fucking milk it", Chaewon stated her intentions loud and clear, it was now a battle to not cum inside her butthole. You had enough of it and decided to take control, giving Chaewon a full nelson. But that only made her fire burn harder. "Slap those balls against me, spread that ass like I'm the biggest whore". "Keep it wide open", you answer back. "Yes use me baby, fuck that tight little asshole", Chaewon was quick and punched back. You spanked her cheeks, fingered her pussy, but nothing seemed to throw her out of her rythm. "Make my legs shake, fuck my asshole", she said.

You kept doing the work and pounding her down low but the one enjoying the ride was Chaewon, draining your energy while hers seemed endless. "Wreck that little asshole, fuck it hard, I can't get enough", Chaewon quickly pulled out and sat on your sweaty face, grinding that pussy and anus against your skin. "Yes daddy", Chaewon said as you ate both her fuckhole, quickly moving to another session of sitting on your hard cock, she wouldn't rest until you unleashed that white milk, and you knew that.

"Pound it up against me, that's your fucking asshole", Chaewon's incentives were hard to resist. "YES I'M CUMMING", Chaewon screamed as she released a fountain of squirt from her pussy, quickly recovering for another wild ride, and then speading her legs getting herself out to swallow your big dick down her throat. "I want more", she said as you spread her cheeks and gave her another full nelson. "Use my little fucking shithole, open me wide. Baby I need you to fuck me harder". Chaewon got out of breath as you pump on her harder than ever. "GET IT LIKE BOOM BOOM BOOM, GET IT LIKE BOOM BOOM BOOM", she started to sing like you were just a stage for her to perform. And what a performance she was giving.

"Come here", you told her. You had finally waived the white flag, putting her in missionary until you manage to cum inside her fudge factory. Chaewon knew it, telling how weak you were and begging you to be a real man and give her the biggest shot of semen she had ever got. She moaned as you put your finger in her pussy and kept going in and out of, according to her own words, gaped asshole.

"Pump it, pump it", she told you like a motivator. "Look at my whore eyes while you fuck me. Yes daddy, bury it in there, I'm such a fucking whore, my asshole is so fucking filled, my little pink asshole. Use that fuckhole, it's all yours". Chaewon couldn't stop talking, claiming her victory over you. "Tear me up, tear that asshole, fuck me like your dirty little whore".

You spit again in her asshole, Chaewon giving once again approval "you're spitting cause you wanna cum inside there don't you?". You finger her pussy, eliciting more moans from her "Don't stop, make me fucking cum again", she mandated. "HARDER HARDER I'M GONNA CUM", she screamed right after, her pussy sending a flow of juices right to your hips, her holes clenching and making yourself get close too.

"I wanna feel that warm hot load buried in my asshole. I wanna feel that cock exploding inside me. Give me every drop of that milky load, make me your cumslut, please, please, please", Chaewon said, and just like thar as she uttered those words, an explosion of sperm was felt hitting the depths of her shithole, your fully swollen cock giving in. Chaewon scooped it out straight into her mouth, swallowing that jizz like the slut she was. And just like that, it was over, it didn't even looked like it lasted under 40 minutes as you felt like she gave you a four hour fuck.

And if girls wanna have fun, Chaewon surely did after that.

My first smut. Maybe it was too repetitve but the point is simple: queen Chaewon getting fucked in the ass with many references from Le Sserafim's extremely milked hit mostly known as Get it Like Boom Boom Boom.

#chaewon smut #le sserafim smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #female idol smut

[lizaluvsthis]

SMG4: You used to be cool...

"HEY LIZ! howd that new epis-"

*DEEP BREATHING...*

*MOVES AWAY WIPS AND DROPS A NEW HYPERFIXATION*

*thanking @shygirl4991 for putting up some thoughts for the new episode! I really like to read those :)*

You- HAVE NO- F-CKING IDEA HOW LONG I QAS WAITING FOR THE "VILLAIN" THING. GAHHH!!!

OKAY SO-

wait sh-t wrong image...

SO THIS! RIGHT AFTER EGGMAN HAS OBSERVED SMG3 FROM THIS SHT- HE PUTS THREE ON A TEST AND THEN AFTER THOSE STUFF HE REACHED THE FINAL ONE- WHERE HE HAS TO UNALIVE HIS "ARCH NEMESIS" BUT WHAT EGGMAN DIDNT KNOW IS THAT THEY WERE BOTH "EX" RIVALS NOW.

BUT-BUT WHY???

cant we all just talk about the part when THREE WASNT CONSIDERED THE "COOL EVIL VILLAIN" to his other villain mates from what he USED to be back in the old days of his shenanigans??

Eggman doesnt see that our man three has had his thing called- " DEVELOPMENT " RIGHT AFTER THE WHOLE THING...

Three has gone far too long- three has been through so much and so many things had changed including him and his way of seeing things. He had gone too soft from the past few years and eggman sure had been catching up on his daily does.

EGGMAN. However. He considered to be three's idol back then- but now? He sees three as a 'low level of villain' because the three he knew before had so much destruction and destroying stuff.

Eggman missed the three he knew, the one who USED to be a total top Villain.

SMG3 has never realized how much things had changed and that he too did. Now bringing up this part

This part when three was shocked when Eggman told him that his final task was to "KILL" his arch nemesis. SMG3 is flabberghasted.

In his lair- room¿ he was practicing his shooting skill (pointing it at four) for the right aiming AND to finish him off.

See- I noticed something here- SMG3 couldn't bring himself up to do it for seconds... just a single detail of his hand SHAKING while holding a gun, pointing it at SMG4 (which is just a picture of him from a cardboard)

He couldnt do it- just- COULDNT. He had those memories flashing back to him, his hand holding with SMG4, how they both used to bond together, how he said they were FRIENDS and that he really meant to say that infront of his face, with four's reaction.

Notice how the music came to get intense during the flashbacks? Where we saw this event from Three drawing him and smg4 after 23th of wotfi? This is the most important part. That HE SMG3 drew them both together in his personal diary, a MOMENT of a good memory he and four created.

But oh wait- how did this come to three shooting him still? Even tho it was just a confetti? Why did he still shot SMG4 (on that picture)? I'll tell you another reason. "Christmas Wars" :) lets go back to that shall we?

"You'd consider partying with the guy that tried to kill us?"

Now THIS CANON EVENT. so happens to ruin Three's mood. THATS where he onwardly shoots four's picture with a gattling gun... a REASON. Why.

This triggered him SO much from the memories he spent with Four and what he'd thought about his ex rival.

After Three kept being indenial to eggdog that he doesn't care about SMG4 and that "he had NO character development" with him.

That was all a lie. (We already know that- but it's still important and relating to the episodes HOW MUCH of a bastard SMG4 is to SMG3, he continues to be friends with Four as he moves on.)

-the gun to four scene-

During this scene when Three barges in with Four making a new meme for his content Tomato Soup. Four never even thought about the things that could ever happen when three is there. He simply went on with the usual "friends conversations" talk.

Because four knows that they were both friends now. And that he knows 3 has gone soft. With an emotionless face, he approached to Four holding a GUN.

To where Four noticed- "oh a glock- watcha gonna do with that...?" He felt nervous and worried something with three carrying it- "Oh, something that I should of done long ago..." With Three holding up a gun and pointing it at Four, SMG4 screamed "THREE WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?"

The detail... his eyes? From a pinch of second his eyes when he LOOKED infront of Four's? He felt sorry to himself. He had been pointing this gun at SMG4 and the pain he's baring from his chest lived on with mixtures of feelings he had developing with Four next to him.

He was unsure. He couldnt decide- because HIM as SMG3 he wanted to be the most evil villain known of everyone and other of his villain buddies. Including Eggman. And with another spot he also wanted to make eggman prove to him that he hasnt gone soft.

that HE- would actually do it- for himself to prove that he is better...

But he cant- couldnt he?

Lets point this straight- we all get it- three has a soft spot- and that is SMG4 too- he could NEVER do that to him. He promised, he swore, he declared it, he announced it in official.

"Remember what I said? W-we- We're Friends!"

He will never EVER. take this part of him. He will never REMOVE THIS BECAUSE HE BUILT THIS DEVELOPING FRIENDSHIP WITH SMG4

he could never.

SOOO he ends up shooting the tomato with four gettin all worried n stuff- making that "blood splatter" from the window to where eggman mistaken that he actually "did" kill SMG4

SMG3 backfires on Eggman with a sneak attack,

"Like usual-"

Okay three- we get it. You annoy his ass back when he annoys you first. You ruin beeg and his dating plan and may or may have shoved a dynamite in four's mouth right after "the inspection" with his coffee request.

But we've never actually seen any other stuff beyond that reach right after wotfi 23... so three... tell me... how USUAL were you trying to put when you've BARELY DONE ANYTHING EVIL THAT RELATES FROM "KILLING" OUR GUY?

Maybe it was all... pure torture of asmr or just ruining four's day... (thats atleast what he'd meant when he said "killing you" with no tensions of doing so in literal)

When SMG4 looked at three who emotionally cried when he said this line- he still continued to cry (even after when Three smacked his face annoyed with him being a baby)

He still cried at his new meme continuosly. He didnt gave himself a second to think. "If he actually wanted to kill me, then why didnt he just do it already?" "What is stopping him from killing me?"

But no. HE JUST STRAIGHTS UP BEIN ALL OBLIVIOUS AND JUST FOCUSES IN ONE POINT AND CRIES DIRECTLY AT HIS TOMATO SOUP'S DEATH.

NOOO when i THOUGHT. ABOUT THE "allow me to demonstrate" GAVE ME THE REFERENCE FROM ANDRIAS'S WORDS FROM AMPHIBIA "TRUE COLORS" Scene... (if- you guys watched amphibia)

This part when Andrias said "allow me to demonstrate" thats the part he made the whole line about "thats how a thing about friends is it? The more you love em the more it hurts to let them go..." THEN THE LINE CONTINUES WITH HIM DROPPING DOWN THE PROTAGONIST'S FRIEND OFF A HEIGHT-

and seeing this part when- eggman said that? I am... SH-TTING with myself.

With three expecting to take the hit, but instead he pointed the missle at Four, Three would be expecting that now. But with eggman knowing that he and Four had a bond for a few years and on? HE POINTS IT TO FOUR ON PURPOSE. TO SEE HOW THREE WOULD BE ACTING.

Some of you might say "yeah we get it- he pointed that gun at four so whats up about it?" UM- EXCUSE ME... *COUGH* HE- WAS POINTING AT HIS DEAR FUTURE BOYFRIEND/HUSBAND-/HJ

With Three getting a bit too protective and tried defending SMG4 it was all on worth the time. As he squashed four's newly made meme, this is referenced from "mario's spicy day" where back back back BACKKKK in the episode where Four had destroyed Three's whole production area he had took time to work on.

SMG4 destroyed his children. Children of his own that were his MEMES. And putting it here when Four had his own memes as his children? IT WAS HIS- TURN TO SPIN THE TABLES AND PUNCH IT AT FOUR'S FACE.

To let him experience.

The suffering and pain he had done. Thats why... he laughed at him.

With SMG3 putting out his true speech from "I am happy with just the way I am..." he TENSIONALLY- PLACED- HIS RIGHT HAND AT SMG4'S SHOULDER. standing up at his own. All proud and happy...

Three finally learned his own lesson that he doesnt have to be forced to be like someone that he used to be and the stuff he'd usually did before. Because that was the old him, the old self of his? Is gone now. Three is continuing to bloom from his own way and had things that he ever needed or desired to have. A job of his? Is there, friends? There already, a partner by his side? Is also there! (Barely- but still is!) His twitch strreaming or taking care of his son? Is there!

He has had a new purpose of living and this is the path he chose. So he broke free from just by being himself and not getting pushed by other people by just telling him. "You used to be cool..." "wheres the old smg3 we knew?" "Why arent you the three we know that used to commit world destruction anymore?" "Wheres three?"

You cant call the old three because THIS IS THREE.

This is the baby boy we have and he still grows on and on out of his shell. Leave the man alone ya big bozos because he's having his own development, discovering his own ways between living the life of good and bad.

Three had an amazing development honsetly and I dont like how people say "we want the old three back" but you guys cant.

Anyways- these are my messages and uhhh a whole essay or... something- I'M GLAD YOU TOOK YOUR TIME ON READING THIS BECAUSE I REALLY LOVE LOOKING THROUGH THE DETAILS AND SLIGHT REFERENCES THAT'RE PUT IN HERE...

Please dont tell me these two will get foreshadowed... please dont.

AND THAT CALLS OUT FOR YOUR LIZA'S NEW FIXATION FOR THE NEW EPI-

*flat heart rate monitor*

#lizaluv #smg34 #smg4 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #lizafixates

[simp-ly-writes]

A Suit Filled Surprise

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x teacher!Reader

Summary: its been awhile since you had last seen your husband; thankfully your coworkers are there to help.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and a sprained wrist.

A/N: why do i love this man. WHY. feeling feral for graves rn.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

The kids were filling in their worksheet and continued to work on their printing as you continued to mark yesterday's grammar quiz; taking the time to place stickers and small motivational comments after each answer.

Pencils scrapped across paper in the background as the cheerful screams of other students on break coming through the floor level windows overpowered the small conversations happening between table-groups.

Checking in on the students you noticed as the curtains floated with the breeze. It was half-way to the summer break and the buzzing fan trying to combat the southern heat was struggling much like your sprained wrist. You smiled thoughtfully at the rows of desks while twirling your wedding band; thinking back to the card and chocolates they all bought you to get better soon.

