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#What a pesky bird he is!
sysig · 2 years
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Gasp I wanna see your Spamton! Maybe hanging out with some Mr. Saturns playing the ladder game or going birdie fishing or something, hehehe
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Day 5 - Pop-up
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iconsumeheadcanons · 2 years
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why is it everytime grian posts a video i start scolding him. he cant hear me. i see his little minecraft face on a picture title and i just start shaking my head and clicking my tongue. i have full intent to watch the episode w joy, but as soon as i see him im like, "oh god, what is he doing now. gonna give him his red card for this behavior, but i REFUSE to run detention this time." he is a married man who i do not know. but he is in so much trouble i swear to bdubs (god)
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shuaflix · 8 months
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kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity
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❝ 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
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“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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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?”
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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
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.)
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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?”
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“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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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
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AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ if you made it all the way to the end, MUAH! thank you so much for reading !! and thank you to everyone who asked to be on the tag list, i was so floored by the love you guys showed the teaser ♡ first and foremost, i have to shoutout fia for being the reason i changed my magic mike joke to magic mingyu. i would also like to shoutout mingyu for existing because his existence is the reason why this came into fruition. also shoutout to you for reading this because wow!!! you sat through all those words??? i am so honored, really :’) i hope you enjoyed this, thank you for being on this rollercoaster with me, and i hope you look forward to my future works
TAG LIST ▸ @matchahyuck @playboysh-t @jintaema @hoonflrt @desi-brownie @dreaming-on-clouds-blog @xiaoting999 @staygenezy @jwlmnbt @hipsdofangirl @baeseungcheolie @everywonuu @multiplums @shinetogether17 @jeonsrv @chickenstripsonapole @nunchuckd @florcix6​ @stariszn @kissesfrmwonwoo @yikesmary @neejaatjeh @chansdimplesmile @mewiththemess @cookiechristie @mi-seonha @mingy0u @shgyuie @alvanie @watermelon-sugar-things @prodsh00ky​ @itskkung​ @yelsuki​ @cottoncheol​ @hella-sirius​ @spiderlingh​ @fixonbreakoff​ @cupcake416​ @expensive-idiot​ @bambam7​ @seri22 @ixdelv​ @hopefulchick​ @markleeiloveu @svtfix @sunnysorasworld​ @bluest-sky01 @smileywonnie @notevenheretbh1​ @peachyaeger​ @arianna-r13​ @luvv4jiung​ @caticorn61​ @sulkygyu​ @jhornytrash​ @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan​ @amourcheol​ @yogurttea​ @mental-hollows​ @byunfirstlady​ @tis-niki​ @esloao​ @onedumbho3​ @wonudazed​ ​@marklee-czennie @listxn​ @shiveringgaze​ @luvyouchuu​ @taintedsorrowa5158​ @sjjnx​ @cherimbp @jeonquilsposts @suzirumas​ @leclercloverbot​ @ilove-taeyong​ @na-ni @emptypromisesx​ @iwouldbangchan​ @melies-world @breadstickk​ @coupsgal​ @asyre​ @sanniekook​ @mingyusrealwife @yoonzinoooo​ @doyoism @turtash​ @lilsafsafbooyah​ @karlluvr​ @ana-marais98​ @staplerrrr​ @kpopficsworld​ @diorjgguk​ @tojorocks​ @taesdior​ @biteme690 @seomisaho​ @svtcaratlove​ @catloafff @kyeominara​ @delicatewinterenthusiast​ 
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in-the-multiverse · 3 months
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HotGuy is the bravest, sharpest, most handsomest hero in all of Hermit City. That’s what he’d tell you, anyway. Nobody can agree on what HotGuy is. A hero to some, villain to others. There’s a universal agreement he’s a wanna-be show off of some kind. Him and that pesky bird…
Scar is determined to win over the citys’ hearts (and charitable diamonds) so who better to face off against than King Cleo? With his charming smile, trusty bow, and sidekick CuteGuy, nothing can go wrong!
Coming soon to a theater near you /j
(but these are screenshot style pieces for what I imagine an animated hotguy movie would look like. More ramblings about this au below)
[trailer] / 1
King Cleo would IMMEDIATELY put them in their place like a teacher lecturing the entire class on how they’ve been misbehaving. But that’s no fun right away, so why not let them learn their lesson? >:)
HotGuy and CuteGuy are an iconic duo in Hermit City. King Cleo and Entropy (Cub) are another iconic duo. Whether each team is heroic or villainous depends on who you ask. Even the city residents are split on opinions
Except Bdubs. He runs a podcast spilling conspiracy theories and dragging almost every “hero” name into the mud (his attitude is very inspired by J. Jonah Jameson from Spiderman). He believes they’re menaces and should stay out of the city’s local problems because 9/10 they somehow make it worse. He’s very critical of these 4 in particular, and it doesn’t help that they all like to personally mess with him for the fun of it
Far off in the city outskirts, a living folktale hides in the forest. An amalgamation of creatures that make up one giant monster, and coming across their path is…certainly an experience. They speak in poetry and think out loud, peering deep into the soul of their visitor with just a few words. Sightings are few and far in between, but each interaction is memorable- to say the least. Their name is Joe Hills. A very close friend to King Cleo (but nobody else knows that)
And! an explanation to HotGuy’s mobility aid
With the best high-tech, Scar’s wheelchair can reshape into a mechanical griffin with the press of a button. It lets him take to the sky and hotguy targets! Griffins also have conflicting symbolism, which reflects his persona
Good and Evil. Light and Dark. They’re said to be harbingers of chaos. Mischief certainly seems to follow HotGuy wherever he goes. Be wary of his smirk
They’re also said to be gentle protectors. He shows up to help citizens and tiny creatures alike. With a voice so soothing, any trouble they face is wiped off like nothing (or, ends up feeling a little easier to handle)
Griffins are one of the most remarkable creatures in mythology, their stories told and twisted through generations, but how does the griffin tell his own story?
I’ve got a few ideas I wanna draw so I’ll be posting more of this under #hotguy wotk au
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nyyrami · 29 days
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WHEN THEY HAVE A NIGHTMARE . . . synopsis. sleep was meant to be a break from the terrors of the normal day world. but even sleep is not escape for your lover and nightmares plague the crevices of their mind…
tags. satoru gojo x reader, nanami kento x reader, toji fushiguro x reader. angst. hurt/comfort. nightmares. mentions of wounds and battles.death duh.
a/n. i love this trope sm i genuinely don’t know why lol. if you enjoyed a like or reblog would greatly be appreciated ty <3 dk why gojos one is so long, sorry I got carried away with it… this is not proofread so don’t come for me sfter spelling errors this was rotting in my drafts.
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GOJO SATORU was no stranger to nightmares. as much as he would like to say he was unaffected by his battles. he was human at the end of the day and like a human he would suffer trauma from it. it was only when he’d met you and he first slept in the same bed as you that the nightmares ceased. wrapped in your warm, soft arms. it was as if he were being protected by some unknown force and the horrid dreams were driven away. but they were never gone always and some days his mind would recollect what occurred during the day—or even what happened years ago…
‘‘—suguru, stop—wait.’’
satoru runs through the crowd pushing past mindless civilians. they all have the same look on their face. that they have somewhere to be, and that this pesky boy pushing them was dreadfully annoying. he wouldn’t have cared. only that suguru wore the same face as them. he doesn’t know why he ran after his criminal friend. maybe he wanted an answer? or a reason on why he would leave behind everything. leave him, Y/N, shoko. he couldn’t fathom a reason on why he would do such a heinous crime—
‘‘what satoru? what’s done is done, we can’t turn back time and change it. im done trying to.’’
the world fades to black like spilled ink on parchment, his dear friend with it but sugurus purple eyes remain. a stark light in the darkness he can only hope to hold on to. but like sand it slips through his fingers and away and he curses. at himself or suguru? he doesn’t know. only that he wishes he were so much stronger. he knows he will never be.
satoru is somewhere else again. this time a familiar alley. the sun is setting the distance casting a beautiful glow. satoru has grown. he is no longer the boy he was years ago. he’s a man now and he has a family. one he can call his own and cherish and love. but now looking at the person sitting infront of him, he doesn’t feel like a man.
suguru sits on the alley flaw, clutching his now lost arm. blood is everywhere. his robe is torn to shreds leaving his chest bare and exposed but satoru can care less about that now. now he’s focused on his dying friend who he wishes to say a million things to but he doesn’t know where to start.
should he tell him he’s now married? that he’s so happy now? that he misses him? that he wishes he could come back? satoru cant bring himself to say anything.
‘‘…at least curse me a little at the end..’’ his purple eyes are twinkling in the low light and satoru realises he’s never realised how beautiful sugurus eyes were until now. how ironic in that moment he remembers you commenting on them one summer evening. saying how they were prettier than even gojos blue eyes. how they speak a million things in no words. the world slips away and all turns white for a split moment and satoru is suspended in time. he is everywhere and nowhere.
he is seeing all his memories at once rushing past him like birds in flight. he wishes to hold onto the good ones but they escape his reach.
soon he is another place again. this time it is unfamiliar. he sees you. standing in a train station, your back is turned to him but satoru can sense something is wrong. he could sense your problems a mile away no matter how hard you try to hide them. he calls your name and you turn.
slowly but surely you look at him and your eyes widen, arm stretching out to touch him. to feel him. he walks toward you, like a magnet. a bang echoed a throughout the quiet hall and it takes him so long to realise the bang is from you.
it happens so quickly satoru doesn’t even react in time. he stand frozen in his step arms reaching out to touch your saying figure, but the light has gone out in your eyes for some reason and your looking at him but your aren’t.
you fall to the ground with a loud thud and you can’t help but remind satoru of a dead body. he hopes you aren’t one but the hole in the back of your head suggests otherwise. your fingers twitch for a second and satoru holds onto the hope that you may well still be alive but it dies with you too.
he cries out, screaming your name to no avail. shaking your shoulders in an attempt to wake you up from your sleep. ‘‘—‘toru.’’ satoru is blinded by grief, his blindfold off and his blue eyes out he takes in the world with hyper awareness but it does nothing but reaffirm that your—
‘‘satoru—’’
satoru is shooting up. the covers of his bed falling to his waist revealing his bare chest to the cold but he couldn’t care less. his body is trembling and for the first time in what seems to be forever, he’s scared—
‘‘satoru, darling—its okay, I’m here.’’ yes you are. you are untouched snd unhurt. satorus six eyes confirms but the lingering feeling of believing you were dead haunts him. your arms are around him in seconds, his head now laying on your chest.
for the next few minutes, for the first in time in what seems to be forever, satoru cries. his arms wrapping around your waist he digs his head deeper into your chest, his grip turning hard but you couldn’t care less. your attention was on your husband.
for a few minutes you sit there. satoru relying on your heartbeat to keep him calm, he slowly regains his composure but the dull tremble in his limbs is still there and no matter how much he tries to breathe in and out it remains. you rub soothing circles into his back and he looks up at you from where he lays, you finally see the whites of his eyeballs have gone red from crying and the blue seems to be shining even more than usual.