Before you could make your way back to your desk to continue the mountain of papers and the ever-flowing flood of parental emails; your coworker Christina waved you over form your classroom joining door. Smiling and bringing your finger to your lips; she nodded and smiled widely herself before turning back around and explaining to her older grade that she would be back in a minute.

are you ready for parent-teacher night with your class? i could use some help with mine if you have time during your spare? Christina asked as she kept glancing towards your hall door. Yet just as you became growingly curious she held your arm and began to show you a list of planned material to prepare for over the summer. Nodding along while becoming a bit concerned over her obvious anxious figure.

You held her hand and opened your mouth; about to ask if you should look over her room so she could revive a much needed break early. Yet it would be the silence of your own classroom that overtook your concern for Christina; followed by a series of unanimous giggles that held your heel; about pivot to ask the class what was so funny.

You then felt Christina squeeze your hand before she asked your class to join hers; making sure she still held your full attention. Her eyes began to crinkle joyfully in a knowing look that had your anxiety reeling across your skin- turning pink.

As all the children joined the older class in the next room; Christina addressed the class while gripping on to your form, okay class! storytime together please- practicing their collaborative skill for their final report card. Looking at you once more than at the door; smiling widely she dropped your hand and walked back her room; closing the door behind herself.

Turning back to look at the now empty rows of desks; the children still played in the background as you made your way back to your desk. Shifting through the papers and submitting them on your records sheet you pen flew across the page. Marking a large red streak as you heard a throat clear.

Turning towards the door to glare at whomever decided, eyes going wide in seeing your husband, in a suit, leaned against the doorframe with flowers in his hand as you began to have flashbacks to prom all those years ago.

C'mon sweetheart is that anyway to greet your husband? Graves teased as you watched him stand upright and start to saunter up to your desk. Blinking in reaction; your body thought him to be an illusion; starting to shake; eyes becoming wet.

Baby, baby. He began to console you, kneeling beside your chair and taking your hands in his own as he began to rub small circles on the back side of your palms. You felt the cold matching ring against your skin as a smile began to form widely across your face matching his own.

Closing your eyes as you felt him cup your cheek and kiss the other; moving to your forehead next and then all the way down to your lips. Giggling at his scruff tickling your nose. You lightly grabbed the outlines of his suit jacket and pushed him away gently.

Large puppy dog eyes were all you had received in return. I missed you.

How about you show me how much? home is calling... he trailed off while glancing back at the door than back at you. He pulled your frame up lightly and then pulled you back into his lap. Starting to brush his nose against your neck, sighing softly; awaiting your response.

As you breathing and shakes still, you accidentally shift in his lap earning yourself groan, how could I ever say no to this suit?

I was debating between this and my field outfit; yet I figured I would become less of a scare with this... Laughing at your husbands commentary over a simple outfit, you felt yourself being lifted with a squeal escaping your lips and being carried out the door towards a black car. While exiting the building you saw Christina hold two thumbs up with a wink as you buried your face into his shoulder.

Placing you in the passengers seat he took off his coat jacket and threw it in the backseat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress-shirt to his forearms before leaning over and giving you a kiss. Igniting the engine, he placed a warm hand across your thigh.

Tracing the veins up his hands and arm; you saw his body shiver in response before moving his hand away and giving you a playful glare before moving his eyes back to the road. Let's just say that the drive home was a bit longer than usual...

#graves x teacher!reader #cod x reader #cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x you #cod x y/n #cod x gn!reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #graves x you #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x you #philip graves #philip graves x you #fanfiction #fanfic #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #cod fanfic #cod mw #cod #cod graves #commander graves #shadow company

[wordsbyrian]

Not So Secret Girlfriend - Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: Another Polyglot fic. In which everyone is suddenly very concerned with R's love life.

A/N: This was requested by someone months ago (I forgot to write down who it was because it wasn't an anon) and I finally got around to writing it. The ending isn't exactly what I wanted but alas.

The international break is something that you have conflicted feelings about.

On one hand, you get to see and play alongside your national teammates and represent your country at the highest level.

And on the other hand, you have to make two 9+ hour flights in two weeks and jet lag can be a real bitch.

At the beginning of your time with the national team, it was especially bad because not only were you jet lagged but you were also really nervous which affected the amount of sleep you were getting.

Now, more than three years since your first camp, you’ve got your place pretty locked in (even if you don’t start every game)  and some of your friends from the youth teams are here too.

You had previously thought it would be fun. Yet, you find yourself rethinking that considering you’re currently being harassed by Ashley Sanchez and Sophia Smith before you’ve even finished your coffee.

The source of the teasing is your phone which has chimed with a new text every 45 seconds since you’ve placed it on the table.

“Sophia, can you believe that Y/N/N just abandoned us to go play in Spain and now she’s too cool to even talk to us at breakfast,” Ashley asks in a tone that you are more than familiar with, it’s overly dramatic and you smile a little hearing it.

 “It’s crazy,” Sophia agrees. “Our little nerd is all grown up. Seems like just yesterday we were in France trying to get her to show off her language skills for the locals.”

“They grow up so fast,” Jaelin pretends to weep as she joins the three of you at the table.

Sighing deeply, you shake your head at them and reach for your phone only to end up glaring at Ashley when she snatches it away.

“Sanchez,” you say warningly, “It’s too early for this.”

“It’s too early for your phone to be blowing up like you’re the plug,” she responds before looking over her shoulder. “Naomi,” she shouts, “hurry up, we’re going through Y/N’s phone.”

“No, we’re not,” you say.

“Yea, we are,” Sophia and Jaelin say in perfect unison.

Sighing once more, you sit back and let it happen, focusing back on your breakfast.

It’s hard though because you’re practically forced to listen to their running commentary on the contents of your phone.

“All of her texts are in Spanish.”

“Makes sense, they’re all to her Barcelona teammates.”

“Nah, she texted us and Press too, those are in English.”

“And this one is from ‘Red Heart Emoji’ aka long-term secret girlfriend, but that’s in Spanish too.”

“It can’t be a secret if you four know about her,” you say not looking up.

“And yet, we know nothing about her except that she has brown hair and for some odd reason is attracted to you,” Naomi says, “Super cute, secret contact photo though.”

“Woah,” you say, slightly offended when the others chuckle. “I’m a fucking catch.”

“I’m sure mystery girlfriend thinks that,” Sophia starts, “But we’ve known you since you were 13 so we know better.”

“I should’ve found better friends when I had a chance.”

“You’d never get rid of us Y/N/N,” Jae says, “Here’s your phone back.”

Just as you reach for it another hand reaches out and grabs it.

You follow the hand until you see the face of the person it belongs to, and you can only shake your head when you see Kelley.

“Sup Baby Genius,” she says, “What’s this I’m hearing about a secret girlfriend?”

Standing up, you roll your eyes before taking your phone back from the veteran player and walking away.

“We’re not having this conversation,” you say, “See you at practice.”

“We will eventually Y/N,” Kelley shouts after you.

“No we won’t you,” you respond, making your way out of the room.

By the time practice comes around that afternoon, your love life has become a popular topic of conversation.

And much to your chagrin, it doesn’t seem like the other women plan on letting up anytime soon, every free moment sees you peppered with questions.

Luckily, or unluckily rather, your friends are more than willing to answer any that they can.

Their answers aren’t very satisfying considering they don’t actually know that much but it does get the others off your back for a bit.

The one question you do answer yourself though is because you’re slightly offended when you hear it.

“Do Christen and Tobin know,” someone asks.

And it hurts your feelings. The idea that you wouldn’t tell something this important to the two women who have become almost like surrogate parents to you.

“Of course they do,” you respond, “And before anyone asks, Mal does too, why do you think she isn’t asking questions?”

After that, the team mostly gives up on trying to get you to tell them who your girlfriend is.

Even Kelley leaves it alone although she does still make a show of moaning and groaning whenever she sees Sanchez and Sophia, upset once again that they didn’t tell her something.

But even that is nothing more than her usual playful whining which is great because it means that you can go back to focusing on how you're supposed to play against your girlfriend and club teammates at the end of the week.

You’ve played against them once before but that was years ago and you were only on the field for maybe three minutes.

Now though, you’re more experienced and Vlatko has already all but told you to expect to play the full 90.

This is why you’re not surprised when he asks you to share what you know about the Spaniards in the final meeting on MD-1.

“Well,” you say, looking at how the coaches think your opposition will lineup, “The most important thing is that they play a pretty positionless style, so don’t be surprised if you’re not marking who the lineup says you will be, hell, don’t be surprised if Mapi pops up as the CAM. And I know you think that stopping Alexia is paramount but Patri and Aitana can dribble around or through you with just as much skill if not more.”

“Thank you, Y/L/N is there anything else you care to tell us,” Coach asks.

“Athenea is fucking annoying,” you say plainly, much to the amusement of your teammates.

Vlatko, on the other hand, just rolls his eyes and continues with the meeting.

When it’s done and you’ve been released, you do your best to leave the room quickly but without drawing any attention to yourself.

It doesn’t work though because you’re stopped by the head trainer Mary.

“How are you feeling,” she asks.

“Good.”

“Jetlag gone? Sleeping well?”

“Yup, I’m ready to go,” you tell her, bouncing on your toes.

“Alright,” she says with a smile, “I’m done bothering you, go call your girlfriend.”

That stops you in your tracks and leaves you staring at the trainer with your mouth open and eyes wide.

“How did you know that,” you manage to stutter out.

“Well, one, this team can’t speak softly to save its life, and two,” she says, “I was 21 once too. Now go on.”

Shooting the trainer, you smile and rush off.

The next day, your pre-match routine goes off without a hitch. Morning meditation, headphones, and a vow of silence, sees you in the best possible headspace for the match.

You’ve done everything you possibly could to prepare for this but still, as you stand in the tunnel across from your club teammates, you can’t help but to feel slightly off.

It doesn’t matter though because before you know it, you’re in your spot on the field and the first whistle is blown.

You don’t touch the ball much in the first 15 minutes but in the 16th a quickly played pass from Sully sees you breaking down the wing with the ball at your feet.

It’s easy enough to get going at what is nearly full speed for you, your opponents not having expected you to take off rather than completing the give-and-go with Andy.

One of the people you get past is Athenea and you can’t help but toss an ‘adios’ over your shoulder on your way.

It’s a great run if you do say so yourself, but as you go to make the final cross into the box, you find it blocked by someone you are very familiar with.

You let out a curse as you trudge to take your place for the resulting corner but you can’t help but smile slightly as you see your girlfriend smirking at you.

No goal comes from the corner and the game continues.

Your next major involvement doesn’t come until the 25th minute and it’s because Patri tries to send a long ball over the top to get Athenea in behind. You manage to get the first touch to it, bringing it down softly. You even get a pass off sending it up to Sully but less than a second later, you’re laying on the pitch clutching your foot as the result of a late challenge from Athenea

It hurts really fucking bad but what it does more than that anything is piss you off. So you just get up and shake your head at her,

You know what face you’re making and your teammates on both sides of the ball know what it means: Athenea is going to be in for a long day.

For the rest of the half, you do your best to make her life a living hell, putting a little more force into your tackles and being slightly more annoying with your trash talk. And the ref, well she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because you manage to keep it clean even if you are toeing the line.

 Vlatko definitely notices though and at halftime, you get a very stern talking to about your aggression and making slightly better choices since some of your tackles put the ball right at Spanish feet.

You only sort of listen to him.

Your battle against Athenea continues into the second half but it’s not the only thing you have to deal with.

Part of Vlatko’s halftime talk included him wanting you to get forward more, putting the team in a 3-4-3 while attacking but keeping your standard 4-3-3 when you get back on defense.

This meant that you were doing a lot more running and that you had a lot more encounters with Spain’s right back, Batlle, in your attacking half.

It’s a lot of back and forth, especially with the game remaining scoreless. And the two of you can’t help but trade a few verbal barbs as well.

She tries and fails to body block you off the ball and you make a quip about how that might work against the WSL players but not you.

You over-hit a cross and she asks which of your veteran teammates taught you that.

In the 69th minute, when both teams go to make substitutions, you mouth the words ‘game over’ to her when you see that Sophia is coming on. She just shakes her head and points back to the sideline where you see Pina and Lucia Garcia standing by the 4th official.

Those subs do mean the end of your battle against Athenea but you don’t actually care about that since you’ll have plenty of time to annoy her during the next Clasico match.

The subs do have the desired effect though because, in the 79th minute, you manage to send in a through ball that finds Sophia’s feet before it hits the back of the net.

Unfortunately, the lead doesn’t last long because, in the 84th minute, Batlle gets an assist of her own by cutting the ball back to Aitana who rockets it past Naeher.

And the game ends that way, a 1-1 draw.

Immediately after the final whistle, you find yourself shaking hands and being pulled into hugs by your Barcelona teammates. 

There are a couple of jokes cracked and Mapi repeatedly asks what you kept saying to Athenea to piss her off but you refuse to tell her. Both Pina and Patri ask for your jersey but you tell them it’s already been promised to someone else. They ask who and you don’t tell them.

20 minutes later, you’re leaning against a wall somewhere in the depths of the stadium holding said jersey in your hand and waiting for someone.

You don’t wait for long, no more than five minutes before someone launches into you like a heat-seeking missile.

“Long time no see, Onita,” you greet, looking down at your girlfriend who has already buried her face in your shoulder.

Her response is grumbled into your shoulder and since you can’t really understand it so you just chuckle softly and hold her tighter.

The two of you stand there for a while holding each other and engaging in soft conversation. Nothing important is said, it’s just the two of you enjoying a quiet moment.

It lasts a while but not nearly long enough because suddenly there are voices coming towards you from both sides of the hallway.

From the left, a loud American you instantly recognize as Sanchez is trying to convince someone to make a bet with her about what you're doing. And from the right, another group, you vaguely recognize one voice as Leila, shouting in a mixture of Catalan and Spanish. That group is too hectic for you to make out what’s being said.

“Time’s up,” she whispers to you, trying to take a step back but failing when you don’t let her go.

“It’s fine,” you tell her, “Although Leila might give you the kicked-puppy look for a couple of weeks.”

A few seconds later, both groups stand in front of you with various looks of shock on their faces.

From the US, it’s exactly who you thought it would be, Sanchez, Sophia, and Mal, who barely waits half a second before pulling out her phone and texting who you assume to be Christen and Tobin. The Spanish search party consists of Leila (obviously), Pina, and Patri, who bursts out laughing like this is the funniest thing she’s ever seen.

A moment passes…

And then an explosion of noise as they all begin to speak at once, the languages mixing and overlapping in a way that’s impossible to follow.

Taking a deep breath, you separate yourself from Ona, giving her a quick kiss and passing her your jersey. Once no longer intertwined, you take a step forward, hold a finger up to your lips, and wait for the group to quiet down before speaking.

“I will be taking no further questions. Thank you,” you say once they do, immediately turning on your heel and walking away.

There’s another explosion of noise as everyone protests that and just underneath it, you can hear Ona laugh before she calls your name which makes you stop and turn back to her.

“Y/N/N, aquí, toma esto,” she says, tossing you her Spain jersey.

Catching it, you smile at her before turning back around and continuing to walk away.

You get maybe 15 steps away before you hear what sounds like a herd of bulls coming up behind you as your teammates catch up.

“Kelley is going to be so mad that we know who your secret girlfriend is and she doesn’t,” Sophia says, falling into step with you.

“It’s going to be great,” Sanchez grins.

“Just do me a favor and wait until I’m back in Spain to tell her that you know,” you respond, “I can’t deal with that backlash in person.”

“What do I get in return?”

You take a moment to think about it before answering, “A favor in return, no questions asked.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Mal shakes her head at you, “You just made a deal with the devil.”

“Too late now.”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader

[h-sleepingirl]

Milton Erickson and a Rabbi Walk into a Bar... (Essay)

Finally, I've finished this essay about connections I'm finding between hypnosis, Judaism, magic, and intimacy. It's ~4.5k words, extremely "me," and I'm really thrilled to share it. Enjoy!

--

My weakness is getting deeply invested in very niche topics.

Hypnosis was my first and most lifelong obsession. It was my confusing, shameful sexual fetish that I eventually took by the horns and -- through my desire to learn as much about it as humanly possible -- turned into a job. But not a normal sex work job where I do hypnosis for money -- a weird job where I just teach about it. The kink community, and the further-specific niche where people want to hypnotize each other during intimate experiences, became my home.

But the value of study doesn't really come from the quantity of people I'm able to engage with. It comes from the way it enriches my life. It creates and benefits from the capability to see overlaps between all of my various interests.

On the surface, it may appear that two skills have no relationship. But the deeper you get into each one, a synthesis appears.

At a certain point when you are learning hypnosis, all seemingly-unrelated information seems to fit effortlessly into your hypnotic knowledge. You can listen to a song and suddenly you learn something new about how to hypnotize someone. Maybe it was a lyric that gave you an evocative emotional response; maybe it was a pattern in the music that you thought about replicating with the rhythm of your hypnotic language.

Over a decade into my own hypnosis learning, I got very lucky and found a second passionate home in communities of Jewish text study about a year ago. I started from almost zero there and found myself again to be a greedy novice, obsessed with digging into it.

Of course, as I got further, it became that I read a page of Talmud (a text of rabbinical law and conversation) and suddenly I learned something new about how to hypnotize someone. And as I progress, it is starting to go the other way: I learn about Torah study by reading about hypnosis and intimacy.

There are two directions this essay can be read. “How can intimacy and hypnosis teach us about Jewish text?” And, “How can Jewish text teach us about intimacy and hypnosis?” One half is of each part written by me as an authority, and the other half is by me as an avid novice. The synthesis of these two parts of me -- just like any synthesis between concepts -- may perhaps create something new.

Models

I’m sure most communities have a version of the idiom, “Ask three people a question and get five answers.” For a long time, this was a source of frustration for me in the hypnosis community. Is hypnosis a state of relaxation and suggestibility? Kind of, but also no. Is it more accurate to say it is based on unconscious behaviors and thoughts? Well -- kind of, but also no. 

So what is it? Well, it’s probably somewhere in the overlap of about 20-30 semi-accurate definitions and frameworks for techniques -- what we’d call “models.” Good luck!

Why is hypnosis so impossible to define and teach? How have we not found a model that we can all agree upon yet? I think many people share this confusion, and it's complicated by the fact that most sources for hypnosis education teach their model as the model. It makes sense -- it would be difficult to teach a complete beginner a handful of complex frameworks with which to understand hypnosis when that person is just trying to muddle through learning “how to hypnotize someone” on a practical, basic level.

…Or would it be? By the time I got involved with Jewish study, I had long given up on chasing the white whale of some unified theory of hypnosis. I was firmly happy with the concept that all ways to describe hypnosis are simply models -- and all models are flawed, while some models are useful. I was delighted, when entering Jewish community spaces, to hear the idiom, “Three Jews, five opinions.”

This concept is baked into Jewish text study, in my experience. You can look at any single line in Torah and find innumerable pieces of commentary on it, ancient and modern, with conflicting interpretations. Torah and other texts are studied over and over -- often on a schedule -- with the idea that there is always something new to learn. And this happens partially by the synthesis of multiple people's perspectives adding to and challenging each other, developing new models. My Torah study group teacher always starts us with a famous line from Pirkei Avot, a text of ethical teachings from early rabbis: “If two sit together and share words of Torah, the Shekhinah [feminine presence of God] abides among them.”

The capacity to develop and hold multiple interpretations at once enriches your relationship with the text. So too do I believe that being able to hold multiple interpretations of what hypnosis is and how it works enhances your skill with it. It is not a failure of the system -- it is the best thing about it.

Intimacy

It is intentional to make the distinction of “relationship with the text” -- not “relationship to the text.”

My job on the surface is to teach hypnosis, but the meta goal is to simply teach something that helps people develop profound intimacy with others. I think that hypnosis is a kind of beautiful magic that is well-suited to this, but it’s not the only path to take.

One of my favorite educators, Georg Barkas, describes themselves as an intimacy educator who teaches rope bondage. Their classes and writings are highly philosophical and align closely with my own ideas about intimacy -- as well as my partner’s, MrDream, from whom I’ve learned so much. I frequently cite Barkas when I talk about hypnosis because I feel the underlying ideas they have about rope bondage are extremely applicable to all kink and intimacy -- and I will continue that trend here.

Barkas recently published an excellent essay looking in detail at the concept of intimacy itself. They posit that our first thought of intimacy is usually about a kind of comfort-seeking and familiarity. That’s contained within the etymology of the word, and socially it’s what many of us think of when we define our relationships as “intimate”: settling in to engage with a partner who we love, know, and understand.

But, Barkas asks, what if we place this word into a different context? They talk of how in scientific endeavors, the goal of “becoming familiar with” is unpredictability and discovering things that are surprising and unexpected. This perhaps offers a different view of intimacy: intimacy where you do not engage with your partner as though you know everything about them; intimacy where being surprised by them and learning something new is the goal.

My partner MrDream teaches about this often in hypnosis education: approaching a partner with genuine curiosity and interest -- “curiosity” implying that you don’t know what to expect, with a positive connotation. There is a kind of delicate balance between being able to anticipate some aspects of what is going to happen hypnotically -- to have a general grasp on psychology and hypnosis theory -- versus holding tight to a philosophy that neither you nor the hypnotic subject really knows how they are going to respond. The unexpected is not to be feared, but celebrated and held as core to our practice. Hypnotic “subjects” (those being hypnotized) who can relax their expectations will often have more intense experiences.

Thus we come to the first time in this essay where I mention Milton Erickson, my favorite forefather of modern hypnosis. Erickson was a hypnotherapist active through the 1900s and is famous (among many things) for presenting a model of hypnosis that wasn’t necessarily an authoritative action done to a person, but a collaborative and guiding action done with a person.

In his book “Hypnotic Realities,” he talks about how his view of clinical hypnosis is defined by how the therapist is able to observe each individual client and directly use those observations to continually develop a unique hypnotic approach with them. The client’s history, interests, and modes of thinking are utilized for the trance, as well as any observable responses they have in the moment. For example, a client with chronic pain may have the frustration they express over that pain incorporated into the trance. This is in deep contrast to hypnosis where the therapist comes in with any kind of “script” or formula to recite ahead of time.

It’s important to Erickson’s model that the therapist doesn’t know exactly what to anticipate, and it’s also important hypnotically that the same is true for the client. A common “Ericksonian” suggestion is, “You don’t have to know what is going to happen, and I don’t know either.” In order to develop the most effective approach with each patient, Erickson would enter into a session with some presumed knowledge, but ultimately learning -- not assuming -- how to best hypnotize each individual person.

We circle back to the phrase, “a relationship with Jewish text.” In my opinion, engaging with Torah is exactly this kind of intimacy. Torah is something we come into in order to poke and prod at it, to interact with it and to see how it interacts back at us. The teacher of my study group always cites a model where Torah itself is a participant in our partnered learning and group discussions. We ask it questions, we push its boundaries, we strive to glean something new and yet unseen. A line that may seem simple on the surface can reveal much more when we explore its context or put it into a different context entirely. 

This is easier for me to say as someone who is coming into learning Torah for the first time, but I am able to look ahead to when I will be fully familiar with the text and still be able to take this expanded definition of intimacy with it. Not coming to it without a sense of comfort, but still engaging with curiosity. MrDream teaches a model for hypnosis that is based on the idea of exploration -- exploring your partner no matter how long you have been with them. You are always coming to them as a different person, shaped by your ever-growing experiences and identity, and your partner changes as a human as well. I believe Torah is also dynamic in this way, as the context within which it exists -- and the way we interpret it -- is constantly shifting.

Ritual

I have been engaging with spiritual ritual on and off for as long as I’ve been learning hypnosis. The concept of magic has always been alluring to me -- not from a motivation to meet specific goals, but for something more difficult to pin down. I like that ritual, in an esoteric framework, is about looking at various metaphors between ingredients and actions; a candle representing an element of fire which may in turn represent intensity, or purity, or something else. Drawing meaningful connections between concepts like this is a skill I’ve developed in parallel with hypnosis, as well.

I was recently talking with a friend of mine who is also interested in esotericism -- we were sharing our frustrations with various books on magic and ritual. We wondered why so many sources would go on to teach prescriptivist formulas and associations, and not much else. Do this, and that will happen. This symbol represents that. My friend and I agreed that the ritual value of ingredients comes from how you personally assign meaning to them -- but why was everything always trying to teach us their meaning, as opposed to teaching us how to cultivate our own associations?

A week or so later, I happened to go to an excellent class that explored whether or not there was a place for smudging and smoke use in modern Jewish ritual. The teacher first took a careful, measured approach towards looking at indigenous smudging practices and the concept of appropriation. What followed was 30 minutes of history and text exploring examples of smoke in early Judaism, and then 30 minutes of a handful of interpretations of what “smoke” could mean and represent with relation to Jewish ideas -- directly practical to modern ritual. It was utterly excellent and immediately profound for me, as someone who has been yearning to blend my experience with esoteric ritual with my relationship with Judaism.

Observant readers will note that through this essay I speak passively about Judaism -- I am a patrilineal Jew, which for better or worse means that it is not a simple matter to say, “I am ‘fully’ (or ‘not’) Jewish.” (I am in the beginnings of working with a Conservative rabbi -- who affirms that I’m Jewish -- to make my status halachic [lawful], which is deeply exciting.) Opinions on that aside, a relevant piece of information is that the Jewish holiday we celebrated most consistently when I was growing up was Chanukah. While a lot of Jewish practice has been something I’ve been striving towards as an adult, Chanukah has always been “mine.” It was fast approaching after this class, and I felt motivated to use my newfound knowledge to make more ritual out of lighting the candles.

I was deeply surprised when all I did was light a stick of incense before saying the blessings over lighting the menorah, and my experience transformed into something intense. I smelled the incense and couldn’t help but think about what I’d learned about the Rambam’s commentary that incense in the time of the Temple was about making the Temple smell sweet to pray in after the burning of sacrifices. I thought about what I’d learned about the presence of God being smoke and clouds to the ancient Israelites. I thought about things I’d learned from other places -- hiddur mitzvah (the value of beautifying a practice), and a midrash (parable) about God loving the light and rituals we do in a very personal way simply because they are from us.

Esoteric ritual has often felt to me like exerting effort in making the associations of ingredients work for me. But this was effortless. I was doing something that was entirely my own, solidly founded by the broad and deep study I’d done, by my personal relationship with the concepts, by my identity.

In other words, the power behind this ritual came from knowledge, and the knowledge came from my intimacy with it. And that intimacy was not just with the study I had done -- it was also the process of being surprised in real time by what I was learning through the ritual itself.