‘‘’toru. wanna talk about it?’’ he shakes his head. later. you would speak about it later when he was more comfortable but now he would rest. after what happened it seems the energy has finally left his body and he yawns. despite what had just happened you can’t help but find your lover cute. sliding back under the covers, he once again wraps his arms around you. this time entangling his legs with yours. his feet are dreadfully cold. ‘‘i love you, satoru.’’ you whisper into his hair. you can practically feel his smile through your shirt.
‘‘’m love you too.’’
NANAMI KENTO was a busy man. during his time as a normal working person he didn’t encounter things he would say were, traumatising. it was only when he returned to the jujutsu world that the nightmares returned. the last time he’d ever had them were following the death of his friend, haibara.
nanami walked through the streets of Tokyo. eyes roaming the many people and shops. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. everyone was on their way either to work, school or some place else. it was the perfect day. the sun was out and the cloud was littered with bright white clouds.
summer had always been the best season in his opinion. not for the great feeling it brought or even the great weather. but the fact that it reminded him of his long gone friend. haibara. he’d died back in his jujutsu days. hat’s why when nanami stopped in the middle of a bustling crowd, eyes hooking on a familiar figure, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
haibara stood a few feet away from him. in his usual jujutsu uniform he wore all those years ago. he looks unchanged. still the young boy at school. unawares of his fate. nanami swallows the lump in his throat away and he wants to say something.
say what exactly? he thinks, say that he was sorry? for not saving him? for not finding some way to save him? for not being strong enough? he knows what happened wasn’t his fault in the slightest but survivors guilt stands strong.
haibara speaks and his voice is surprisingly the same. the passage of time brighter dulling it not evolving it with growth. it’s a haunting reminder that in-fact he is dead. he always will be.
‘‘…why didn’t you save me, nanami?' you could’ve. you should’ve.'’ yes he should’ve. no, he couldn’t. but the guilt is a never ending well and nanami has fallen down it once again and he can’t find his way out. he runs to his friend but he can’t be stopped. he falls like water to the ground and the scene switches.
this time nanami is standing infront of haibaras body. or what’s left of it at least. his friend is cut in half, a thin trail of blood leaking out of his mouth and sliding down his chin. in another world he would’ve scolded him for his mess. in another world it would’ve been drool, but the bright red is obviously blood.
the pain is a dull throb this time. he has felt this pain already before, the feeling is nothing new.
the body changes and to his shock, it becomes you. your staring at the sky, eyes dull and unresponsive. you looked beautiful. with the way your hair spilled around your shoulders like pools or maybe it’s the slight upturn of your lips that hint a smile is coming.
what were you laughing about? he wouldn’t ever know. maybe that’s why he’s calling your same, begging for an answer. begging you not to leave him like haibara. he can’t afford to lose you too. the one who’s laid claim on his once broken heart. sown together the broken fabrics of his heart. with you he felt complete. the only person since haibara who ever elicited the feeling out of him. nanami opens his eyes and he is no longer looking at your dead body.
instead he is on his bed, in his home. throwing the covers off his sweating skin, he sits on the side. head in his hands in order to calm his breathing.
minutes pass before he hears the rustling of the duvet and your warm arms wrap around him from behind. he can tell you’d just woken up from your sluggish movements
‘‘—kento.’’
you take in his slightly trembling form and all sleep leaves you. you proceed to sit next to him quiet but a reassuring figure. you don’t ask him what caused him such distress but you can guess by the way his hands hover above the scars he gained all those years ago.
nanami finally relaxes. his heart calming, he lens into your touch. featherlight and soft. it doesn’t take him long before he’s in your arms, lying on your chest and sleeping once more.
TOJI FUSHIGURO had a hard job. one many would definitely die on but he was different. and as cliché as it sounded, he was built different. for all those years he lived with the zeni’in clan he acquired a cold heart of stone.
a defense mechanism to stop himself from getting hurt. that was until he met you of course. it seemed for the first time in his life he wasn’t living on his feet all the time. he relaxed in your presence. laughed and even cracked jokes.
he didn’t know how much of a lover man he was before he met you. he thought he wasn’t capable of such love. how you turned his life around, he didnt know.
hed just come back from a mission one he’d gained a few injuries in but nothing bad. you still fretted over him. making a hassle when you saw his blood soaked shirt. he wouldn’t deny it, he did love you hassling him about his safety, it was quite endearing. you’d went to sleep not long after, toji following suite.
toji stood in a familiar house of tradition Japanese architecture. everything screamed, money, wealth and power. something the zen’in clan prided themselves on. power brought you more money and wealth in the jujutsu world, toji was no stranger to it. ‘‘—you don’t even have any cursed energy, you mistake.''
toji had not seen the members of his clan in years. their faces now blurred in his memory’s so much he believed he had gotten over what they did to him, but now their voices always made little toji stiff backed and immediately sweating.
the man behind him had white hair and a pointed moustache but his face was a blur of colour. it seemed he’d forgotten what exactly they looked like but their voices were as clear as the day.
the harsh slap through toji off his feet and to the ground with a loud thud. a few specks off blood flying out of his now bruised lip. he’d also apparently forgotten that they beat him on the regular. ‘‘—you stupid monkey. look how weak you are—cant even fight back.’’ the man’s harsh words were followed with a brutal assault of kicks. toji cursed himself, he’d never be strong enough to fight back against these demons of the zen’in clan, no matter what he did so he took the abuse. the man kicked for what felt like hours, only stopping when he was breathless and toji was bruised all over.
‘‘you should’ve died in the womb.’’
he should’ve, he thought. he should’ve died as an infant rather than face the shame of having no cursed energy. he’d never amount to anything in there eyes other than a filthy monkey. suddenly, the man became enraged. he yanked toji up by the collar of his robe, bringing him close to his blur of a face.
‘‘your no son of mine—’’
the world faded to black and toji opened his eyes to a quiet room. he wasn’t in the zen’in estate. he wasn’t in the—
he shot up. arm reaching for the knife he kept in a daw on the bedside table. unbeknownst to him, the movement stirred you from your sleep. you awoke, groggy eyed and confused, the space where toji was once sleeping was empt, him now standing by the balcony of your apartment.
‘‘toji, what happened—’’
your words cut off when you saw the glint of something sharp in his hand. a knife. he was holding a weapons, but why— had someone come? questions flew around your brain score your eyes caught the glint of clear liquid on his cheek. you pieced two and two together and came to the conclusion he’d woken from a bad dream.
sliding out of bed. you walked up to toji, making sure not to startle the tensed man before you laid a warm hand on the expanse of his back. toji still didn’t turn, his face dutifully turned away from you. to hide what you already knew, you guessed.
trailing your hand down his arm, you hovered over his rock hard grip on the handle of the knife. coaxing him to let the weapon go. it didn’t take long before the muscles relaxed and he allowed you to take it away.
you didn’t speak for a few minutes before toji turned to fully face you. dried streaks of tears on his cheeks. he wasted no time in gathering you in his arms. his head hiding in the crook of your neck. you rubbed soothing circles into his bare back and before long you guided him back to bed whispering sweet nothing into his mop of dark hair.
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redwinterroses · 8 months
Text
It's not like it's hard to get Tango taking about Decked Out, but buy him a couple of potions in the museum speakeasy and he gets downright confessional.
Grian leans across the stat poker table, his wings rustling eagerly. "Truth or dare, Tango," he says. "Is Decked Out... alive?"
“Aren’t I supposed to pick truth or dare before you ask the question?” Tango tosses back another potion and gives the group a half-smirk.
“We all know you’re going to pick truth because you’re too particled to get up.” Etho’s face is obscured, but they can hear the laugh in his voice and see his fox ears twitch with amusement. “So spill.”
Tango shrugs. "Well," he says, "It's not exactly not NOT alive, if you know what I mean."
Grian glances at Doc on his right and Etho on his left. They shrug at him.
"Yeah, no," he says, looking back at Tango. "I don't think we know what that means."
"Is it like that Grumbot robot that Mumbo and Grian built?" Doc asks, scratching thoughtfully at his chin, his blunt black claws scritching loudly against the stubble of his beard. Grian tries to catch a peek at his stat tokens and gives a sheepish grin when Doc notices and quickly angles them away.
"Hey, now," Doc starts to say, but Tango interrupts.
"Nah, no -- I mean, Grumbot was pretty... Simple. No offense."
"None taken." Grian pulls a token from his stack. "Number of villagers traded with," he offers. "And I'll up the ante to three diamond blocks, gentlemen."
Tango lays down his own token, and taps a finger on it in an aimless rhythm. “The dungeon is… aware,” he says. “Not alive, I guess, but it knows things. It recognizes people.”
“I’ve noticed,” Etho says dryly. “That place hates me.”
They all laugh, but Tango shakes his head. “Does it hate you?” he asks and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Or does it want to impress you?”
“Oh, I’m impressed enough.” Etho drops his stat token on the table with a soft click. “So it can stop glitching and trying to kill me now.”
“Aww, you’re just playing hard to get.”
Doc lays his tokens down on the table and stands. “I will sit out this round, I think,” he says. “I have done almost nothing with villagers this season. Will anyone have more to drink?”
“I’m not playing hard to get!” Etho protested, ears lying flat. “If anything, I’m playing easy to get – I just walk right in there!”
“You heard it first here, folks,” Tango says. “Etho’s easy.”
He ducks, but not in time to dodge the rolled-up napkin Etho chucks at his face. It lands in his hair and goes up in a miniature whump of flame.
Grian snickers, waving away smoke.
“So if the dungeon’s not alive, but it’s not quite not alive,” he says. “How does one maybe go about… making friends with it?”
“That,” Doc says, thunking a fresh bottle of Cub’s custom-mixed potion onto the table. “Is cheating, you pesky bird. No flirting with the possibly-not-not-alive dungeon.”
“You’re telling me you’re above flirting for a few extra keys and crowns, Doc?” Tango asks with teasing skepticism.
Doc sniffs, flipping the cork from his bottle with his thumb. “I don’t need flirting,” he says dismissively. “I have skills. Game strategies, man.”
“He’s already planning how to get the dungeon’s attention.” Etho flips his token over, exposing the total. “Aren’t’cha, Doc.”
Doc tips back his drink and shrugged. “Eh… that is for me to know, and you to worry about.” He winks.
“Tango, what’s your total there?” Grian fiddles with his token.
“Well, I know it’s higher than old three-digit Minecraft master over here.” Tango holds up his token and pinches it between his fingers. “Under three hundred, Etho? What’ve you been doing all season?”
“Not hiding out in a hole for thirteen months,” Etho grumbles good-naturedly, pushing his diamonds into the center of the table.
“Yeah, well, that’s what I have been doing and look at that stat.” Tango displays the count. “Seven k, baby – read ‘em and weep.”
Grian makes an exaggerated sad face that immediately morphs into a triumphant grin. “Rookie numbers, fellas,” he crows. “Try over twelve thousand.”
Tango groans and rolls his diamonds toward Grian with a grimace. “Yeah,” he says. “Definitely not telling you how to flimflam my dungeon, you shyster.”
“Tango, I’m hurt.” Grian, entirely unbothered and very un-hurt looking, scoops the pile of diamonds into his pouch. “My stats are all ethically earned.”
“And that’s how your dungeon runs will be too.” Tango stashes his tokens and stands. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. Mostly.”
“Back to your cave, Tango?” Etho doesn’t stand, but his bushy white tail wags a little in barely-contained excitement. “So, Decked Out will be open again… soon?”
“You bet your foxy good looks,” Tango says. “Or… maybe don’t. Not with those stats.”
This time he does duck the thrown napkin.
He exits through the museum, the laughter of his friends fading behind him as he steps out into the cool afternoon air. For a moment, he stretches, shaking out his elytra and clearing his head a bit of the potion particles.
Is Decked Out alive?
Tango grins, sharp teeth glinting. Of course the dungeon’s alive, who’s he kidding? And she’s hungry, too, he can feel it even from here. His friends should just be grateful he’s only ever built friendly monsters that want to devour them.
“On my way,” he mutters to himself. Or the dungeon. “And Etho’ll be coming over soon too.”
He feels the dungeon’s excitement.
“Oh…you’ve gotta be kidding me.” Tango launches himself in the air and spirals over the shopping district, angling toward Decked Out and laughing so loudly the sound bounces off the buildings below.
His dungeon totally has a crush on Etho.
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inherdaze · 2 months
Text
jungle — kiyoomi sakusa
kiyoomi x f reader
18+ content, pining, slow burn, sakusa wears dog tags mmm, smut, acquaintances to lovers. kind of a historical au? (think 1930s) idk bro it's like all made up. mentions of pregnancy
9k
summary: kiyoomi seeks serenity after coming home from war.
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There’s lots of commotion outside. Hollering, cheering, squeals and shouts paired with the sight of lovers reuniting, families coming together, men picking up their children and spinning them around in the air. You watch from the kitchen window as you wipe down the dishes, see some people carelessly pick the flowers from your yard to bunch up and give to wives, children, husbands, the like. Normally, you’d scold them for being so careless and probably offer a pair of garden trimmers so that they wouldn't crush the surrounding flowers, but you let it pass. Everyone is happy. The war is over. 
Your mother watches as she stands next to you, handing you over the dishes to dry once she’s finished washing them clean. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gouging out your reaction before clearing her throat. 
“Do you remember Kiyoomi?”
 You freeze for a second, plate and rag in hand as you try to think. “Mm. No?”
“The Sakusa family?”
“Oh,” And then you start again, rubbing the plate dry. You don’t really remember the boy, only that your mother was friends with his mother and that apparently the two of you played around as young children. You don't remember the last time you saw him. Probably couldn’t even point him out in a crowd.
“He’s coming home.”
“From the war?”
 “Yes.” 
“Would you like me to gather some flowers for him? There’s plenty in the backyard, too. None of the crushed ones.” 
She sighs before placing the plate she held back into the sink, turning to face you entirely. 
She says your name softly. “He’s coming home. Here.” 
“Why? For dinner?”
“No– well, yes– but he’ll be staying here. With us.”
You slowly put out the plate face down on the long countertop cloth to let it air dry. “Since when?”
“We’ve been exchanging letters.”
Ah. You had been wondering what that was about. Each time the mail came in, your mother would scurry to get it before you could, holding it to her chest protectively before gently slicing it open in the study, purposely keeping it from you. You thought she had been exchanging letters with some sort of admirer, so to speak. You thought she’d be afraid to tell you she’s moving on after years of your father’s death. 
She continues, “His parents passed a while back– they both fell ill while he was away. He just needs somewhere to stay in the meantime so he can get back up on his feet. I'm sure there are plenty of other families that would be more than happy to host a soldier, but I suppose he would feel more comfortable here. I mentioned the garden and the chickens and he said he’d help you out with those. Don’t let him, though.”
“Huh? Why not?”
Your mother lightly swats your arm and gives a quiet scold of your name, “He isn't here to work. He’s here to rest. He’s been through a lot, you know. Just let him be while he’s here.”
You roll your eyes. Your mother can tell that you're not really annoyed. 
“He seems very reserved in the letters we exchanged. If he’s formal with you, insist that he don’t be. We are friends of his. Make him feel comfortable, okay?” 
You hum and nod. “Okay.”
There’s a pause.
“When will he be here?”
Your mother nearly answers before you've even finished asking.
“Tomorrow.”
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You’re an early bird. Even when you don’t want to be, you must. You have to tend to the chickens in the morning, tidy up and make breakfast for your mother before she goes out to the market to sell the eggs. 
The morning dew that sits atop the grass kisses at your shins as you trudge towards the coop, face lit by the oncoming sunrise. The sky shifts from deep blue to a lighter blue to purples and pinks until the sun finally reaches the top of the sky. 
As you get closer to the coop, you hear the familiar and pesky repetitive clucks, appreciative that the coop is farther out into the yard and not by your window.
You slide the coop door open, stepping to the side as they rush out with curiosity.
“Mornin’ kids,” You start before emptying out their dirty water, tossing it into the grass before turning on the hose to fill up the bin.
You replace the water, give them more food, collect the eggs that are deemed ready, and hang out with them for a good thirty minutes to make sure they’re healthy and roaming around like normal. You sit on the grass, knees to your chest as you absentmindedly say hi to them when they pass by or stare at you.
Once the sun has almost fully risen, you grab the basket of eggs and make your way back into the house, slipping out of your boots before stepping inside.
The morning goes as always; Your mother wakes up, thanks you for handling the chickens, thanks you as you place her breakfast on the table, gathers all the eggs she needs to sell, and kisses your cheek before she heads out to the market. 
“Kiyoomi should be here later, once I’m already home. Please make sure the spare bedroom is clean, with fresh sheets. If he happens to arrive early, be nice.” 
“God, don’t act like I’m insufferable! I won’t drive him out.”
She smiles knowingly. “I know, my dear.” 
She looks like she wants to say more, but swiftly turns on her heel and takes her leave.
The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the spare bedroom to make sure it’s nice and welcoming for when your new guest arrives. You smooth out all the bed linen and wipe down the dressers, making all photo frames and little trinkets look presentable. It doesn't take long for you to set it all up– the bedroom has always been very empty. You wonder how it'll look like when it’s more lived-in, with boots and coats and whatever else he may carry laying around. 
You slip into the kitchen and wash your hands, preparing to make lunch. With the curtains on the kitchen window drawn shut, you fail to see the man that climbs up your porch steps, eyes downcast as he raps his knuckles on the door a few times. 
You freeze in your spot almost violently. It’s much too early for him to be here, and when you glance at the clock on the wall, you’re convinced that it has to be someone else– perhaps the neighbor? 
Drying your hands on the apron tied to your dress, you draw back the kitchen curtain to get a little peep.
You almost squeal as you back away from the window, covering your face with your hands like you’ve just seen something you weren't supposed to– but you had just seen him. He was… big. That’s all you could think.
When you open the front door, the two of you stare at each other, silent. 
Yes, he’s big. Broad shoulders, gifted with height, and his chest seems…. inviting in the military uniform he wears. You finally make eye contact with him, scanning over his handsome features, the two little beauty marks that rest atop his eyebrow, the pretty curve of his lips—
“Hello,” He says with an air of formality, and you clutch at the skirt of your dress.
“Hi… hi.”
He stares at you blankly.
“I, ah— come in, Kiyoomi,” You start, standing to the side as he takes off his boots and leaves them by the door, following diligently as you lead him to his room. He doesn’t even spare a glance to look around the house, eyes trained on your back. 
“Here,” You say, opening the door to his room. “The bathroom is down the hall, my room is right there– right across, and my mother’s room is the farthest one down the hallway. There’s a, um, study if you'd ever like to read or spend some time in there. Do as you like,” You explain gently, a warm smile on your features. “I was just making lunch. Are you hungry? Would you like some?”
“No thank you,” He says immediately, looking down at you. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 
“Of course! My mother should be here in a few hours. For now, the house is all yours– er, ours, but– well, yeah, yours…” You trail off with embarrassment, looking into his eyes for help, hoping he’ll finish your sentence or laugh it off with you. 
He doesn't. 
As soon as you back away and start walking back to the kitchen, he shuts the door softly and coupes himself up in there. 
You frown to yourself, remembering your mother’s words. He seems very reserved, let him be, he’s been through a lot.
You do just that, careful to not make any noise as you prepare lunch, then sit by yourself at the table to eat. There’s a light clink and clatter of the dishes as you wash them, but you can only hope he doesn’t mind. 
Noon turns into night and you’re still alone. You haven’t heard Kiyoomi leave the room or rummage around at all. It’s like he never even arrived. 
You’re not surprised when your mother comes home and deems the house empty (besides you being there) and exclaims that the both of you must rush and start working on dinner because Kiyoomi deserves nothing but the best. You feel your skin prickle hot for some reason. She wasn’t wrong, but if Kiyoomi had heard her say it, it sounded like she was one of those old ladies who desperately fawn over younger men. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.
You laughed nervously and bumped her hip with yours, quietly telling her that he had already arrived. 
She gasps dramatically, hand flying to her heart as she scolds you. 
“Why didn’t you invite him out here to sit with you? Has he eaten lunch? Did you offer him lunch? Goodness, my dear, this is no way to host someone. Ask him to step out! Did you show him around the house, at least? Oh, heavens– did you change the sheets?”
Your ears feel terrifyingly warm, knowing very well that your mother was loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear her through closed doors. Just thinking of him overhearing you get scolded made you want to scuffle away and complain in embarrassment to the chickens. 
“My apologies, miss.”
The both of you whirl around to see Kiyoomi, who looks absolutely delightful, you think. 
His curls are mussed as if he had been sleeping, uniform ditched for a skimpy white undershirt tucked into some slacks, the planes of his chest peeking out and greeting you handsomely. The dog tags that are strung along the chain around his neck glint in the kitchen light, almost like they’re saying Hi. “It’s not her fault, I assure you– I had turned down her offer for lunch, and I just wanted some time to myself after arriving. No hard feelings at all.”
He speaks in such a collected and calm manner, and his face and eyes look empty. He’s good at containing all his emotions. 
“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, a wistful smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, my lovely Kiyoomi!” She rushes towards him and cups his face, smushing his cheeks in her hands, beaming up at him. The action makes his eyes widen, hands immediately flying up to push hers away, but he stops himself just in time and lets them fall back to his sides. 
“How you’ve grown! My goodness, it’s been ages, my love, please– please sit down, we’ll make some soup, okay? Just rest. Tell us, how have you been? Any good stories?”
She greets him like a mother would, and for a second, you think you see his features relax. Not wanting to get caught ogling at him, you turn and face the cutting board, lining up all the vegetables needed for the soup. 
The two talk the entire time, your mother silently leaving the task of cooking up to you. You don’t mind at all, keeping your back to the both of them to hide the look of shyness on your face. Every time Kiyoomi speaks, you feel your hands stutter. 