Hypnosis gains “power,” in so much as we let ourselves use the term, through these same acts of intimacy towards knowledge. It operates directly based on various ingredients: how much we know about hypnosis theory itself, general psychology, the person we are working with, and ourselves. Hypnosis is a ritual -- it is setting aside special time to do something with a collection of ingredients that you have personal associated meanings with. If you can’t connect to those deeply enough, it won’t reach its full potency.

Knowledge, Perception, and Unconsciousness

One of my favorite concepts to teach in hypnosis is, “A change in perception equates to a change in reality.” This is derived from Erickson by MrDream, and it’s something he and I have had a lot of conversations about to refine. The implication of this is not something as trite as hypnosis having the power to change a person’s perceived reality. It is the concept that if you look at something from a different perspective, you gain various different capabilities.

For example, when you are feeling stuck in a situation and you think about what a close friend of yours would do if they were in your shoes, you gain the capability to see more options, to change your actual view of the reality of the problem and therefore change your actions towards it. In hypnosis, this could be the difference between simply telling someone to relax their legs versus another perspective of telling them to imagine what it would be like if their legs just started relaxing. It could be the idea that when a person does feel relaxation from a simple suggestion, their perception changes on what is happening -- they build more belief in hypnosis, and that belief in turn makes the next suggestions easier to buy into.

Erickson’s model of hypnosis is predicated on the idea that hypnosis itself matters, that hypnosis is a time within which someone’s reality changes. In his ideal hypnotic context, the subject feels like they no longer can expect things to behave as they usually do in their “waking” reality. They are thus opened to many different kinds of new experiences and capabilities. To Erickson, perception matters -- by itself, it’s a primary driving force behind literal change and response.

This ties back to our idea of intimacy -- just as I aim to approach my partners with this profound curiosity, just as I aim to approach Torah, I want to have this intimacy of the unexpected with trance itself. I want to allow myself to be surprised by hypnosis, by the things I don’t yet know about it even after more than a decade and thousands of hours of trance. But more than this, in an Ericksonian sense, simply changing my perspective to this motivation is one of the things that lets me get there.

I went through a guided study class about Shabbat (Judaism’s weekly sabbath of rest) with a partner, and so much of the class was in the abstract that it at times felt difficult for me to latch onto. We were learning all of this background context about a view of Shabbat where instead of spiritually striving and reaching on that day, you come in acting as though your spiritual work -- like your other work -- is “finished.”

In one session, we spent a chunk of time parsing through how we could interpret that as actionable. It felt like it just wasn’t clicking for me -- the midrashic texts weren’t offering enough for me to feel like I could make judgments on questions like, “Does this imply I shouldn’t meditate on Shabbat in this context?”

It wasn’t until I slept on it that I found a very simple piece of the puzzle: putting aside the questions of concrete actions, in an Ericksonian sense, the internal act of shifting my perspective would absolutely change the way I behaved and interacted with the day. It would become more indirect and unconscious -- instead of carefully analyzing my actions as I might with other Shabbat prohibitions on work, I could simply let myself act in ways that fit that perspective of “spiritually resting.”

The abstraction of the class made more sense -- perhaps it wasn’t trying to give us direct answers, but rather create a psychological environment for us that was well-suited to this more unconscious processing. Or rather, in addition to the sort of typical conscious halachic interpretation. If I allow myself an opinion here, I’d say that I care about halacha as actionable, but as always, I tend to care more about feelings and what’s internal.

This also lent credence to ways this class and the class on smoke and ritual changed my experiences. I was not given a set of actions to take, but rather a variety of perspectives that unconsciously made me think and behave differently. The concept of “knowledge is power” is both true and alluring in many different contexts, and yet had often fallen through for me in most ritualistic frameworks. The way that it succeeds, I believe, is when you develop a relationship with knowledge that actually changes your internal perspective and perceptions.

Limitation

With this we return to the concept of models and interpretations. It is serendipitous to be going through these experiences at a time where I am avidly working on my next book -- the thesis of which is that in order for us to progress as hypnotists, we must get comfortable moving fluidly between many differing definitions and frameworks (models) of what hypnosis is and how it works.

It is as the Ericksonian principle would say: If you take a perspective on hypnosis that boils down to “hypnosis is about relaxing the conscious mind,” you will do hypnosis according to that perspective. You will use relaxation-based techniques and make an effort to get someone to think “less consciously.” If you instead take a perspective that is “hypnosis operates based on activation of the conscious mind,” you may do hypnosis that causes someone to think and process in a more stimulating way.

Both and neither are true, and they can coexist. I believe that most models can be useful -- some more useful than others. But the best thing you can do is to not assume that one model is the most correct one -- instead, it is to develop the capacity to work within many at once even while being aware of their boundaries.

Jewish text, in my experience, provides models -- perspectives that themselves give guidance on how to understand things and act. I think especially about midrash and stories that are explicitly intended to fill in the gaps or give an alternate view on something. The question of, “Is there one correct way to do/see things” is more complicated here, but there are areas -- especially in those subtle shifts of mindset for ritual or interpreting text -- where the answer is still “no.”

My time so far in Jewish study supports this in a different way. There is a human element of collaboration and challenge. Learning as we do with a chevruta (study partner) adds another person to the relationship -- it is no longer just between you and the text. There is another human who you are building something with, and it is “intimate” according to our exploratory definition in an even clearer way.

The purpose of a “scene” inside of kink (a “session” of kink play) is to operate in a semi-limited framework -- limitations exist on who is involved, where it begins and ends, how partners communicate, and what themes/topics/activities are involved. These limitations -- though they may be quite broad -- are partially what allow for intense experiences. A scene needs to exist in a different “space” than our daily lives, and it needs to operate by different rules and involve different ingredients. Here, we also see overlaps with the definition of a “ritual.”

This doesn’t just facilitate intensity (and safety) -- it facilitates learning something new about your partner. By taking your relationship and putting it into a limited context, it allows you to observe it in a more careful way, where novel changes can be more obvious.

Studying with a chevruta is much like this. I have had study sessions where my chevruta and I are meeting for the first time and the only thing we are aware of sharing is our desire to dive into a piece of text. I’ve also had chevrutas where we know each other outside of study, and some of our time is schmoozing and catching up. But in all cases, we are limited in scope, and that limitation creates ease of access towards the common goal of expanding our knowledge and relationship with the text. We are focused; we are motivated. We are creating something that we can only create through who we are as individuals and what we are doing as avid learners.

This has surprised me at times with its tenderness and intensity. Building well-founded interpretations with someone is in and of itself very intimate -- not sensually, but humanly. It has given me something I have always wanted -- an intimacy that is pervasive not just in application of knowledge, but in the development of it. A feeling of sacredness and joy from being able to see so many different perspectives.

I long for this connection, this alchemy. Yes, all models are limited. But within those tight, restricting limits is the potential energy of creation.

“And I Must Learn”

There is an infamous story in the Talmud, in Berakhot 62a, where Rav Kahana hides under the bed of his friend Rav Abba. Rav Kahana hears Abba and his wife giggling and starting to have sex, and remarks out loud that Rav Abba is acting like someone who is famished. Rav Abba, mid-sex, understandably says, “Kahana, why the fuck are you under my bed listening to me fuck my wife?” Rav Kahana replies, “It is Torah, and I must learn.”

There was a version of this essay that began with this tale. I am enamored with the vast overlaps I can derive from its briefness: that intimacy can be studied sacredly both as a general concept and specifically with your partner; that we are obligated to learn ourselves, our partners, and general human desire; that there can be a thread of wholeness in every action of your life if you give every action sacred attention.

Even this, though, is a limited-context interpretation. The rabbis of the Talmud were certainly not sex-positive, especially not as we currently use the term. The surrounding triptych of conversations is similarly humorous but seems to comparatively describe sex as dirty or gross, and this bit of text cannot really exist separately from all of the places where there is halacha derived about sex that is about controlling women’s bodies or preventing queer and trans people from being able to live authentically.

But -- we are allowed to interpret like this. We are allowed to play with context and see what we discover.

For me, this is about finding the connections between my actions and my interests; parts of me that synthesize the whole. It is about developing intimacy with Torah, with my learning partners, with my romantic partners; with the people within the writings, with the authors, and with the readers.

Reading Torah is the same as hypnotizing someone is the same being intimate with someone is the same as doing a ritual. All things on a broad enough scale overlap this closely. There is value in this “zooming out” to a wide enough context to see the connections that exist -- just as there is value in celebrating the limitations that arise, models nestled alongside each other, when you “zoom in.”

We need both to be able to treat our learning -- all forms of it -- as something special.

#my writing #hypnosis #judaism #hypnokink

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Bogeyman

CR 10

Neutral Evil Medium Fey

Bestiary 3, pg. 42 (pic taken from Adventure Path: Extinction Curse: Legacy of the Lost God, pg. 79)

For years, FOR! YEARS! I’ve wanted to do an article on the Bogeyman. This monster has a very special spot in my heart, because around 10 years ago when I was just getting into tabletop stuff, I found a copy of Bestiary 3 on a game store shelf and flicked it open. After flicking past Behemoths and Asura, the most striking image to hit my eyes was what appeared to be a clown in a jaunty tophat and an absolutely menacing set of chompers. While by no means my favorite creature in Bestiary 3, my earliest memory of Pathfinder content was seeing that garish purple-and-red beast masquerading as a human, and as such the Bogeyman held a special place in my heart.

Which made it absolutely heartbreaking when my every attempt at extracting its picture from the PDF for use on this blog ended up looking HIDEOUS in a way my brain couldn’t reconcile with. As such, my first-ish exposure to Pathfinder languished... up until recently, with the release of 2nd Edition and a whole host of updated art for a WHOLE bunch of critters! While this Bogeyman isn’t my favorite--I’ll always love the bright purple bastard from 3--it certainly still portrays the mood of the Bogeyman in a way I enjoy. There’s plenty of Fey who cause fear for their own amusement, more than a few who eat it in some fashion, but Bogeymen are fear. They’re terror incarnate, they’re living nightmares, they’re the villain of a thousand stories and they know it, they revel in it, they wear it on their sleeves!

Bogeyman delight in finding singular victims and haunting them for days or even weeks, silently lurking under beds, within closets, in attics, or in basements, occasionally using Ghost Sound to create eerie noises, Darkness to cut the lights, or even Invisibility to quietly stalk their victims from their very own shadows until the haunted soul is on the verge of a breakdown. They’re artisans of terror, delicately crafting every moment of their target’s life of fear, plaguing them with Nightmares by night and by day whispering horrid thoughts into the victim’s ears from an invisible vantage point, making them lash out against friends and family to assure they’re entirely isolated when the malevolent Fey finally decides to end their lives. 

Like many creeping terrors, Bogeymen prefer to keep out of combat unless they’re sure they can win, remaining in the background otherwise. Unlike many creeping terrors, this should by no means make you think they’ll fold easily. They have high saves for their CR, DR 15/cold iron, and 21 SR, but their most infuriating defense is their ability to go invisible at will. Bogeymen are as maddeningly patient in combat as they are when seasoning their victims, flitting in and out of sight with Invisibility and exploiting their titanic +35 to Stealth checks to slither among combatants and find out where they’re weakest, physically and emotionally. Even an invisible Bogeyman can make use of its +28 to Intimidation checks to shake up anyone who can hear it speak as it waits for an opening, something it’s very keen on doing because as you may expect, Bogeymen are all about fear!

They live for fear, gaining Fast Healing 5 if someone within 30ft of them is suffering from any level of it. 30ft is, coincidentally, the range of their Deepest Fear aura, and illusion that shapes itself into the worst fears of anyone who views it. Failing a DC 25 Will save means you’re shaken as long as you’re in the aura, but succeeding the save renders one immune to it for 24 hours... but that just won’t do, will it? We can’t have someone NOT be afraid, so if someone succeeds and maintains a brave face, the Bogeyman disappears once more to Intimidate them, either through the skill check or with their claws. Their 1d8+1 damage claws aren’t really all that scary, but the burst of +6d6 from their Sneak Attack will probably make both the character AND the player jump. Both claws crit on a 19 or 20, and being critically hit by their claws causes Striking Fear to mount up. Failing another DC 25 Will save while already suffering from a fear effect compounds the fear, moving shaken to frightened, frightened to panicked, and panicked to paralyzed with fear (and thus vulnerable to being torn to shreds by Sneak Attack). While relying on crits is... well, unreliable at best, someone being hit even once while already shaken removes that person from the fight for several rounds, as frightened creatures must flee unless cornered, potentially giving the Fey deadly amounts of breathing room so it can recover and slip away... or savage a different, more vulnerable target.

Or just instantly kill someone who’s proven they’re a threat to it. For whatever demonic reason, Paizo decided to give them 3 castings of Quickened Phantasmal Killer each day! The moment it pops out of invisibility to Sneak Attack someone, it may be able to just take out someone else nearby with a glance! If your party doesn’t have any protection from fear, an encounter with a Bogeyman may go from tough to unwinnable in a single round.

If you can weather their initial Sneak Attack and have a way to counter their invisibility (like a sack of flour), things get much simpler. Adding onto that, anything that’s not afraid of them, either because it passed its save against the aura or was unaffected by it in the first place (in case you needed another reason to put Unbreakable Heart in your spell list), takes an enormous bite out of its offense and its defense and can potentially leave it floundering. Even with that weakness, Bogeymen still have access to Hold Person at 3/day to use against creatures they cannot terrify and Suggestion at will to manipulate them so they’re not ENTIRELY helpless against Paladins; keep that in mind if you’re going fey-hunting!