The conversation is mostly your mother gushing over him and how much he’s grown, telling him he’s such a handsome young man, asking him how his trip over here went, and then she asks him if there is a woman in his life. You know that it would be normal for him to feel a little flabbergasted from such a question, but you don’t know why you feel so embarrassed as well. 
You figure it’s because if he says he does have a special someone in his life, your mother would turn around and berate you (in front of him) for not being ‘out there’ enough and for not seeing someone already. 
To your surprise, he weakly mentions that no, he doesn’t have anyone like that in his life. He quickly excuses it by saying that he had been too busy during the war to worry about such things. 
Your mother laughs good-naturedly, flailing her hand around, “Oh, of course. Silly me!”
By the time your mother opens her mouth to tell him that there are plenty of riveting people around town that he may like, you announce with your back still facing them, “Soup’s ready.” 
You serve your mother and Kiyoomi, keeping your head down as you approach him and place his bowl on the table. He thanks you in a quiet, rumbly voice that makes you go completely still for a split second. 
Conversation dies down as the three of you eat. Your mother has pulled out as much as she can from Kiyoomi. He avoided a lot of questions about the war, about his experiences, about what he saw. You can’t help but wonder. 
Your mother interrupts the silence as she subtly turns to face you. 
“How are the vegetables doing?”
“Growing,” Is all you respond as you stuff another spoonful of soup into your mouth. She’s grasping at straws to not let the atmosphere turn awkward. 
You figure that if Kiyoomi is going to be staying here, may as well be casual, treat him like anyone else (despite the fact that he looks like he came down straight from Heaven). 
You shift in your chair, the wood creaking. “Tomorrow, could you buy some more flower seeds from the market? You can pick which. I need to fill in the spaces that were crushed yesterday from all the people.” 
Her eyes light up, “Of course, dearie. Thank you for reminding me.” 
The two of you talk about mundane things for the rest of dinner, topics you usually discuss. Kiyoomi finds it comforting. Makes him feel more at home. 
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The next morning, you rise before the sun kisses the sky, as always.
You pull on the short linen clothing you use for working, old stains of mud and grass forever tainting the articles. As quietly as you can, you pad around the house before reaching the back porch, tugging on your work boots before stepping into the fresh morning grass. 
Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi is also an early riser, a habit that he has cultivated over years of training. He watches you from the backyard’s dutch door, the top half open. He rests his elbows on the bottom half and leans forward, watching and listening as you greet and coo at the chickens like they’re your children. His eyebrows twitch up when he hears you reprimand one– Stop putting grass in the water, Harold! 
After you dump out the water, you pick up the water bucket and take it over to the pump, working the water into it. With your back turned to Kiyoomi, you don’t hear as he steps through the grass towards you. 
“Good morning,” He greets politely, and you yelp.
Whirling around with the half-full bucket in hand, the water flies out and crashes right into him, soaking his torso and the entirety of his pants. 
You drop the bucket.
“Oh my gosh– oh, Kiyoomi— I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, oh my goodness– I didn’t– I’m so sorry—”
You're petting his torso worriedly, as if your hands will soak up all the water that has been spilled. He knows you have good intentions and are just trying to help somehow get the water to dry, but your touch makes him stiffen.
You’re repeating that you're sorry, and the more that you ramble on, the more he can hear the tremor in your voice as you squeak and swallow and try to push this upcoming embarrassment down. Kiyoomi lifts his hands and places them right on your arms, completely stilling you. “It's fine.” 
It comes out clipped, like it's not really fine, but you can’t tell if he's annoyed. His face remains stoic. 
“I’m so sorry,” You whisper.
“It's okay. You weren't aware that I was here. I understand.” 
You look over him again, the bottom half of his cotton shirt soaked and his pants clinging onto his legs like paint. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed that you can't even find it in yourself to admire him. 
“You’ll– you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside,” You plead, stepping away from his touch and gathering your skirt in your hands to run back into the house, hastily kicking off your boots before prying the bottom half of the door open.
He watches you scurry around the house to make him some tea, pouring water into the kettle and sorrowfully letting him know it’s gonna take a few minutes. You advise that he changes but don’t push it on him too much, not wanting to be over controlling.
He disappears into the room and shuts the door, and you plop onto the dining table chair. Resting your head in your hands, you mentally chastise yourself for messing up like this, and on the first day that he's been here, too. 
The kettle whistles. You pick yourself up to see Kiyoomi already looking at you, in a pair of clean clothes. Embarrassment crawls up your spine. 
“I’m sorry.” You say again, turning to silence the kettle and pour the water into a mug before adding a few loose tea leaves. 
“I’ve already forgiven you.” 
“I know, I know but– I’m really sorry.”
He only sighs. You take that as a sign he’s frustrated. 
“I’m stepping back outside,” You say, “Still have to get stuff done.” 
He nods stiffly. You walk with your tail between your legs to the backyard porch, putting on your boots and this time shutting both halves of the dutch door.
You confide and whine to the chickens as you clean up and spread out their food.
Despite the incident, Kiyoomi insists that he help you out in the mornings. He follows you out to the back porch and manages to slip past the threshold before you can shut the bottom half of the dutch door to trap him inside (he can always just open the door and walk by, but you tell him it’s the prospect of trapping him inside that matters the most. His eyebrow twitches at that). 
He lingers as you talk to the chickens, which you do quietly now that you know that he’s there. He pretends to look away when you tell Harold good morning. 
When you finish saying your greetings to the birds, you tell him to go back inside. This is your job only and he should take this time to rest or get some extra hours of sleep– but he insists. He tells you he can’t sleep for any longer, he’s spent years rising early and getting straight to work and if he were to lay in bed he’d just lay restless. 
You know your mother will scold you later, but you offer him some work to do anyway. You tell him to replace the water while you give them fresh food. And he does so gladly, falling into a rhythm with you that, if a stranger looked at the scene, would convince them that he belongs here and always has. 
There’s this sort of look of serenity on his face, like he’s content to be doing something rather than staying in the house (which is what your mother has been pressuring him to do). 
The rising sun kisses his face, reminding you of his beauty. His skin practically glows and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on the moles on his forehead. 
In this kind of lighting, you see faded scars on his hands and arms, earned from hardwork and fighting and war and other things you cannot even imagine. They make him seem gruff (more than he already is) and in a way, scary. But the way he handles the chickens and the land and the water with such a tender touch tells you otherwise. For a brief second, you wonder if he would hold you with such care as well. You shoo the thought away. 
Kiyoomi stays with you while you watch over the chickens. He stands while you sit on the grass.
“Talk to them,” You encourage. 
He lifts an eyebrow. “And what should I say?”
“Ask them how they are.” 
Kiyoomi clears his throat and looks at one of the chickens, “My… My dear Harold,” He starts, “I hope you are in good health.” 
You laugh, “So formal, Sakusa.”
He finds himself humming. Humming. Humming in amusement.
When you're done with the chickens, you tell him he can go back inside and relax while you check up on all the vegetables, but he tells you he wants to help with that too.
You untie your apron and start checking on and picking the ripe vegetables, bundling them in the cloth. Kiyoomi, truthfully, seems a little lost as he handles pulling out the vegetables and leafy greens with a sort of hesitance as if he’s afraid to hurt them. You scoot over closer to him and offer some help. 
“They won’t cry in agony, Kiyoomi.” 
“I–” He starts, embarrassed. “You mistake me.” 
“How so?”
He doesn’t answer, runs out of excuses. Suddenly Kiyoomi thinks the sun feels warmer when your hands brush over his own to guide him, encouraging him to pluck at the vegetables. He gets the hang of it, bundling up all the produce in your apron before the two of you make your way back inside. 
When your mother sees the both of you step in, kicking off your boots and hands stained with dirt, she tsks at you. 
“I specifically told you not to ask for any help.” 
Embarrassment blooms in the depths of your chest. Getting scolded in front of Kiyoomi will be the death of you. You want to defend yourself but you don’t want to throw him under the bus, either. You hold the bundle of vegetables and greens closer to your chest, almost protectively. 
“She did no such thing,” Kiyoomi interjects before your mother can continue. He stands tall, seems bigger, voice collected but strong enough to cause the both of you to jump. It’s been ages since you and your mother have been in the presence of someone as powerful as Kiyoomi. 
He visibly slackens, clears his throat. “She didn’t ask for my help– told me to go inside, actually. I took it upon myself to help her.” 
“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, tone suddenly sweet and forgiving. “I see.” 
The silence that rests between the three of you could pierce your ears. You skitter into the kitchen to wash all that you’ve collected and leave your mom and Kiyoomi alone. In a matter of seconds, she’s already cooing at him and telling him that there’s no need for him to be working, it’s fine if he wants to rest inside, there’s plenty of time for him to spend his days off. He’s silent in response. 
After you make breakfast and your mother leaves for the market, you gather all the dishes and make a beeline for the sink, pouring hot water over the dishes to scrub them clean. 
Kiyoomi follows up behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, bunching it up right above his elbows. You watch as he leans forward to grab a washcloth, swallowing when you see his dog tags swing low as he dips down. They clink back onto his chest when he stands upright. 
“Thank you,” He says suddenly, eyes focused on the plate in his hands as he wipes it in a circular motion. 
“What for? I should be the one thanking you, Kiyoomi. You defended me in front of my mother.” 
He takes a second to formulate what he wants to say. “I must thank you for letting me work with you. I know your mother has good intentions, and I appreciate that she insists I rest.” 
You tilt your head up at him, silently asking if he will continue. 
Kiyoomi, unbeknownst to you, is facing an internal battle with himself. Years of being in war and surrounded by men who believe vulnerability is weakness often leaves him staying quiet in moments where he wishes to speak. He mulls over what he wants to say again, wondering if you’d laugh him off and tell him to not be silly. But he knows that you sense something is up, your eyes taking on a glimmer of understanding and kindness before you look down at your plate. “I won’t force it out of you, Kiyoomi.” 
He looks at you affectionately, but you miss it as you stack the plate on the counter. 
“Well, since you’re practically pleading me to share my thoughts, I’ll tell you.” 
That makes you laugh. You laugh a gentle little laugh, and Kiyoomi has to turn back and face the dishes so that he doesn’t lose his thoughts. 
“Your mother, I… I know she means no harm. I know that she may believe that I need rest and time and some sort of recuperation period. I don’t mean to be rude, but she… it feels as if she is doing worse than good, for me.” 
You nearly freeze on the spot, worried about what he’ll say next. You’re scared that you and your mother have ruined his whole stay. 
Kiyoomi breathes out your name, “I assure you that I am not a wounded dog that must be left alone to rest and sleep the pain away. I want to live a normal life, now. I’ve faced enough estrangement in the war. Please, allow me to work and live with you just as anyone else would.” 
It’s a simple, simple request. A simple request that would have anyone cheering and clapping and showing him to the damaged flowers in the front yard and putting him right to work. It’s a simple request that makes your heart clench and twist in the caverns of your chest, knowing that he wants to live a life of normality and serenity. Knowing that he has opened up to you about being shunned away. It makes you feel trusted, and in a way, sought out. 
You’re silent for a beat too long and Kiyoomi looks like he wants to scrub away all the words he just said with the way he resumes at washing his plate. As you set another one to dry, you tell him calmly, to prevent the feeling of pity arising in the air, “Of course, Kiyoomi.” 
The corners of his lips twitch up when you tell him the bushes out front need to be trimmed. 
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You tell your mother of Kiyoomi’s request that same night, and she scoffs and frowns and throws a little fit before she caves. She initially insists that you only give him light work, but eats up her words at the glower you throw her way. 
He helps you trim the bushes, the weeds, helps you with the vegetables and the chickens and watches eagerly as you prepare food so that he can take on that task later on. 
You stir the soup around in the pot, sprinkling in some herbs and seasonings to add some more flavor. He asks you how much you use, you tell him you just know in your heart when to stop. When the kitchen falls quiet, you pick on him and teasingly ask, And how should you cook? And he answers, suppressing a laugh and an eye roll, With love. 
You peer down into the pot. 
“Okay. Kiyoomi, I am trusting you to deem it ready. Have a taste. The fate of this dinner falls on you.” 
He bites his cheek at your dramatics.
You bring the ladle up to his lips and Kiyoomi has to lean forward a little to meet you halfway. You press the spoon to his lips and he lets the liquid in, his eyes locked on yours as he takes a sip. You feel small in some invigorating, exciting way. 
He pulls away to think about the taste. “A little more rosemary.” 
You eye him carefully but take his word, dipping the ladle back into the pot and sprinkling in a few more leaves. After a few stirs, you scoop the liquid back into the spoon and hold it up to him again. 
He leans forward without being told, almost eager to have you press it to his mouth. Again, he keeps his eyes trained on your face as he has a taste. 
When you pull the ladle away, he remains close to you, face inches away from your own. 
Your fingers twitch. 
“Yes,” He breathes out, your lashes flutter. “It’s ready. Made with love.” 
You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you, but he seems to be inching closer and closer, your grip tightening on the end of the ladle as you start freezing up, debating whether or not to shut your eyes. 
You watch as his pretty eyes close, and with your heart leaping and palms sweating around the ladle from nervousness and the heat that remains in the small space between you two, you let your eyes slip shut. 
You know it– you know it, it’s coming, his lips right against yours, you think you can already taste him—
“I’ve arrived early!”
The both of you jump backwards and the ladle collides with the floor. 
“S-Sorry,” You whisper to Kiyoomi, picking up the ladle and tossing it in the sink before grabbing a different one off the kitchen rack. His shoulders sag and you think you hear him sigh, but he composes himself quickly as your mother makes her way into the kitchen. 
She sees the two of you in front of the soup pot and beams, missing how stiff the both of you look and how you’re wiping your sweaty hands on your apron.
“Teaching Kiyoomi how to cook? Good! Good good, more men should partake in household chores. I cannot wait to taste how Kiyoomi’s soup comes out, should he cook for us soon.” 
He nods curtly, watching as you dip the new ladle into the liquid. You look shaken up, movements jagged and nervous, and he fears he’s done something terribly wrong.
“Did you teach him the most fundamental lesson in cooking, dearie?”
At that, a smile slips onto your face. 
“Yes. Cook with love.”
When the three of you eat dinner together, Kiyoomi mulls over the fact that it was made with love. Your love. He wants to eat so much that he feels full of your affections. He wants so much of it that he cannot help but decline anyone else who offers food, because he’ll be full of your love. 
You two never bring up the almost-kiss. Kiyoomi is scared that he’s pushed a boundary and you’re scared that you misread the situation– so the two of you remain silent and try to fall back into the familiar pattern of days, the rhythm you two share. 
The tension is nearly unbearable when the two of you are less than two feet apart. It almost hurts. It hurts Kiyoomi to look at you so longingly and you never notice. It hurts you when you try to scoot a little closer and all he does is move away. You think it's because he's disgusted with you. He just wants you to feel comfortable. 
Days pass and the both of you pack the incident up and back away into the furthest crevice in your minds. Everything seems alright again– you both talk to the chickens, trim the flowers and cook dinner by each other's side.
You’re preparing to cook and pull your apron off the hook rack that’s nailed right by the kitchen entrance. Kiyoomi watches as you slip it on and watches when you huff in frustration as you try to reach behind yourself and tie it off. Your arms start getting sore from the awkward position they've been in, the apron straps unraveling again and again in protest. You’re about to let the damn thing flail loose until you hear Kiyoomi clear his throat behind you. 
“Let me help.”
Your cheeks burn. 
He delicately takes the straps into his hands, making the base knot against your back and pulling it. “Is that good?” 
It’s a little loose. 
“Tighter, please.”
He pulls. It’s almost like you’re drawn backward, nearly knocking into his chest. He starts tying up a little bow and you feel the brush of his fingers against the small of your back, shivers running up your spine and shoulders. You have to hold yourself back from twitching. 
“There,” He says, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork. He keeps his eyes trained on the bow, tries to hold himself back from drinking in your entire figure. 
It’s oddly domestic, intimate. It has you drifting off in thought, has you confirming all your wonders about his touch that had crowded your mind ever since that day when you saw him pull out the vegetables. He is gentle. You can only hope that the softness of his touch is a testament to his feelings (more specifically, his feelings about you). 
You cough. You make it awkward. You thank him in a quiet, choked up voice before gathering all the pots needed for dinner before scrambling away to start on the food. Kiyoomi thinks he made you uneasy and this time, stands farther away from you when you show him how to prepare the food. Your heart aches at the same time as his. Both of you are back to square one. 
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The following days are painfully repetitive. It’s a cycle of the two of you falling back into place, and then your hands brush his, or you catch him staring, or you lean in too close to him, and then the both of you are creating more distance and relapsing into silence and copious amounts of space. 
On this particular night, the two of you are sitting far apart, him on the rocking chair with an open book, and you on the other side of the living room, pressed into the far corner of the couch, embroidery hoop in hand. 
You could trick yourself into thinking that there’s a sense of peace that blankets the two of you, a scene of quiet comfort and domesticity before there’s a dull knock on the door. 
You both freeze. You’re the first one to get up to go check, and Kiyoomi is a little too late in his reaction as he tries to tell you that he’ll get it, a weird sense of protectiveness overcoming him. 
The door is already open and the air is knocked out of your lungs. 
Before you stands a tall, handsome man, brown hair slightly disheveled, a smile growing as he looks down at you. He is very attractive. But not as charming as Kiyoomi, a voice in your head whispers. 
“Well, well, well,” He starts, leaning onto the door frame. “Didn’t know Omi was staying with a pretty little lady.” 
“Miya,” You hear from behind you, nearly jumping as your skin burns hot knowing there are two striking men trapping you. 
“Ah! My old friend!” The man cheers, his eyes searching yours for approval to step inside. Without any hesitation, you grant him access, slowly backpedaling into Kiyoomi’s chest with a squeak before he moves out of the way, the two of you letting the man inside (much to Kiyoomi’s dismay). 
“Miya,” Kiyoomi starts again, gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?” 
“Don’t be like that, my good friend,” The man, Miya, repeats. “Hurts when you address me by last name.” 
Kiyomi doesn’t retort. He won’t play into the man’s tricks of beating around the bush. 
Finally, he fesses up. 
“Bo and Shoyo and I are going to meet up at the pub in a bit, thought you’d like to come along.” 
You see Kiyoomi make a face. 
“I have suffered enough from your presence over the last few years. Please do not try to rope me back into your antics.” 
“Omi!” The grown man whines, face falling before he remembers that you’re standing there. Slowly, his face shifts into a wicked smile, and Kiyoomi’s frown deepens. 
“Ah ah ah,” He starts, dipping down and leaning in closer as if he’s examining you. “I know why you’re so adamant about staying. Find yourself a pretty little wife?” 
The both of you choke. 
You’re about to protest, but Kiyoomi is pushing Miya out the door, effectively letting you hide behind the broad expanse of his back, but you peek out from behind him to see what’s happening. 
“If I– If I go with you this time, will you swear to not come back?”
“Don’t be like that, Omi.”
“Miya.”
“Just say Atsumu! And fine! I won’t visit after this. Won’t steal your pretty lady away.”
“You are unbearable.”
Your cheeks feel hot as Kiyoomi turns around to face you, face irritated. 
“I’ll be on my way. I should be back before it gets too dark out. Please stay safe.” 
You give him a meek goodbye as you watch him pull his coat from the rack next to the door and slide it on, watch closely as he threads his arms through the sleeves, watch as the article fits snugly against his form, watch as he again proves that he is a sight for sore eyes. 
After you shut and lock the door, you rush to the kitchen window to get a peek at the both of them descending the porch stairs, watch as Atsumu laughs and hangs close to Kiyoomi as the latter tries again and again to maintain the space between them and throws unimpressed looks his way. 
When your mother comes home, you tell her Kiyoomi went out with his friends. She smiles and thanks the heavens, happy that he’s finally getting out there. She tells you she hopes he finds someone he may like while he’s out.
You only hum in response. 
Hours pass and Kiyoomi is still out. You and your mother have already eaten dinner and she’s already fast asleep. You’re already in your nightgown and tired of waiting around. 
You step outside and stand by the chicken coop. You watch them sleep and some of them scatter around and you talk to them as if you’re sending wishes to the universe. Tell them you hope Kiyoomi is okay. Tell them you hope he gets home safe. 
As soon as you’re stepping back inside the house, there are drunken laughs and weak knocks at the front door. Not wanting to seem too excited, you take a few deep breaths to pass time before you hear that Miya boy holler out a muffled Pretty lady, come and get him! Which is nearly cut off by a familiar groan. Kiyoomi throws some swear words around. 
You open the door and find that the two of them were using it as support as they nearly fall into you. Atsumu catches you before you can trip on your own feet and fall backward. 
“Hi,” He breathes out into your face, and you have to hold back from scrunching your nose. He smells of liquor but his steady arms keep you rooted in place, his physique nearly swallowing you whole. 
“Hello,” You start, hyper aware of how you look and if you have any blemishes on your face and how close the two of you are, but before you can think of anything else to find a flaw in, Atsumu is pulled back by Kiyoomi. 
“Stop terrorizing my host,” Kiyoomi hiccups out, trying his hardest to remain stern and imposing, but his friend only laughs brightly.
Atsumu slurs out your name, “You must know,” He starts, leaning his arm on the door frame, trying to pose coolly. “Omi mentioned you an awful lot tonight. Think he might have taken a—” 
“Miya.” 
“Yes, my most beloved Omi,” Atsumu professes, cheeks pink and dewy from all the alcohol. “I’ll leave you two be.” 
He clumsily spins on his heel, trips on his way down the steps, and crushes another flower bush. 
Your eyes flash with pain and Kiyoomi shuts the door before you can see Atsumu trip into anything else. He’s rather good at composing himself, straightening his face and posture as he looks at you. 
“Would you like some dinner?”
“Yes, please.”
You find out soon that Kiyoomi is mouthy when he’s drunk. After you reheat what was left over from dinner and slide the plate towards him, he asks that you sit down with him. His face flashes with disappointment when you sit across from him instead of right by his side. 