As a closing note, it’s a little funny to me that Bogeymen don’t actually have Darkvision, so their at-will Darkness--which would otherwise be an excellent tool to get in more Sneak Attacks--is just as much and impediment to them as it is to everyone else. It’s also extremely ironic that they’re not immune to fear effects, so any telepathic creature that succeeds against their Phantasmal Killer can turn it back around against them, potentially killing them with their own ability!

You can read more about them here.

#Monster Spotlight #CR 6 to 10 #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

[sequinsmile-x]

Hello Have you ever thought about Emily feeling insecure?

Most of the stories I've read imply that Emily is too much for Aaron, asking what she sees in him.

But if it was emily who felt that Aaron could do better?

hi bestieee of course!

I hope you enjoy this <3

The Wreckage of You

The comments from their friends that she knows were intended as playful had chipped away at her biggest fear of all, the pieces of it now laying at her feet. 

He was too good for her, and it would only be a matter of time before he figured it out too. 

-x-

Words: 3k

Warnings: none!

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily’s phone chimes letting her know she has a text message as she climbs out of a cab. She smiles her thanks at the cab driver before she closes the door and pulls her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. She sighs as she sees a text from her boyfriend on the screen, and lovingly shakes her head. 

I’m running late - still at the office. 

Aaron had encouraged her to leave the office close to two hours ago to go home to get ready for their night out with the team, his eyes fixed on his paperwork as he mumbled he’d make it to the bar at the same time as her. She types out her response and sends it. 

Oh, I see your game honey - leave me to the wolves!!

They’d been together for close to a year but the team had only known about them for a few weeks. Part of Emily had hoped that the team would simply figure it out, that they’d used their skills to see what was right in front of them, especially in the moments when it felt like she and Aaron’s love for each other were clear for all to see, but it never happened. The secret had initially been practical. A tool they hadn’t really needed as they figured out what they meant to each other, as if they didn’t know they’d been in love with each other for years. It slowly became part of their relationship, making it something just for the two of them, and Jack and Jessica who were the only people who knew.

Letting go of the secrecy, letting the outside world in, had been harder than she thought it would be, but she knew it needed to happen. They already lived together in everything but name, her apartment somewhere she kept her furniture and bills, and they had agreed she couldn’t officially move in until the team knew. When they told them the reactions were mixed, something that still stung a little if Emily thought about it too much. Now it felt like everything she did was scrutinised, the team finally turning their professional eyes on their relationship. 

She was grateful for it though, a weight she hadn’t known was on her chest lifting as soon as the others knew. Her apartment was listed now, she’d changed her official address to Aaron’s, something Penelope had picked up on immediately, and everything felt like it was falling into place. 

Penelope had suggested the night out, and Emily knew that on some level it was an attempt to get to know a little more about them as a couple. Despite that, she and Aaron agreed to it, knowing that the secret that they had kept for months would naturally create questions.

She watches as another message from Aaron comes through, and she laughs as she reads it, already formulating her reply as she pushes the door to the bar open. 

I’m sorry, I’ll repay you!

You’d better mean in sexual favours, Agent Hotchner. I have no need for cash. 

“Em, over here.”

She looks up and sees the rest of them are already there, and Derek is holding up a beer that is clearly intended for her. She smiles and starts to walk over, her phone vibrating twice in her hand and two texts from Aaron come through immediately. 

What else would I mean? 

Love you

She quickly types out a response, letting him know she loves him too and that he’d better not leave her alone with their prying friends for too long, and she places her phone in her pocket. 

“Where’s Hotch?” Penelope asks when Emily makes it over to them, pulling her into a hug before she can even reply.

“He got stuck at the office,” Emily replies, gratefully taking a beer from Derek, “He’ll be on his way soon.”

At first, it feels like a normal night. The drinks constantly flowing, mostly provided by Dave who set up a tab when he arrived, and plenty of laughter. Emily convinces Derek to play darts with her and she can’t help but laugh when she beats him, her hand sympathetically patting his shoulder when he pouts at the loss. Penelope pulls her aside and tries to convince her to spill details about her and Aaron’s sex life, something she was nowhere near drunk enough to do. Yet. 

This was something she had missed in Paris. The sense of family and belonging she’d longed for her whole life that she’d had to die to protect. There were days that having it back felt surreal. A small part of her worried that she’d wake up alone in a tiny apartment where she lived under a different name and this would have been nothing but a dream. 

Aaron always stopped those fears with nothing but a simple touch, because she knew, not even in her wildest dreams, that she would have been able to come up with what being with him was actually like. He was everything she’d convinced herself wasn’t real, the things of the fairytales that her mother always told her not to read. His love unending and quiet, always there ready to hold her up if she need it, if she needed him. 

She would spend her whole life hoping she deserved it, and that she could live up to the standard he had set. 

“Any news on Hotch?” JJ asks and Emily checks her phone, smiling when she sees a text saying he’d left the office.

“He’s on his way,” she replies, smiling as she locks her phone and looks at the wallpaper. It was a photo of her and Aaron, a selfie she’d made him take on a recent date night. They were both smiling, their cheeks squished together as she tried to get them both in the frame. 

“Oh my god thats so cute,” Penelope says, snatching her phone from her to get a better look before she turns it for the others to see. Emily rolls her eyes at their reactions, a mixture of delight in her embarrassment and shock at the small insight into her life, and she takes her phone back from her friend.

“I’ve got to say, princess, you are truly full of surprises.” Derek says, and she narrows her eyes at him, familiar with the teasing glint of his smile, as he carries on, “First you make it to almost a year in a relationship, a secret one no less, and now you’ve managed to get Hotch to take selfies.” 

Her smile falters slightly, and she covers it by clearing her throat, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, peaches,” Penelope says, sipping her drink, “You and Hotch have been together almost a year, thats the longest we’ve ever known you to be with someone. And we didn’t even know until last month!”

The agreeing chuckles and nods from the others make her heart drop into her stomach. They’d unknowingly hooked into the main insecurity in her relationship with Aaron. He’d been in a long-term relationship before and he’d learnt from the mistakes he’d made in his marriage. He was attentive in a way he told her he hadn’t shown Haley in those last few years, something he regretted to this day. She didn’t have the same experience, something that considering she was now in her 40s made her embarrassed in a way she couldn’t put into words. Her longest relationship as an adult was with Ian, and she hated to count it. The part of her that had loved Ian the part she wrestled with the most. 

It made her worry that she was depriving Aaron of the partner he deserved. Of the love he deserved after everything he had been through. 

Emily knows her friends aren’t being cruel, that their comments are simply meant to be fun, part of the way they always made fun of each other, but it hurts, a pull in her gut that makes her clench her teeth. She’s about to respond, to brush off their comments with a quip of her own, when Dave stops her, smiling past her as he talks.

“Speak of the devil,” Dave says, and she follows his gaze, feeling some relief when her eyes meet Aaron’s. 

He walks over and presses a kiss to her cheek, “Hi,” he whispers against her skin, kissing her again, “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she replies smiling tightly at him, hoping he can’t see through it, “I’m glad you made it.”

He stares at her for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly, “Are you ok, sweetheart?” He asks, his hand slipping around her waist before settling on her hip. She turns her head to look at him and smiles, a flash of concern in his eyes letting her know that he sees right through it. She leans forward to kiss him before he can ask again, not wanting to get into it here if at all. 

“I’m ok,” she replies, placing her hand on his cheek to hold him in place so she can kiss him again, ignoring the playful jeering from their friends. She smiles when she pulls back, “You’re here now.” 

If anything, that seems to increase his concern. The line between his brows gets deeper and he holds her closer, his thumb sneaking under her shirt and rubbing at the skin over her hipbone. She shakes her head at him subtly, just enough so he sees it because of how close he’s standing, and the others don’t. It’s a silent request that he doesn’t push her, that he lets it go, and he mercifully concedes, nodding as he kisses her cheek, before he turns to Dave, taking the beer he was offering him with a grateful smile. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he says to the team, his thumb drawing circles on Emily’s skin the only sign left of his concern, a silent promise that he was there, that he loved her. 

The usual joy she’d find in it, in his seemingly relentless affection for her, is nowhere to be found. Instead, it feels like it is turning to ash around her, every fear and concern that she’d pushed down for months swirling in her chest, ready to catch fire and burn it all to the ground. The comments from their friends that she knows were intended as playful had chipped away at her biggest fear of all, the pieces of it now laying at her feet. 

He was too good for her, and it would only be a matter of time before he figured it out too. 

___

They don’t stay for long after Aaron arrives. 

He clearly picks up on her mood and follows her lead, not complaining once after he barely finishes a beer before she says she wants to go home. JJ pulls her aside before they do leave, making sure she understands it was just a joke, that none of them meant anything by it. She nods along, still unable to convince herself entirely, doubt and insecurities burning at her insides. 

When they do get home she sighs as she drops onto the couch. She wants nothing more than to just go to bed and snuggle up to him, to draw the comfort from him that only he was able to provide her. He sits next to her and she can feel him staring, the embargo she had set on him asking what was wrong lifted now they were in their apartment. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks simply, and she sighs, and she considers telling him she’s fine. Brushing it off so she can process it all herself and move on. Push down the things she doesn’t want to feel and put them into boxes. Sealed shut in the way she’d been taught at a young age. It’s what she’s done for years, for her whole life, and she’s good at it, but as she looks at him she realises she doesn’t want to do that. She wants to talk to him and seek out his comfort. 

She crosses her arms over her chest and swallows thickly, “You have to promise not to get mad.” 

She knows him well enough to know that will be his first reaction. That his love for her, his fierce desire to protect her would override anything else. She’s proven correct when his eyebrows furrow and his jaw gets visibly tighter. She stares at him for a second, not carrying on until he agrees, and he sighs, closing his eyes for a second before he nods.

“Ok, I promise.” 

She smiles and shifts so she’s facing him, her legs curled up between them, and she rests her elbows on the back of the couch and her head on her hand. 

“Before you got there tonight the others were saying that they are surprised I’ve been in a relationship for almost a year,” she picks at a loose thread on the couch, finding it easier to concentrate on that than anything else, “It was implied that they didn’t think I was capable of doing it.”

“What?” He asks darkly, and she looks up at him, her eyebrows raised as she smiles fondly at him, a silent reminder of his promise, and he clears his throat, forcing himself to relax before he places his hand on her leg, squeezing gently, “Sorry.” 

“They didn’t mean anything by it, I know that, but…I don’t know. It hurt, I guess.” 

He reaches for her hand and links their fingers together, making sure she's looking at him before he replies, “You know that it doesn’t matter that you’ve never done this before, don’t you?”

“I know,” she says, wishing she sounded like she believed it. She blows out a breath and shakes her head at herself, “I just want to be good enough for you.” 

Aaron briefly looks furious, but she knows this time it isn’t aimed at their friends, but at her, “You don’t think you’re good enough for me?” 

She shrugs half-heartedly, avoiding his eye contact, “Sometimes I think you could do better than me,” she says, finally putting it into words, “You deserve someone who can give you everything. Someone who isn’t damaged.”

“You aren’t damaged,” he says fiercely, and she looks up at him, surprised at the level of fury she is met with, “You’re, everything, Em.” She doesn’t mean to, but she laughs. A chuckle escaping at how easy he makes it sound when their lives were anything but easy. He cups her cheek and holds her in place, his eyes stern as he makes her look at him, “I mean it. I love you. And everything that comes with it.” 

“Aaron, I love you too but-”

“No buts,” he says, cutting over her, stopping her protest before it can fully escape, “I love who you are now, I love the person you were when we met. I love who you will be when we’re old and grey and you insist I’m the one who’s moved your glasses.” 

She chuckles again, but this time it catches on a sob, the sound lodging in her throat as her vision blurs, his love for her overwhelming. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was a proposal,” she chokes out, and he wipes a tear she hadn’t realised escaped from her cheek. 

Aaron smiles at her and leans forward, pressing his lips against her forehead before he smiles at her, “When I do propose you’ll know it’s happening,” he quips, a brief moment of levity they both needed before he turns serious again, “I know you’ve been through things that changed you, but so have I.”

She can’t help but look at the spot on the floor where he’d been attacked all those years ago, where she’d found his blood but not him. She’d loved him then too, but at the time she couldn’t put a name to it.

“I know you have,” she replies, turning to look at him before she shifts closer and buries herself in his arms, her words muffled against his shirt. “I know.” 

“Do you think those things mean I’m not good enough for you?” He asks, and she holds him tighter before she pulls back to look at him, anger igniting in her blood.  

“Of course not,” she says, “How could you…” she drifts off as he smiles at her, and she rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she wipes another tear from her cheek, “Very clever.” 

He smiles and kisses her, resting his forehead against hers, “I thought so,” he kisses her again, “I love you, and you love me. We both love Jack and he loves us. That is what matters.” 

She knows it’s not really that simple, that life was infinitely more complicated than that. She wasn’t some wide-eyed kid who didn’t know better. She’d been beaten down by life more than once, but then again so had he. So maybe, just this once, it could be that simple.

Or at least, she could allow it to be.

“Ok,” she replies, nodding so their foreheads knock a little bit before she snuggles back into his side. 

She wonders if it should feel ridiculous how he’s able to make her feel so much better just after one conversation, how he has been able to salve her concerns that had been simmering for longer than she’d care to admit in a few minutes. She wonders how she ever lived without him, how she ever slept without him next to her, and she knows it’s not something she ever wants to return to. 

“Em?” He asks, running his hand up and down her arm, and she hums in response, “Who said what to you exactly this evening? I’ve got a lot of additional paperwork that needs doing and I need to figure out who to assign it to.” 