In his drunken state, he spills all that he’s kept inside without you even needing to probe. Tells you he plans to get going soon, has his eye on a place, tells you he's ready to move on and start life from scratch. He tells you he's tired of you avoiding him like the plague, but there's no malice behind his voice– only pure disappointment, like he’s sulking. At that, you perk up and lean forward, guiltily trying to fish some more out of him.
“Hate that you stay so far away,” He grumbles before stuffing his fork in his mouth. “Always jumping and skittering around me like I’m, I’m– frightening. Hate that you think I’m scary.” 
He hates that you keep your distance, hates that you've deemed him untouchable, hates that you see him as some warlord man who will crush you beneath the soles of his shoes if you utter something incorrectly. 
“Miya,” He suddenly blurts, and for a second you think he thinks you’re the man that just left. 
“Miya told me to confess to you.” 
Your blood runs cold. Confess…? 
Kiyoomi is quiet after that, finishing up his food with sad eyes. He wants more and more and more, any drop of your love that he can get, he will take it. 
You don't ask if he means confessing by telling you all that he hates or if he means confessing something else. Something else that has your stomach stirring, heart doing odd twists as your fist the skirt of your dress. It's hard to think about it when he's right in front of you and slurring his words and clumsily pushing his plate away. It's something you must think about later, in the solace of your own room. 
When he’s done, you help him shrug off his coat, watch as the expanse of his back reveals himself to you. You guide him to his room, expecting him to close the door as soon as he steps in again, but this time, he turns to face you and leans on the frame. He swallows as he looks over you, eyes droopy and tired, and he looks so vulnerable in this light. He’s loosened up, mouth parted only slightly as he lets his eyes wander where he usually doesn't when sober, lets his mind think what he usually holds back on any other day. 
He breathes out your name. You look up at him curiously. 
“I wish you could come with me.” 
You stiffen. You gently place your hands on his chest and push him back into his room slowly– your touch makes him smile. 
“Goodnight, Kiyoomi,” is all you say. 
“Goodnight, angel.” 
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Just like the almost-kiss, neither of you bring up what Kiyoomi said that night. It's an elephant in the room– at least, to you. You’re not sure if Kiyoomi even remembers what he said. (He does). 
The two of you delve into another game of dancing around each other in circles, putting on a show that makes it seem like everything's alright and that your hearts don’t ache. Neither of you are aware that when night falls and you're in your respective rooms, the both of you dwell and worry about what you've said and done. 
As of late, Kiyoomi hasn't been around. He still helps you with his morning tasks, but after breakfast, he slips out of the house and tells you he will be searching around town for work with his friend Miya. You know that he doesn't owe you any explanations, but some part of you appreciates it. 
(Kiyoomi knows this, too. He wants you to know he isn't seeking anyone else out there).
Day in and day out, he's around less and less. You start to think that Kiyoomi is now trying to get rid of his feelings ever since you didn't exactly reciprocate what he said that night, when he was drunk.
One heartbreaking evening, Kiyoomi announces that he’ll be leaving soon over dinner. Your mother has a big smile on her face as she congratulates him and cups his face and cries on and on about how proud she is and that he deserves all the best. You nod along to everything that she says, but your vision blurs and all the twines of your fork blend together and it’s hard to see what you’re eating. It's even harder to hold back your sniffles as she starts asking him where he’ll move and where he’ll be working and if he's met anyone. She's always on his back about that last one. It makes your heart feel bitter and heavy. 
The next morning, your mother insists that she go out to the market and get Kiyoomi some farewell gifts. He reassures her that she doesn't really have to, tries to convince her to stay as she's already putting on her coat, and then she's walking out the door. 
Kiyoomi asks if you could help him tidy up before he leaves. It’s more of a statement than a question, so you oblige. 
You help him take off his sheets and load them into a basket to wash later. You wipe down the dresser and the desk, help sweep the floors, help him fold his clothing neatly so that his suitcase shuts securely. 
When everything's done, you wipe your hands nervously on your apron and give him a curt nod, turning to leave the room.
“Stay,” He suddenly blurts, fists clenching at his sides. “I have to tell you something before I go.” 
And so you turn and face him, letting your hands fall to your sides. He steps closer to you. 
“Before I go,” He starts, eyes scanning your face for any emotion, but he gets nothing. You look numb. 
“I don’t expect anything from you in return, but I must tell you, or else I don’t think I can live with myself. You,” He hesitates, feeling like he instead wants to turn away and save it for another day. 
The curious glimmer in your eye pulls him back in. 
“You have captured my heart,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly, “The entirety of my soul. I have no regrets in opening myself up to you, in letting you in, and I can say that you have made me a better man. I want to be vulnerable with you as I am now, time and time again. I want us to be one, but to be our own all at once.” 
His eyes search yours frantically, “I love you.” 
Your mouth drops open. 
Hands shaky, you try smoothing out your dress and formulating a response, the right response, one that tells him you feel the same.
Kiyoomi begins to lean away, taking a step back, face calm. “As I’ve said, I don’t expect anything from you in return. You can leave, if you wish.” 
You stay rooted still. 
“Kiyoomi,” You finally squeak, voice cracking like you're on the verge of tears. The tone of it makes him stand up a little straighter, like he's worried about what he's done, but then you're beckoning him forward with your hand.  
He comes in closer, approaching you like you’re injured- gentle and calm like he mustn't startle you any further. You try to lean into him, try to pull him closer, hands wrapping around his shirt and bringing him towards yourself, voice shaky as you manage to get out, “And I you.” 
It’s all he needs. It’s all he needs before he’s dipping down, lips slotting against your own as you sigh out wantonly. Days and weeks and months of pent up feelings and unspoken words all pour out in one kiss, a kiss that has you stumbling backward and grasping at his shirt, his hands roaming down your back and pulling you into him, closer and closer and closer, like he is going to fuse the two of you together. 
(He wants to). 
It isn’t long until you find yourself pressed into his bed, both of your clothes thrown into some corner of the room, underwear torn off as he hovers above you, licking into your mouth and grinding against your cunt. 
��Kiyoomi,” You whimper once he pulls away. “Please.”
He dips down again to kiss and nip at your chest, the metal of his tags stinging your skin and giving you shivers. Kiyoomi hums into your shoulder, licks a stripe up your neck before lifting himself off the bed, planting his hands on your hips. He drags you closer to him, lifting you up as he drags his cock over your warmth. 
“Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans as he slips in, eyes falling shut when you immediately flutter around him. Kiyoomi almost falters, almost curls in on himself and leans atop of you again before he collects himself and starts dragging his cock in and out, hissing at the way you clamp down on him. 
It’s a build up, Kiyoomi starting gentle and slow until you’re bucking up your hips and whining at him to go faster, till the only thing you can get out is a weak string of please please please. 
Kiyoomi cages you beneath him again as he starts drilling into you, broken cries slipping past your lips as your hands race up and down his back, leaving light scratches that make him moan so prettily right by your ear. 
He brings his hands to your thighs, pushing them up and trapping them against your chest and your eyes roll back, body falling pliant to him. He’s so close, all up in your face and humming about how wet you are for him, how fucking good you feel, how you’re made for me, doll, all for me.
His breath fans your face as he thrusts into you desperately, making the bed shake. The tags on his chain bump into your chin, clinking softly like little chimes and bringing you back time and time again as your mind spirals under the feeling of him pounding into you. Kiyoomi grunts and lifts himself up for the fastest second, taking the tags in hand and ripping the chain off his neck, metal grazing the wood floor as it slides away. His irritation with it makes you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat as his cock hits the sweetest spot in you, making your toes curl as you cry out his name. 
He watches you as your hands sneak down, nimble fingers spreading apart your folds to try and get a good look at his length sliding in and out of you. Kiyoomi looks down, watches the spot where the two of you meet, watches as his dick comes out covered in slick before pushing himself back in. 
“Fuck, fuck, angel, you’re so– so good, such a good girl for me.”
Your head bobbles up and down in a nod, weakly whimpering out his name, “I want to cum, please let me– let me cum all over you, Kiyoomi!” 
He shudders, hand coming up to grab at your jaw. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum.” 
You sob out pathetically, legs shaking and twitching as you tighten around him, gushing for what seems like hours until you fall limp, tears invading your vision. Kiyoomi murmurs praises into your cheek before planting both hands on your hips again, using you to reach his high, and you let him, let yourself be his little doll. 
You feel his warm seed trickle into you, stomach fluttering at the sensation before he collapses on top of you. 
Kiyoomi nestles his face into your chest for a few minutes before rolling onto his side, cupping your cheek with his big hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 
You nodded, trying to scoot in closer to him, albeit weakly. 
“I love you, Kiyoomi.” 
He smiles. He’s beautiful, you think. He opens his mouth to return the affection, your hand coming up to brush his curls away, but there’s a telltale sound at the door that alarms the both of you. 
In an instant, you two are up, laughing and tripping over your own feet, Kiyoomi hustling into his slacks as you awkwardly slide your dress back on, thumping into the footboard of the bed as your mother chirps out like a bird, “I’m home!” 
“Your mother,” Kiyoomi says in a hushed tone, leaning close to you as he buttons up his shirt, “Always has to go and interrupt us.” 
You smile up at him cheekily, and he catches the mischievousness in your eyes. 
“Just means that you must take me with you, I presume?” 
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You step out into the grass of the backyard, the sun already hanging in the sky since you’re a little bit late to your task. Nonetheless, you head straight towards the chicken coop and unfasten the doors, the chickens pouring out and clucking around obnoxiously, as they always have. The rest is muscle memory– throw out the old water, replace it, add in fresh food, sit with the chickens. The familiarity of it all soothes you– not that you need soothing. You simply feel in touch with your roots again. 
“Good morning, Harold.” You jeer at one particular chicken, who eyes you warily. You laugh. “Now don’t be jealous, I’ll always come back to check on you.” 
He gives an approving cluck. 
You gather yourself and get back up, slipping off your boots on the back porch. As you approach the dutch door, you see someone already leaning onto the bottom half of it, a little bouquet in hand. 
“He told me to give this to you,” Your mother swoons, holding out the bundle of flowers to you. A laugh bubbles at your lips as you observe the flowers, holding the stems together, “Aren’t these from the front yard? Such a romantic,” You joke, rolling your eyes as you make your way inside. You tuck the flowers into one of your mother’s vases to keep them safe. 
“I’ll get started on breakfast,” You call out, despite it already being later in the day and, technically, lunch time would be rolling around. 
“Oh no no,” You mother gasps, a sound that you had become all too familiar with when Kiyoomi was around, when she’d clutch her chest in shock. 
“You rest, my dear, I’ll start working on the food.” 
“Mother,” You press, “You need to go rest. That’s the exact reason why we came over here!”
“Nonsense!” She chimes, pushing you down to sit at the dining table as she pads over to the kitchen. You remain still for a few moments to appease her, but then the front door creaks open and you’re on your feet immediately. 
“Hi lover,” You say almost bashfully as Kiyoomi approaches you, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sinks down to kiss your forehead, your chin, your lips. 
“Hi, my little doll,” he mutters against you before pulling away. “Did you like the flowers I got you?” 