She laughs, shaking her head before she rests her head against his shoulder, “Aaron.” 

-x-

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#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotch x prentiss

[omegothic]

opinion on ffxv after 75 hours of playing (and one hour of running in circles to level gladio's skill up) (still haven't played any of the dlcs but i'm gonna take a break or something for a few days because i severely neglected my university stuff and spent most of the last week obsessively playing this game)

i love this game. am i tired? hell yeah. would i want all these hours back? hell no.

the game is a mystery to me.

the sidequests are genshin impact open world quests level (which means that if i hear anyone talking, i'm pressing the skip button because i don't give a fuck). you listen to someone yapping about unimportant stuff and they make you collect the same shit over and over again. peak game design.

the main quests are good but the ending made me age 10 years in a week. there's NO NEED for these tragedies. boy you literally have the power of gods on your side and they tell you the only way to get rid of the big bad villain is to kill yourself? sounds like bullshit to me. also why even bother if there's only a few thousands people left in the world. you already lost, all this stuff had to be done 10 years ago to have any meaning. and there's no way the world didn't just implode or something when the sun stopped rising. the true ending is noctis getting spat out of the crystal and realising everyone is long gone because there's no sunlight.

the mentally ill hobo could have been more cooperative too geez. i'll be honest i like him much more than the six. and everyone's like "oh gods are helping you" no they hate me and want me to die for no reason. i'd rather join forces with ardyn and try to take them down. even if he did a lot of questionable stuff (cough- killed my bride -cough-cough- and her brother -cough- also kidnapped my friend and tortured him-)

the hunts are kinda fun when it's a big monster but when it's a bunch of goblins i'm like,,, why did you call me here? ngl i thought all hunts would be like the first one, it was truly cool. there was some kind of plot, some interactions with my friends, some stealth, the monster seemed really tough (meanwhile me, fighting the lvl 99 adamantoise 65 hours later: the ring of lucii go brrr-)

the dungeons are ass. i thought nothing could be as disorienting as daggerfall's randomly generated dungeons but they really managed to do a miracle with ffxv. although the dungeons in ffxv are not scary at all, that's the difference.

the open world is okay. there're some interesting places (when you first see the big mysterious creature in the lake you're like do i have to fight it?? can i get closer to it?? what is this??) and the nature is beautiful. altissia looks majestic but sadly there's not much to do. i appreciate the hard work tho.

using regalia was a delight. when you want to take a break and just look at the landscape you can just sit still with a controller in your hands and enjoy the ride. really therapeutic. don't drive at night when you're low level though... listen to ignis. ignis is always right.

the camp life is by far the best out of all games i've had an experience with. there's so many little details everywhere that you cannot help but adore your companions. it's the way every time you make camp you get a bunch of photos prompto took since the last break. it's the way your companions talk to you almost all the time and you truly feel like you are on a road trip with your friends. it's the way gladio calls you out on your bullshit and afterwards you want to bite his head off each time you talk to him. it's the way ignis cooks for the entire party and makes you help him sometimes. i just love the way friendship is portrayed here.

what was not as good is luna and noct's relationship. there was not enough of luna. yes she loves noct but why? yes noct loves luna but why? luna literally appeared in the plot for two minutes and then tragically died. i think it's really bad. also imagine not seeing your bride for 12 years, when you finally meet her again she immediately dies, then you spend 10 years trapped in a crystal, fucking die and then get to marry your bride. honey it's been 22 years since i last talked to you in person. i'm NOT marrying a random woman in the afterlife (no hate for luna, just this love story didn't seem convincing enough). hopefully i'm gonna see what they wrote in the dawn of the future soon (please pray so that my amazon package doesn't get lost 🙏)

the music is incredible. the woman who wrote the soundtrack is my goddess and i am a devout worshipper 🙏🙏🙏

so, why is the game a mystery to me? because no other game could make me endure 75 hours of boring side quests. i managed to play hogwarts legacy for 44 hours and i despised that game when i finished it. i despised it long before i finished it. but not ffxv. they could make me do all this boring stuff again and i would do it (not for free tho because i've got better things to do with my time 🤣)

i enjoyed ffxv a lot. it also made me depressed for a week because ending a game like that should be a crime. i think i'm gonna do a few last quests after that but there's not much left (and i'm not looking for more because if i think i am done then i am done). not sure how long episodes gladiolus, prompto and ignis are gonna take, but they're also in my plans (no ardyn tho, gotta go watch some playthrough). there's also anime and a film so plenty of content for me. and i am waiting for the arrival of my book 🫡

(noticed that there's nothing about the combat. well it's because i don't care. i don't like combat. i don't like it in any game. i prefer to flee)

#ffxv #final fantasy #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv

[george-weasleys-girl]

Would you be willing to do a Modern!Au with George either dating muggleborn or muggle reader and she introduces him to Beat Saber or Just Dance.

Ngl, this one intimidated me a little. I'm not a gamer. Like at all. (Yes, I know I'm a weirdo.) I do admit to having played Beat Saber and Just Dance, but only a couple of times, a few years ago. So, it took me a while to work out the best way to write this one.

Here goes, I hope you like it!

~•~

Y/N's entire family was crowded around in the living room, watching as George's score shot higher and higher.

"Somebody needs to call the Guinness Book of World Records," Y/N's little brother whispered. "This is getting insane." And he was right. George had been at this for the better part of an hour, and his score was off the charts.

She'd introduced him to Beat Saber a few days earlier, and once he got used to the whole VR experience, there was no stopping him. "It reminds me a bit of Quidditch," he'd told her. That made sense, Y/N reckoned. He was a Beater, and the concept was pretty much the same. That was also probably why he was so good at it. Being a Beater gave him an advantage that most people, especially beginners, don't have. Spot on accuracy. George was playing expert level by the end of the week.

~•~

As it turned out, no one called the Guinness Book of World Records, but Y/N's older brother researched how to register for an upcoming Beat Saber tournament.

"Dude, you've got to start competing. You're too good not to."

It didn't take much convincing.

Long story short, instead of bouncing back and forth between the Burrow and Y/N's house as they did every summer, they pretty much lived at her house while George entered into one tournament after another, winning every single one of them.

Most of these were small tournaments hosted by local gamer groups. But, after George's unprecedented winning streak, Y/N's brothers and a few of his competitors suggested he sign up for the Beat Saber League Tournament. They held competitions every six months, with competitors from around the world participating.

And, as luck would have it, there was one scheduled to wrap up a couple weeks before they had to return to Hogwarts.

So, of course, he signed up. And, much to Y/N's surprise, he took it far more seriously than she ever expected.

"Why are you getting up so early?" Y/N asked George the following morning.

"Training, love. Gotta keep my skills sharp."

Over the next few weeks, he was up at the crack of dawn to train, nearly every day. He would've done it every day, but Y/N put her foot down.

"You need to take at least one day off, or you're going to exhaust yourself," she told him. "Even Oliver didn't make you practice every day, nor did he make you practice ALL DAY." George huffed and puffed about it. But, despite all his protests that he didn't need a break, his days off were spent in sloth mode. Sleeping until noon and spending the rest of the day half-dozing while watching tv and doing as little as possible.

~•~

On the day of the playoffs, they had a full house. The Weasley clan came over to watch George compete. Y/N didn't think she'd ever seen Fred quite this excited over anything, barring Quidditch. The boy could not sit still, bounding from one end of the room to the other while Mrs. Weasley yelled at him to "just sit down for Godric's sake!" It was only when George's time started that the older twin settled, sitting on the floor cross-legged, his eyes riveted to the screen.

As the hours went by, George maintained his winning streak, moving on to the next round and, then the next and the next, until he and one other person were the only players left standing.

"You've got this, Georgie," Fred assured him, while Y/N forced him to rehydrate and eat a little something.

Everyone, George included, thought he did, indeed, have this.

That is until his final competitor was announced.

Maya Campbell, a nine year old girl, had wiped the floor with everyone she went up against, and now she was ready to take on George.

"Shit," George mummered.

"He's toast," Ginny whispered to Y/N. "And he knows it."

"Uh huh." Y/N nodded.

Y/N had never seen anything like it. If she thought George's skills were insane, then Miss Campbell's were almost inhuman.

Sweat streamed down George's face, his breath ragged as he pushed himself to his very limits, attempting to overtake her lead. Every time he got close, she would kick it up a notch, almost as she was taunting him by letting him think he was gaining on her, only knock him back down moments later. Toward the end, George started to lag, his accuracy faltering.

As soon as the game was called, George collapsed on the floor, laughing. "I don't know whether to be embarrassed or honored that I just got my ass kicked by a nine year old."

"She was impressive," Y/N said.

"That she was," he agreed.

"Wouldn't it be awesome if she were a witch?" Ginny pondered.

"Why do you say that?" Fred asked.

"Could you imagine her on the Quidditch field?!"

George chuckled at that, shaking his head. "Noooo, no way I'd go up against her again. I'd just lay my broom and bat at her feet and declare her team the winner then and there."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @innerloverpainter @samberriejams

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley imagines #george weasley headcanon

[silverbladexyz]

okay this is a long and specific request (sry just a random thought)

Dazai X Reader (with teleportation ability)

background story

Y/N (16 at the time) was a half time worker at the ada but was very often at the PM (btw she didnt tell that they worked in the ada) because she was Chuuyas younger sibling (only by one year) and looked at Koyo like a older sister. she was the one that trained Gins assation skills. She was also kinda close to Dazai, and was bestfriends with Yosano. But since she was 16 she had to go somewhere to study, so she decided to study somewhere in Europe to study coding or something and got in. But while she was there she needed a job so she went around and looked for a job and she found a good paying job but ofc it was a trap that was setup by Nikolai cuz he just wanted to. But somehow she was able to become Nikolai`s student and Sigmas bestfriend in the sky casino. She did finish studying and all that before becoming a DOA member. Years later (21 years old now) went back to Yokoami because Fyvodor was able to get arested. She finally got to catch up with everyone both from the pm and ada (but left out that she joined the DOA) Even though she was with everyone she was alot with Dazai, so Yosano and some other ADA memebers gets curios over this and the do some thing random you decide.

the plot and the request

the reader wants to quit the DOA but feels bad about it beacause she has been with them for a long time so its hard for her (but ends up leaving before the end)

Dazai x reader

pls no NSFW or smut

chuuya and Koyo finds out about dazai and reader (not happy chuuya)

looks : 155 cm, Ginger with a white streak of hair, no specific e/c, loves baggy clothes but dosent wear all the time

personality : kinda like Oda but a bit more expressive and lower chanse to get angry than Chuuya but close, loves Cheese, chocolate and cats. Dislikes killing for fun, horror movies, rats (fyvodor PTSD) and creepy people (cough* cough* Mori cough* cough*)

the rest is up to you or if you want to switch something do it

its ok if you dont want to do this :) hope you have a wonderful day/night

Hiii!! Lemme give you a medal first for the longest request ever that I've received xD 🎖And I will try my best to write this! 

Btw, I changed a few parts! Reader is 19 when she meets Nikolai because it is canon that Sigma appeared from the book 3 years ago and reader wants to leave the DOA. She also catches up with the PM and the ADA, but it isn’t mentioned in this fic.

TW: Mentions of suicide, Dazai, killing, slight mentions of Fyodor’s philosophy

BSD Manga spoilers below!

Dazai x fem!reader 

Should I stay, or should I go?

If you were asked to describe what you were feeling now, it would be a mess.

This whole ‘mess’ started when you left Japan at the age of 16 to study coding. A brilliant student and a prodigy at the subject, it was no surprise when the most prestigious school in Europe accepted you into their coding course. It was a bit hard to fit in at first, but later on you had made friends with everyone in your class, and you also were the top student in the year level for coding.

But you had to leave behind your friends and family. You were honestly a bit sad when you had to leave your older brother behind, but he had urged you to go for the scholarship, even when you could tell that Chuuya also didn’t want you to leave. You also had a hard time leaving your friends in the Port Mafia and the ADA, especially Yosano since you two were best friends, but they all encouraged you to follow your dreams and accept the offer.

The person you had the hardest time saying goodbye to was Dazai.

Dazai, the suicidal maniac of the Port Mafia. He normally put on a goofy and annoying personality, but his eyes were blank, as dead as the bodies that he had killed. Since you were Chuuya’s younger sister, he naturally took an interest in you and teased you for your height, however, your personality made him intrigued. Dazai then befriended you and often hung out with you when you two had time.

It wasn’t long before you caught feelings for him. His wit, his charm, his cunningly smart mind roped you in, and not to mention he himself was quite the handsomer. You were on the verge of confessing to him, but you had moved to Europe afterwards. Your feelings then evaporated, but the residue was still left in your heart. 

The last time you saw Dazai was when you went out for drinks with him. He knew; of course he knew about your scholarship. Dazai had smiled at you and wished you luck, but his eyes didn’t quite match his smile. You were too preoccupied with the thoughts of a new life that you didn’t realise how painfully Dazai looked at you.

Moving to Europe meant expensive living standards, and expensive living standards meant that you had to find a job to get enough money. For three whole years, you were working at a lot of part-time jobs since you were a full-time student. The money you earned was enough, but it didn’t stop you from being stingy.

One day, you were scrolling around on the internet when you found an advertisement for a part-time coder at a programming agency. The pay was quite well for a part-timer, and you could definitely use some extra money. Without hesitation, you called the number and arranged for an interview to take place.

However, you had walked into a trap. Your ‘employer’ was a clown who went by the name of Nikolai Gogol. He tried to kidnap you to use for one of his missions, however, when he saw your teleportation ability, all thoughts of using you for his mission were gone. He then offered you then and there to be your mentor, or else he would kill you then and there and make it seem like nothing happened.

Even if you were suspicious of him, you were in no place to refuse. And so you started your life as a Decay of Angels member.

Hacking, travelling, killing enemy groups, exchanging information, these had grown to be the norm for you. You were trained well, and you could handle yourself in the missions you were given, but it was mostly thanks to your teleportation ability. Without it, you would either have been burnt alive or sliced into pieces or decapacitated.

Over the course of 5 years, you had grown quite close with Sigma, and Nikolai proved to be quite a good teacher and older brother figure. You were glad to have made new friends, but you hated your new life. Every single detail of it, and especially the Russian man who was the mastermind.

You wanted to leave.

But you knew it was no use. Even if you could escape with your teleportation ability, Fyodor could merely track you down and send someone to assassinate you. The demon always saw through everything behind those cold, amethyst eyes of his, and you were no exception.

Until 3 years later.

~~~

“Fyodor was arrested?”

You and Sigma were currently enjoying a break in his office. It was evening, and the sky was a beautiful pinkish hue. When he had casually stated the statement, you had jolted a little. Someone as careful and as cunning as the Devil himself getting caught?

Sigma nodded. “It’s all part of the plan, remember? When Fyodor is in prison, we’ll have to wait one month. After the Armed Detective Agency receives an award, then the plan will truly begin.”

The Armed Detective Agency.

Those three words, uttered with the utmost casualness, conjured up a storm of emotions within you. Memories from 7 years ago came swirling back, of you solving cases with Ranpo and going out shopping with Yosano. How sometimes, you would feed stray cats with Fukuzawa, or just hanging out with some of your friends. Your hand unconsciously curled up into a fist at the thought of what Dostoevsky had in plan for them. You leaned forward.

“What about the Port Mafia?”

“The Port Mafia?” Sigma looked at you curiously. “I’m pretty sure Dostoevsky has laid plans for them as well. He isn’t the type to forgo any possible threat.” He took a sip from a glass of water.

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering,” you replied. Sigma waited for you to speak more, but when it was evident that was all you were going to say, he didn’t press. You stood up, stretching, your face betraying no emotion.

“I’m pretty tired, so I’ll go to bed early. Good night, Sigma.” You said, yawning. Sigma only looked at you with more curiousity, but he didn’t judge. He nodded back and bid you goodnight, and you teleported into your room.

The Armed Detective Agency, the Port Mafia, Yokohama... they’ll all be doomed. Now is my chance to escape and help them!

But out of nowhere, a second voice came into your mind.

Are you sure? You know how close you have gotten with Sigma. And Nikolai; he was the best mentor that you’ve ever had, no? It would be a shame to suddenly leave them after everything you had been through together. And what about all the people you’ve killed? Do you think there’s still a place for a sinner such as you in the world?

Dostoevsky’s mocking laughter echoed in your head. The memory of his cold, violet eyes resurfaced, as well as his smirk that was only befitting for a demon like him. You pinched yourself, the pain keeping you awake and alert.

Shut up. Your philosophy means nothing to me. Yes, even though I am a sinner, it doesn’t mean that I can’t find a way to become a better person. I’m going to leave this place, and returning to my friends and family.

Fyodor’s smirk widened.

Go ahead. Try to.

Deep down, you knew that he was correct. You were always one to get too attached to people, and when the time came, it was too hard for you to let go. Only someone with enough intelligence was able to persuade you to bid farewell, to accept the change and to move on in life.

Such as Dazai.

~~~

“Ne, Dazai-kun. Say that there’s this person who is in a crime syndicate. They know that what they’re doing is wrong, however, they also find it so hard to leave because of the friendships they made in the organisation. What would you do if that person were you?”

15-year old you and Dazai were sitting in Bar Lupin together. It was a quiet night, with no people, no cars, no noises. Just peace and tranquillity.

“Hmmmmm...” Dazai pondered, tilting his head like a curious child.

“I would probably commit suicide! This situation sounds so tough to be in, and it definitely would torture me mentally, so why not end everything before it gets much worse?” He grinned, yet despite his excited tone of voice, his left eye was as dull and lifeless as before.

You blinked. “I’m serious, Dazai. What would be the best way?”

“Mmmm.... it’s a case of ‘logic vs emotion’.” You tilted your head, surprised to see that Dazai was kind of serious.

“Logically, it would be the best decision to stay. Criminal organisations are ruthless to the ones who try to leave, and the relationships made in the syndicate would’ve all been for nothing. After all, nobody dares to disobey the big Boss.” Dazai flicked his glass with a finger. A ping! sound filled the air.

“Buuuut, in my opinion, I would leave. Afterall, things do get boring quite quickly when you’ve gotten used to it, and not to mention that those ‘friends’ could become backstabbers in a second. So my advice would be to leave the organisation and find something to give you a will to live. Or, as the old saying goes, ‘follow your heart’.”

You pondered for a moment.

“But you know what’s cooler? Leaving without a trace and suddenly reappearing on the enemy organisation! That would be something to laugh about! Imagine the looks on their faces!” Dazai said excitedly, spinning around in his chair.

“I should probably do that! Ne, Y/N-chan, you would be my accomplice, would you not? And even if we fail, at least we would be able to die alongside each other!” He leaned forward, lips curled up into an eager and childish smile. Your cheeks felt hot for a moment, but you made yourself look passive.

“Unlike you, I’m not a suicidal maniac. So, thank you but no thank you.” Dazai drew back, a pout on his lips.