You laugh, observing the green and brown stains on his white undershirt, evidence of his hard work in the front yard. “I shouldn’t be praising a thief, seeing as you took my mother’s flowers right from her yard.” 
“Oh?” He suddenly challenges, “I think this thief deserves a little praise, seeing as I successfully made your heart mine.” 
You can’t help but scoff, tongue poking at your cheek with how embarrassing he is, how corny he’s become now that he’s in love. 
Your mother scurries back in with two plates in hand, telling you both to Sit, sit! like dogs, and Kiyoomi looks at you with a knowing smile on his face. Always interrupting things.
As the three of you start eating, your mother points her fork accusingly at you. 
“And you, my sweet girl, better eat up. You need more nutrients for when a baby is on the way.” 
You choke. Kiyoomi smiles into his cup as he takes a sip. 
“We’re not expecting,” You scold, stabbing your fork into your food. “You can’t just say things like that, mother—”
“How come? You never know! With the two of you in that new big home, you’ll surely want to fill in some space. You’re young! There’s no shame!” 
“You’re the one who may as well fill up the space, visiting nearly every day!” 
“Oh honey, I’m just excited for you—” 
The bickering is all in good fun, Kiyoomi knows. He takes your hand into his underneath the table, finger brushing against the golden band that encompasses your own. 
Yes, he thinks to himself, heart swelling. Perhaps it’s time to start filling up the space.
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thecouchsofa · 4 months
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You might be thinking, Tee, in your 2023 AO3 wrap up post, you said you wrote a ridiculous amount of HP fic this year - but what about reading? Well, thanks for asking, imaginary audience – as a matter of fact, I did indeed read a lot of Drarry fics this year. A fucking horrendous number of Drarry fics, in fact.
Below the cut are some of my favourites that were published in 2023, arranged by word count.
But first, a note: there is truly an overwhelming amount of talent in this fandom and this list only scratches the surface. These fics all gave me something that I was looking for and were my favourites for a number of different reasons. I hope you can find something new to love here (or reconnect with an old favourite), and that you enjoy these stories as much as I did!
If there’s a fic from 2023 that isn’t here but you really enjoyed, chuck it in the replies section so we can all see it!
🌸 AITA for being "obsessed" with my childhood nemesis? – @rainstormradish (4k, M) 🌸
Alrakis I [24M] attended a small boarding school in the UK. There was a boy in my year, a couple of months younger than me, and he became my nemesis after we developed an intense rivalry. My friend [25F] told me recently that our dynamic was "weird back then" and that "it’s even weirder" that I still think about him today. She argued that I talk about him all the time, but I believe the amount I talk about him is reasonable. AITA?
prongymcprongface i completely get what you mean. i had a nemesis (like a school one, separate to my other nemesis) and we had a dynamic super similar to what you are describing. having a nemesis is a very cool and normal thing dw about it. NTA
In which Draco asks the internet if he's being reasonable. Only one commenter is sympathetic. They start talking.
Read for: unique fic idea with a cool layout, humour, boys being idiots
🌻 Snug – @moonflower-rose (6k, E) 🌻
Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.
Read for: Draco being Obsessed with Harry(‘s cock), Humorous Writing Style
🪻 Birds Behaving Badly – @peachpety (10k, E) 🪻
For eight years, Draco has been content living a quiet life of anonymity in Brighton, dodging pesky seagulls and enjoying the ephemeral boys of summer. And if these summer blokes just happen to resemble Harry Potter, it’s a mere coincidence—despite what his friends say.
But when a repeat one-night stand challenges him to face his desires, Draco thinks he’s finally over his years-long crush.
A seagull named Kevin thinks otherwise.
For: Unleashed!Fest 2023
Read for: hidden/mistaken identity, summer vibes, Kevin the seagull
🌸 Under the Confetti Mist – @azalealarae (12k, E) 🌸
Harry and Draco stay up late working on a Potions assignment in the poorly ventilated eighth-year common room, unaware that disinhibition is a side effect of the elixir’s vapor.
Read for: Sex Pollen, Drarry as Potions partners
🌻 Hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights – newskyillusion (13k, M) 🌻
The world, as Harry knew it, has ended.
At least he has a garden.
OR
Harry and Draco live through the apocalypse
For: Drarry Let’s Play Fest 2023
Read for: body horror, cosy vibes (just trust me, lol), Harry gardening, Powerful Harry, Harry and Draco relying on each other.
🪻 Amorous As This Lovely Green – @annanother-thing (14k, E) 🪻
Harry hates being a celebrity. Draco cannot find a single model that fits his vision for his latest line. They both make the debatable choice of trusting one PA extraordinaire/best friend, Pansy Parkinson.
For: Harry/Draco Career Fair 2023
Read for: Harry modelling lingerie, Hot Harry
🌸 Help! I'm a Hopeless Romantic! – @peachydreamxx (14k, M) 🌸
Draco turns from the bar, eyes latching onto Harry. He surveys him, one brow lifting, and Harry, like a deer in headlights, throws his hand up with the world’s most awkward wave. Draco just weaves out of sight, and Harry’s face burns as Ron pats him on the shoulder, then steals a chip. “He gave you a look, didn’t he?”
~ how to get over your crush
~ places that sell cake after 11pm near me
~ how to tell if someone is playing hard to get
A year in the life of Harry's shared moments, and private thoughts
For: Wheel of Drarry Mini-Exchange Secret Santa 2023
Read for: Harry’s Google Searches, Humour
🌻 Cool About It – @oflights (M, 16k) 🌻
Harry is so excited for his first date with Draco. But what follows isn't so much a date as it is an all-night odyssey including a malevolent lift, a Gringotts heist, a Sleeping Curse, a trip to the kebab shop, a lack of dancing, a Muggle drug, a rooftop pool party, a black eye and, eventually, a sunrise over a Quidditch stadium.
Read for: Humour, idiots in love, first dates
🪻 The Eighth Sin – @thehoneybeet (16k, E) 🪻
When Draco is sentenced to five years of house arrest, without magic, alone, the only person to visit him is Potter. But Draco’s beginning to doubt whether Potter is really there at all.
For: HD Wireless 2023
Read for: dreamy/sad vibes, caring Harry, a beautiful exploration of a relationship
🌸 What’s Mine is Yours – @fluxweeed (17k, E) 🌸
Harry loses something important. Malfoy helps him get it back.
Read for: smut so hot it’ll light you on fire
🌻 O Come, All Ye Faithful – toomuchplor (19k, E) 🌻
Aunt Petunia died, that was what began everything.
Or rather, Aunt Petunia was dying. In the act of dying.
In which Draco finds faith in the church, and Harry finds faith in Draco.
Read for: Vicar Draco, Harry’s Vicar Kink, Beautiful Writing, Draco’s Hard Sanctified Cock
🪻 The Boys of Summer – @saxamophone (19k, E) 🪻
It's summer, and they're spending it at a lake, far away from everything. There’s swimming and a floating dock, cracked and warm in the sun. Fizzy drinks and fireflies. Sticky strawberry ice lollies and beach towels tangled under them.
Harry’s golden skin and love for The Grateful Dead and Fleetwood Mac.
Draco Malfoy is doomed, but what else is new?
For: HD Wireless 2023
Read for: delicious pining, summer vibes, beautiful romance, nostalgic vibes
🌸 Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage – @goblinmatriarch (E, 21k) 🌸
Lord Draco Malfoy may be a young man spending time in Dumbledore’s summer court, but that does not mean he needs to succumb to its licentious frivolity. He carries the burden of his lineage, the shadow of rumours, and the dignity of his betrothal to a good match. He is certainly not fool enough to be distracted by the dark curls and ready grin of the court’s stableboy, who seems to have taken up with every courtier who looks his way.
For: HP Bodice Ripper Fest 2023
Read for: Historical AU done right, Draco in a codpiece, more riding euphemisms than you can count
🌻 True Love Gave To Me – @epitomereally (23k, E) 🌻
It’s the first of December, and all Draco wants to do is make Christmas lovely for Scorpius. But then Harry Potter shows up, asking him to save the world, and it turns out they’ve almost saved the world a couple of times before. One-hundred and forty-four times, to be exact.
Or: what happens after the time loop?
For: H/D Erised 2023
Read for: time loop shenanigans, cosy vibes, adorable Scorpius (and his geese)
🪻 Nothing But You On My Mind – @moonflower-rose (29k, M) 🪻
Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong?
Loads, as it turns out.
For: HD Wireless 2023
Read for: Angst, Draco/Ron/Hermione Friendship, idiots in love
🌸 who will receive you in love's offices – @jtimu (30k, E) 🌸
A year in the life of Draco Malfoy, increasingly derailed by Harry Potter.
In the aftermath of it all, Draco opened an antiques shop. Sort of. Mostly, though, what he did was repair work. People brought him their grandparents’ charmed silverware or a pocketwatch which was meant to show the stars at your birth but now only held the time, and he would fix them. It was quiet work, a little lonely, but for the repeated intrusions of one Harry J Potter.
Read for: brilliant deep dive into magical theory, smarty pants Draco, enemies to friends to lovers (emphasis on the middle step), poetry references by the bucketful, a version of Draco that lives rent free in my mind
🌻 Half Sick of Shadows – @starquestingfordrarry (39k, E) 🌻
Harry and Draco have been sleeping together for months, and it's fine. It's enough for Harry.
But when things finally start to feel like the more Harry's been hoping for, a strange tapestry project has him worrying he won't ever get the chance.
Or: the one with sheep, dragons, and a whole lot of weaving metaphors.
For: H/D Career Fair 2023
Read for: Alvin the ram, Harry carving wooden dildos, magical tapestries, atmospheric vibes, an artfully created world
🪻 Now I Know In Part – @dodgerkedavra (39k, E) 🪻
Harry Potter is the savior of the Wizarding World. Draco Malfoy is a reformed Death Eater turned Ministry Curse-Breaker. Five years after the War, they're brought together by another mysterious curse.
Only this time, Harry's the one who needs saving.
More specifically, he needs Draco.
They have one month to break the curse, and the clock is ticking.
Read for: Draco taking care of Harry, Cottagecore vibes, bucketfuls of sweetness, great smut
🌸 Nothing Gold Can Stay – @moonflower-rose (40k, E) 🌸
One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of.
Draco Malfoy is on the case.
For: H/D Erised 2023
Read for: Alternate Universes, Married Draco/Harry, Non-Painful Angst
🌻Sharper than a Sea Serpent's Tooth – @goblinmatriarch (40k, T)
Draco expects his research trip to Crete to focus on the ecology of ward design, with perhaps some cheeky visits to the elusive sea serpents and the odd sleepy beach day. Instead, he encounters a Past he's spent over a decade trying to outrun, and a familiar scowl under glasses and a scar. Featuring just so much imagining being on a hot, sunny beach for your winter pleasure.
For: H/D Erised 2023
Read for: Magical Creatures, Greek Mythology, International Location (Crete), Atmospheric Writing
🪻 LA, Who Am I To Love You? – @epitomereally (42k, E) 🪻
Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.