“So mean, Y/N-chan.”

~~~

He was right.

You hated every single second spent in this organisation, and it had slowly drained away your will to live. Even when you had made friendships, you knew it was a matter of time before the own organisation would betray you. And the hurt you would feel then wouldn’t be twice as bad as the hurt you would feel if you leave.

You recalled Dazai’s eyes; dull and lifeless with no spark of life in them. That apathetic-ness had only increased as time passed by, each day growing duller and duller by the moment.

Just remembering Dazai’s name awakened a blazing fire of emotions in you.

You had thought your feelings for him had died down, but they were just buried, not completely put out. The love you had for him burned strong, stronger than it had ever been before. Even if you knew that he probably didn’t love you back, even if he had just regarded you as a friend, it still didn’t stop you from feeling this way for him.

You straightened up. Quiet apologies spewed out from your lips, each thanking and apologising to Sigma and Nikolai for being your friends, and how sorry you were that you were leaving them. But you were following your heart.

With one last exhale, you shut your eyes and disappeared. 

Omg I’m so so so sorry that this was so late!!! 😭😭😭 School was giving me a lot of hw ;-; but I’m glad that I was able to finish this. Tbh I’m not that proud on how I wrote this either, and I’m very sorry if I didn’t write it well!

@catzlivedforbsd @ashthemadwriter @i-just-like-goats  @pixyys 

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #slight angst #nikolai x reader #sigma x reader #im so so so sorry that this was late #silverbladexyz

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.180 thoughts

[You're Back! And Your Front - You're Both Here!]

(Contents: Fuuko analysis)

After over a year completely absent from the story, Andy has finally returned!!! Sort of. This one's just a clone, but it's still his consciousness, so we can't go so far as to say he's a fake or anything like that, it just means that he's not back permanently just yet. Sadly, he'll be gone before we know it, probably by the end of next chapter or the following depending on how quickly a "minute" passes

While that is the most exciting part of this week's chapter, though, I have already talked about it in a separate post, and thematically it contributes very little to the chapter as a whole, so it doesn't give me much to chew on right now

But you know who does? Fuuko. Fuuko continues to be one of the best protagonists I've ever read if for no other reason than because she is constantly growing. In fact, this chapter gives us two instances of her immense capacity for growth, one retroactive and one current

First, I want to talk about her surgical skills. Upon seeing Fuuko's proficiency with a scalpel, Rip notes that it took him ten years to get that good, to which Fuuko replies that everyone has their own set of talents - it took her 100 years to get to that level. We know that Fuuko's been kicking around this loop for 200+ years now, but aside from getting in on the ground floor of the fossil fuel economy and flirting with old martial arts masters, we don't really know how Fuuko spent most of her time. This revelation makes it clear that she wasn't just twiddling her thumbs and waiting for everything to fall into place, she was using her time to learn everything she might need to know going forward. She couldn't rely on being lucky enough that someone would know how to perform Leila's surgery aside from Rip, she had to be the one who could do it just in case. It was difficult, obviously, but that didn't matter - she had to do it, and when you have a potentially infinite lifetime, something being a "waste of time" isn't a valid excuse anymore

Compare this to when Fuuko was instructed to write a manga to get close to Anno Un in ch.37 - immediately she tried to get out of it, declaring that there was too big of a gap between reading and writing for her to be able to succeed. It didn't take a ton of convincing to change her mind, obviously, but she still needed to know that Andy was at her back and had the skills necessary to cover for her before she was willing to take even so much as the first step. This time, though, she had nobody. She had to do everything all alone, with no safety nets or guarantees, and she was able to turn those anxieties into the motivation she needed to succeed

It's also interesting that this means that she's taken the same basic path as Andy this time around: when Andy learned he was immortal, he started dabbling in various skills, such as hairdressing and manga authorship. However, whereas Andy was just aimlessly picking up skills to kill the boredom, Fuuko used her time wisely to plan out every eventuality along her 200-year path

I will say it's not exactly fair to say that it took Fuuko ten times as long as Rip to learn how to perform surgery, though - if she took 100 years, she must have started 100+ years ago. How different was medical knowledge and technology between 1800 and 1915? What tools do we have now that they couldn't have had? Society moves as fast as its tech will allow, so obviously someone working with outdated materials is going to learn that much slower, especially if she's trying to learn modern techniques

Not only has Fuuko shown her growth as an individual, though, she's also shown her growth as a leader. In accidentally triggering Unluck on Rip (with the same level of affection as she had for Andy when she first kissed him, I might add!), Fuuko summons a meteor that she knows will destroy the hospital. The last time this sort of accident happened was at the end of the Buroja Conflict in ch.153 when she inadvertently dropped Disc on Nico. At the time, she was paralyzed with guilt and fear, crying from the knowledge that she's not only killed one of her best friends, but possibly everyone who matters to her, and she can't do anything about it. What snapped her out of it was the reassurance from her friends that this was not an inescapable tragedy, but a problem to be solved by everyone working together - all she had to do was give the order

This time, Fuuko still knew that what was coming was terrible and was afraid of the outcome, but instead of wallowing in guilt, she jumped into action, figuring out the best course of action for everyone involved near instantly. Of course, she still didn't have the solution totally figured out, but she was able to create a plan on the fly because she didn't need any reminders that everyone present was strong enough to come together and save the day so long as they have strong enough leadership to unify them

But of course, Tozuka wasn't going to let Fuuko get away with simply minimizing casualities, he was always going to give her a definitive way out that would bolster her courage to the max. With Andy's return, all of Fuuko's anxieties are washed away, and the path to the goal has become clear as day - all she has to do is give the order

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

[cyanide-latte]

Hey friends, mutuals and other fellow writers who are feeling down. Can I level with you for a second? Y'all deserve real and that's what I want to give you here.

Is this going to be an encouragement post? That's the intent. But I don't want it to be the usual affirmation. That's good and it's needed dgmw. But sometimes when you get into a funk about writing you don't want the usual affirmation and encouragement. So I'm going to just give you off-the-cuff and be as real as I can.

Sometimes...writing sucks. Both the act and the final piece. Same is true of any art form, I think: there's just times you'll churn out something that you end up hating or seeing nothing but flaws in what you've made. There's times where just the act of writing is the most awful feeling of an uphill climb, of forcing something that doesn't want to cooperate no matter how much effort you put into it. And there's also going to be time these things overlap or one begets the other.

And that also sucks. In your medium of choice (and yes, writing is an artistic medium, don't bother trying to fight me on that, I don't care how school may have conditioned you to regard it as a mechanical thing, it's art) one of the lowest, most awful and discouraging things is feeling like you're not good enough or skilled enough to hold the implement in your hands and create.

In tandem to that feeling come those thoughts. You know the ones. Every whisper of doubt, of questioning why you're doing this, of asking what the point is, of thinking that even if you make it that there's no point in sharing because someone, somewhere, is going to judge you for daring to put it out there (and more often than not that someone is lurking inside you, in that shadowy, gut-churning lake of self-doubt.)

So, why keep bothering then? What's the point?

I ask myself this semi-frequently. Sometimes there's nothing to spur the questions, sometimes it's a direct reaction to feeling like the few people I really want to read something I wrote just don't care or interact with it. It happens, and I hate it. I cannot stress enough how much I hate that doubt, as well as the worry I'm being childish for wanting interaction.

So why keep writing?

Well, if I've not lost you by now, hopefully what I have to say next won't completely make you scoff and scroll past.

Hope.

Well, hope and a time capsule effect, really.

The thing about hope is we often think of it as a sweet, almost passive and gentle thing, the act of lighting a little candle in a dark room. And hope can be that way; hope and compassion in tandem certainly are evocative of the sweet, kindly image.

But hope is also a very defiant act, and it can be downright aggressive. I don't really like talking about some of the crap I've lived through but here's the skinny on why I'm bringing this up:

Some time ago I found a disc with some very old files on it...including the PDF of all the chapters of a Teen Titans fanfic I was writing when I was 14. I'd started writing fic when I was around 11 or 12, but typically only shared them with a friend from school. At one point I felt bold enough to post a couple fics on FFNet, including that one. Looking over this old PDF, I didn't realize at first that it was mine, my writing was so drastically different to what it's since become. It took a specific couple of moments in the fic as I was reading for me to finally realize "wait, I wrote this!"

And you wanna hear something really wild? It was good! Not at all how I write now, not at all as well-researched as I would be today, but the writing was good, especially when you took into account I was 14 years old and didn't even have regular access to watching the show.

It was also unfinished.

Remember I mentioned a time capsule effect? Where it took me a long time to realize I was reading my own old fic I'd long since taken down, the understanding of why I had removed it and it was unfinished was immediate. Remember that friend I mentioned? Yeah. She was the reason. I'm not going to get into the messy details but suffice it to say that her behavior and treatment of me became abusive at one point and part of the way she kept control of me was to tear down my writing. Constantly. Not even just in online spaces but to my face. Someone who I'd been sharing my stories with for years, so of course I already trusted her judgment. It was a given, no matter how deeply she cut me.

I stopped writing for five years. Every time I tried, that voice of doubt sounded just like her. Dozens of WIPs, of lost ideas, ended up trashed and destroyed. I couldn't write worth shit, so what was the point, you know?

The day I sat down and had a fic idea at 19 years old, I need you to understand I'd not seen that person for a year...and I was still terrified to try and asking what the point even was. Every keystroke, every paragraph of that first chapter, the cutting reminder that I shouldn't even be bothering to try and I couldn't write worth a damn and nobody wanted to read my obviously stupid story anyway was right there, peeking over my shoulder and hissing at me in the dual voice of my own sullenness and her venom.

Writing the first chapter of that fanfic, and then the second, and posting them, I was wracked with anxiety, doubt, self-loathing, a sense of defeat and a deep sense of guilt. Several times I wanted to stop, and almost did.

But like I said, the hope that maybe, maybe, maybe that person and I and that dual voice were all wrong about my writing...that hope was defiant and aggressive. I was working on chapter 3, when I started to think of myself as a bulldog with a steak locked in its jaws that it refused to give up. (I only recently explained this to a friend who started writing and asked me how the heck I could keep at it.) Bulldog visual. Somewhere deep down on some level I couldn't quite tap into in my conscious thought, I did not want to let this steak go.

I posted chapter 3. And a small miracle happened: someone commented. That someone went on to become a dear friend. But it was like floodgates had opened. I gradually got more readers and commenters. Not many, maybe four regular readers total, and not all at once, but across them I started hearing something that, to me at that time, felt like a foreign sentiment. My writing was...good? People thought it was good. They liked it.

Little by little that bulldog gained ground. I kept writing. Not just that fic but I began writing others, and doing more experimental ideas with my writing. Readers came and went but the regulars who stuck around and even some of those who were only around for a while reaffirmed that my writing was good and/or that they enjoyed reading my stories. It still felt strange to hear that, even as much as I tried my best to soak in every compliment and kind word.

If that old Teen Titans unfinished fic PDF is a time capsule of a brighter, more innocent hope that got crushed, when I look at the fic that I started writing at 19 and everything that came after it for a while, I see a different time capsule. A rougher, more defiant hope full of tears and anxiety and doubt and guilt. I look at that fic and several others surrounding it and I'll again be real: I wince at a lot of it. The pacing, some of the plot choices I made, the lack of explanation I gave for some things. It's not a bad fic at all, especially for someone who hadn't written for five solid years and didn't think they could again. Still, I wince all the same because I know more now, I've improved a ton, circumstances have changed and the flaws in all my fics from about ages 19 to 25 are painfully glaring. But that person had hope and was clawing their way back. Little bulldog was gaining ground and not giving up that steak. Heck, not giving up several steaks. A lot of my readership by my mid-to-late 20s had begun to tell me that my writing wasn't just good and entertaining, it had some quality to it they looked forward to, something that even in the shortest and most self-indulgent pieces shone through and hooked them. It didn't just make me happy, it also made many others happy, and many, many of the people who stuck with me since I was 19 (and are still with me now) have talked with me about how much they've watched my writing grow over the years, through everything I've both posted or shared in private. Even the ones I've been reluctant to share or feel are bad.

So, now that I've wrapped up that bit and tucked away the mirror, where does that leave this post?

Usually, when we get in these writing slumps, there's probably external factors, sure. But I think I know pretty well it's that inner voice, the one that can be as ugly as it can sound reasonable, that will really look for a way to justify not wanting to write. Sometimes it's not even a completely cruel or self-harming thought process; often when we find ourselves frustrated or constantly dissatisfied with our work, it's because we're starting a new stage of artistic growth. Something in that artistic part of us is undergoing change, metamorphosis, in our approach to what we make, and if we cannot pinpoint what it is—be it certain techniques, use of devices, or even stylistic approach—it becomes easier to want to give up. Because those pieces we create in the "in-between" stages feel flawed or pointless or wrong somehow, and there is a sense of shame in wanting to share or feel proud of them.

I'm not going to tell you what you should or shouldn't do. What we all need is different from person to person, and I'm not going to force you to parade writing you feel embarrassed about or ashamed by. I'm also not going to sit here and say any empty assurances that it's just doubt and you'll get through it, because I know what it feels like to be so deeply devoured by the sense of wanting to give up. What I am going to do is recommend you keep all those pieces, even if it's just to yourself. They're little time capsules, little facets of you at different periods in time. They're different things you're feeling, experiencing, thinking, all sown into innocuous little fragments of writing. I see and remember aspects of my past selves I'd long forgotten more clearly in a ficlet than I do in some photos my family took. Sometimes they're hidden little gems I learn from, eeeeeven if they occasionally make me wince.

And also yeah. Don't give up the hope that you are improving, that your writing has meaning, that you're connecting with others who enjoy what you make, that your growth is being tracked by people who can see it much clearer than you can and appreciate and encourage it. There is value. Don't give up on seeing that all your writing has value, all of it. Don't give up that hope. But don't think of it as a passive, gentle little thing that flickers here and there in the dark moments.

It's defiance, like that bulldog.

#idk if this will help the friends who inspired me to make the post for 'em but if it helps even 1 person a little then mission accomplished #might blaze this later in the event someone outside my ring of friends and mutuals needs to hear it #writer's life #fic author struggles #creative struggles #support and encouragement #writing #writer's block #LIKE A BULLDOG #GET THAT STEAK MOTHERFUCKER #not sure what else to tag this #Cyanide speaks

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: INFJ. I experienced childhood trauma (verbal, emotional, physical, sexual) and have a lot of difficulty with learning due to issues with concentration and memory. I also have issues with emotional dysregulation and poor sleep. I've received C-PTSD as a diagnosis, with BPD traits (I think something in the ballpark of BPD may run in my family).

During conversations I'm often only really attending to 10-50% of what is said but can usually interpolate due to redundancy. However, during technical lectures or other situations with much lower redundancy, I'm totally lost. I believe this is one factor preventing me from achieving my full potential. In my current state I'm still capable of making a good living and living a comfortable life, but I know there is far more I can achieve.

In the near term I plan to focus on Fe/Ti - emotional intelligence, social skills, and also developing Ti expertise in a specific topic aligned with my Ni vision via the right set of Fe commitments and collaborations - while sidestepping the poor concentration issue for now. I can see that sufficient prior expertise (Ti) on a conversation/lecture topic also helps to compensate for the concentration issues. You gave me similar advice (let Ti do the heavy lifting) a couple years ago.

However, in the long run, if I really want to achieve my full potential, I can see that I'll need to directly address my concentration difficulties and other ways in which I believe trauma has stalled Se development.

Do you have any thoughts on how to restore my ability to be present and learn more effectively? As of now, as part of my general healing process, I'm focusing on building healthy interpersonal relationships (likely just platonic in the near future, in part because I'm not sure if I'm currently capable of having sex), emotional regulation, learning how to drive (which I've avoided due to my poor concentration, but maybe I'll be forced to improve out of necessity), and martial arts.

I may also undergo physical therapy to be able to get a Pap smear done (as of now it's seemingly not possible due to anxiety). I also believe that the memories of the worst trauma are repressed, and am considering psychedelics and EMDR to uncover and process these memories, which perhaps could be necessary to fully heal and address my concentration and memory issues.

I've had very poor experiences with psychiatry and clinical psychology (misdiagnosis, gaslighting, fraud, and shocking levels of incompetence) so am not super eager to engage with that system again, though I'm reading the DBT manual currently and also deriving my own personal principles for emotional regulation and interpersonal effectiveness (the latter I find to be easier, likely due to my Se issues).

I know you're likely going to say that I should consult a mental health professional, but I respect your judgment way more than any of the ones I've worked with. Also, an implicit assumption I'm making here is essentially equating focus/concentration/memory with Se, which may be inaccurate. Finally, I can't thank you enough for this blog. It's been lifechanging, to say the least.

Also, another assumption here is that trauma is the cause of the concentration and memory issues - that's my current hypothesis but I could certainly be wrong. My mom (who I think also has BPD traits) frequently complains about her difficulty concentrating. It's possible she also experienced trauma, or maybe it's genetic. No one has been willing to diagnose me with ADHD due to no evidence of learning issues in childhood. BPD dissociation could ultimately be the best explanation.

---------------------

Poor concentration is a lot like a sore throat, in that it can be a symptom of a great many things. By itself, it doesn't tell you a lot. The underlying cause could be relatively simple like poor physical health, or it could be a psychological issue like C-PTSD, or it could be a very complicated combination of factors working together, each needing their own solution. Let's unpack:

1) Physical Health: Brain functioning is heavily dependent upon physical health. Without a healthy body to support the brain, you won't possess enough energy and will to perform the executive function tasks you need for self-management and self-improvement. You mentioned poor sleep. A well-rested mind is essential for good concentration and quality sleep is essential for efficient memory consolidation.

Your brain is a physical object that requires physical care and maintenance. Without a nutritious diet, quality sleep, adequate exercise and blood flow, and proper stress/illness management, brain operation suffers. Therefore, improving mental health should always begin with improving your physical habits, establishing healthy physical routines, and maintaining work-life balance. Improving physical health also goes a long way to improving emotional regulation.

2) Mental Health: Yes, trauma can interfere with focus and memory operations, but this doesn't mean it's the cause, so I wouldn't be so quick to jump to that conclusion. Focus and memory issues aside, it is generally important to your well-being to be mentally healthy, so you need to address your mental health issues in a timely manner.

You mention three issues: C-PTSD due to a history of abuse, BPD traits, and emotional dysregulation. It's often the case that these three things are interrelated, but it's important to know for sure by getting properly checked out by a mental health professional.

There is a good chance that DBT will be an effective treatment for these three issues because it teaches you how to manage emotions better. But I suggest that you work with a DBT specialist rather than go it alone. The presence of BPD traits makes it likely that you have difficulty being objective about yourself, so going it alone could inadvertently lead you straight into Ti loop if you're not careful (assuming you're not already there). Due to the necessity of Fe development, it is vital that you have an objective person to reflect important truths back to you.

Every profession has its fair share of duds and bad apples. Not everyone graduates with honors, after all. I understand that you've had negative experiences with professionals and I can only reiterate that it's important to keep shopping around until you find the right fit. Being much more specific about the problem/issue you want to address can help you narrow down the search.

3) Learning and Improvement: You are drawn to my blog and its ideas about type development. While lack of presence may be an indication of Se misuse, the solution isn't as simple as developing Se. You're not anywhere near ready to develop the inferior function, and fixating on it is likely to be harmful.

In INFJs, lack of presence isn't directly caused by Se. It's more likely to be related to maladaptive Fe. When INFJs aren't able to handle the intense feelings and emotions that Fe opens them up to, they tend to develop a habit of detaching from the world and retreating into their own self-created world through Ni-Ti loop. Detachment means you separate yourself from reality, and lack of presence is one common symptom of that.

You can't be fully present and learn well when you're not learning for the sake of learning but rather treat learning merely as a means to some other, more unconscious end. When there's a lot happening in the unconscious, especially if you have a long running habit of repressing feelings and emotions, you're being driven by dark forces. If this is true for you, your real potential isn't to be found in learning or "intelligence" but rather in honesty and becoming more self-aware, i.e., facing up to the things that haunt you, which goes back to point #2 about getting proper therapy to address your trauma.

You seem very motivated to improve yourself and your life, which is generally a good thing. However, this motivation should be closely examined in INFJs because they often suffer from perfectionism and use "self-improvement" to feed unhealthy control issues. In other words, their motives can be suspect. You say you're not living up to your "full" potential, e.g., you should be able to focus better, be more present, remember more, perform better, etc, but is this really true? Says who? Who is the one defining this notion of "potential"? What are you really aiming for and why? What does "full" mean, i.e., at what point does it end?

At some point, if you ever hope to be at peace, you have to accept the reality of your limitations and be content in who you are, as is. Are you happy with yourself and who you are? Is your quest for self-improvement motivated by love of yourself, love of life, and love of others? Or is it fueled by ego, illusion, insecurity, guilt, shame, or self-loathing? It is very important to answer these questions honestly. Attempting self-improvement with unconscious intentions can lead to undesirable consequences. It sounds like you're trying to do way too much at once, which is usually a warning sign. Biting off more than you can chew is a very good way to choke.

Your thinking is messy and confused. You've taken the above three points and mashed them together. Despite what you believe about them being related, they are distinct issues that each need proper attention. I've separated them out for you and numbered them in order of importance. Slow down, prioritize the issues in the right order, and take things one SMALL step at a time.

#infj #ti loop #focus #concentration #presence #memory #learning #trauma #mental health #ask