For: HD Wireless 2023
Read for: Werewolf Harry, Incubus Draco, Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Interesting Location (LA)
🌸 A Pulled Down Shade – fast_brother (43k, M) 🌸
Harry does not like Draco Malfoy, not even one bit. Never did and never will. That is, until he finds himself married to him.
For: HP Soulmates Fest 2023
Read for: HUGE Grounds for Divorce vibes! Angst, Harry working through trauma, Harry fighting for Draco
🌻 The Waiting – @oknowkiss (43k, E) 🌻
It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.
For: HD Wireless 2023
Read for: Curse Breaker Partners, Angst, Secret Relationship
🪻 The Unplottable Time Conundrum – @writcraft (45k, E) 🪻
When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.
For: H/D Erised 2023
Read for: House Magic, The Order of the Pheonix, Haunted House vibes, Drarry in their 30s
🌸 Our Objective Remains Unchanged – @citrusses (46k, E) 🌸
Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.
Read for: Muggle AU, Sports AU, Competitiveness, Damn good writing
🌻 Everybody Hates a Tourist – @wolfpants (51k, E) 🌻
On a stag do in sunny Brighton with the Gryffindor lads, the last person Harry expects to run into is Draco Malfoy. After a glimpse of Malfoy’s Muggle life in Britain’s gay capital, Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself returning to the seaside again and again, drawn to the city, drawn to this new version of Malfoy that Harry barely recognises from school.
Meanwhile, Draco’s just trying to live his big and best queer life: working for the weekend, chasing hot men, getting lost in Brighton's nightlife, and making friends with the neighbourhood cats. Why does his former school rival and crush have to show up and spoil everything?
For: HD Wireless 2023
Read for: beautiful relationship building, Harry finding himself, Draco living his best life. I won’t lie, I’d read the back of a cereal box if wolfpants wrote it – do yourself a favour if you haven’t already
🪻 from love, obviously – bizarrestars (52k, M) 🪻
"I just mean, doing the right thing because it's right is better than doing it because…"
"What?" Draco challenges, amused. "Better to do it because it's right as opposed to doing it because it's not wrong? Please enlighten me on what the difference is."
"You're the difference," is Harry's answer.
(Or: Draco Malfoy comes up with a plan, drinks a lot of tea, and fails to fix a clock. Somewhere along the way, Harry Potter falls in love with him, which wasn't a part of the plan at all.)
Read for: Unhinged Draco, Harry being resigned to Draco’s antics, Weasley family feels, fast pacing
🌸 Terrible People – @getawayfox and @wolfpants (52k, E) 🌸
What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right?
Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.
Read for: Gorgeous Art , RomCom vibes, Gay Cruise, Friends with Benefits to Lovers
🌻 Nights With You – @the-sinking-ship (58k, E) 🌻
Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.
Now all Draco has to do is convince him.
Read for: Fake dating, mild size kink, international location (Italy), mildly unhinged Draco, hot Harry
Note: This is the fic that made me set up a Doc for everything I’d read to make sure I wouldn’t lose it to the wide realm of the internet.
🪻 Rookie Moves – peu_a_peu (75k, E) 🪻
Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.
Read for: Humour, Enemies to Coworkers to Lovers, Unhinged Draco
🌸 How To Train Your Malfoy – @fencer-x (93k E) 🌸
Good manners dictate that, when one’s best friend Apparates onto one’s doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he weren’t so polite.
For: H/D Erised 2023
Read for: Dragon Animagus Draco, Harry taking care of Draco, brilliant writing, a funny as fuck premise – I wanted Draco to stay in his unhinged dragon form forever
🌻 Symptom of Your Touch – NoxNoir (115k, E) 🌻
St. Mungo's Healer Draco Malfoy is used to being pushed to his limits when providing aide to the ailing, but when an unexpected encounter with an out of character Harry Potter throws his life out of balance one night, he is forced to ask himself how far he's willing to push his own levels of discomfort to be of aid to a man in need of help that only he can provide.
Read for: Draco taking care of Harry, Pining, Unrequited love, buckets of sexual tension
🪻 Recursion – Tessa Crowley (132k, E) 🪻
A process is recursive when it defines or contains itself; e.g., the Fibonacci sequence, which determines the next number as the sum of the previous two.
But not all recursive processes are mathematical. Recursion can happen in a temporal context when, for instance, the powerful magical force that is true love drags you back in time so it can create itself, endangering the fate of the Wizarding World—not to mention the very fabric of space and time—along the way.
Read for: Canon Retelling/Divergence, time travel, Slytherin Harry, a truly insane amount of physics/magical theory/intelligence. This fic was too smart for me in the best way. If you liked Chaos Theory read this – it’s even better!
🌸 Cut From the Sky – @mallstars (150k, E) 🌸
"I'm stuck in a time loop, reliving November 2nd. This is the 111th time I've lived through today."
Draco stilled. His moody eyes, the tension in his hands where he gripped onto his umbrella, the careful mask of blankness flickering over his face — everything about him was so difficult and so very dear to Harry.
"Ah," said Draco, "and?"
Note: no rec list for this year could be considered complete without including this one.
Read for: Harry at his most loveable, a relationship story told a hundred different ways, atmospheric worldbuilding, Trans representation.
🌻 In the Blood – BiscuitBrunch (225k, E) 🌻
Harry Potter thinks Draco Malfoy is a slimy git of a defense lawyer, who couldn't care less about doing the right thing.
Draco Malfoy thinks Harry Potter is a filthy pig of an Auror, who couldn't care less about doing the right thing.
They fight, fuck, fall in love, and fight some more.
When they're on the brink of getting their shit together and starting a family, a blood curse surfaces that threatens the lives of Draco and their unborn child.
Read for: badass lawyer Draco, deep exploration of a relationship, working through trauma, slice of life, mpreg
533 notes · View notes
eideticallys · 11 months
Text
I Don't Mind If It's You
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: maybe styling spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.
genre: fluff
word count: 1081
author's notes: i missed spencer's long hair so i decided to write a self-indulging fic about playing with his hair. also posted on ao3 (spencereids).
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SPENCER HAS ALWAYS FOREGONE STYLING HIS HAIR IN THE MORNINGS. He always thought as long as he could just flick the strands of hair behind his ear, he was good to go. And besides, he had a hair tie with him. He could just simply tie it back—no more pesky hair in his line of sight.
He has always foregone styling his hair in the mornings until he met you. While he was big on practicality & “Hairstyling is a waste of time”!” You were the exact opposite. 
It’s quite a funny thing to think about. Spencer, a certified germaphobe, was uncaring about how his hair looked, whether it was kept well today or it looked like a bird’s nest the next. And then, there’s you. You’re not a germaphobe though you pride yourself as a chic woman. Not a law enforcement job could stop you from looking like you came straight out of a magazine.
You always found the time to make sure your hair looked pretty and presentable before heading to work. In your free time—quite rare for FBI agents—you liked to read magazines for trendy new styles to try or watch videos online for tutorials.
And today was definitely your lucky day. No case. Everyone is off for the holidays.
Unfortunately, that’s where your luck ended.
You got injured during your last case. Your arm is in a cast, unable to move it around like you wanted it to. Fortunately, your hand was still good & thankfully, uninjured, unlike the rest of your arm. So, although you were free to lounge around your home, you couldn’t try that one hairstyle you found in one of those Cosmopolitan articles.
Until a genius idea came to you like a light bulb turning on.
“Hey, Spence?”
You asked your boyfriend, who was busy skimming through what seemed like his third or fourth book of the day.
He’s so cute when he’s all focused like this, you thought. 
He hummed in response, still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pages.
“I have a favor to ask you.”
This made Spencer look up from what he was reading, staring at you questioningly. You were the type of person who never asked for help or favors—unless needed. You often disagreed with him because he would prefer it if you told him whatever problem you had. Although he was a genius and could help with you, he knew lending an ear to someone was already a big help. 
"You know I can't move my arm around, right?" You asked him, to which he nodded in agreement. 
"Yeah, is it itchy?” He asked, about to go off on one of his notable tangents. “It takes around six to eight weeks for broken bones in casts to heal. Also, around that time, the injured area starts to itch.”
You nodded fondly at the man, not minding a little bit that he went off-topic. You love listening to his mini-lectures—not only do you learn something new, but you’d also hear the soft tone of his voice. One thing about Spencer is he had a pretty voice. You could listen to him talk for hours.
“There are five main reasons why your casts itch—nerves, trapped moisture, immune response, dead skin cells, and body hair.” Spencer continued tattling. “Nerves cause itchiness because the nerve endings in the skin may fire as the cast begins to harden and dry, sending itch-inducing signals to the brain. As for the itchiness being an immune response, it ensues when the body perceives the plaster of Paris or fiberglass as an outside invader. Histamines may be released. Itching, redness, and swelling can be brought on by released histamine.” 
With his excitement to share facts about how broken bones heal, you couldn’t help but laugh at how dorky but adorable your boyfriend was, which made him scrunch his nose.
“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“You are, but I don’t mind. I like it.”
At this, Spencer’s ears started turning pink, making you chuckle some more. He scratched the back of his neck in shyness as you took it as a clue to tell him what you needed from him.
“My arm isn’t itchy, babe,” you began, “What I need from you is your hair.”
“My what?” 
“Your hair.” 
It was your turn to get shy. You knew Spencer wasn’t a big fan of having his hair messed with. It’s not that he hates it. He just doesn’t like messing with it that much—minus the occasional flicking behind his ear and simply tying it back when it gets irritating.
“I—um,” you explained further, trying to fight against the embarrassment you were feeling. This was your boyfriend you’re talking to!  “I saw this cute new hairstyle online and I wanted to try it but you know, with the broken arm and all…” You trailed off.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” You chuckled humorlessly, beyond embarrassed at this point.
This was such a bad idea. Why did you even bring it up? You were about to start berating yourself, ready to hop onto the next train and create a new identity for yourself, when you noticed Spencer shuffling towards you, sitting on the floor between your legs.
“You want me to style your hair?” You asked incredulously, still can’t believe Spencer would let you play with his hair.
“Of course.” He replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world 
Like it was an everyday thing for anyone—you—to do his hair.
“I don’t mind my hair being played with if it’s you.”
At that, you blushed as you started combing through his soft curls with your fingers. Spencer merely smiled softly at the gesture and closed his eyes.
“Y/N?” Spencer asked quietly.
“Yeah?” You asked back as you started braiding his hair. “What is it, Spence?”
“I love you.” He muttered. “I may not like it when people touch my hair out of nowhere. But if it’s you, I don’t mind having you do it for the rest of my life.”
You gasped at his sudden confession and were about to say those three words back when you felt it.
Spencer planted a kiss on your injured arm and pulled your other one down, so he could be face-to-face with you. And before you knew it, his lips brushed against yours, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.
Maybe styling Spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.
2K notes · View notes
theroyalyandere · 9 months
Note
About the yan!fisherman. What about a cute little siren darling that’s too colorful and loud for their own good, only to get ensnared by a angry deep sea fisherman captain. Who only promises to let them go if he can have a wish in return. (Old mermaid tales say mermaids could grant wishes to those who save them or return their hair comb) And darlings like, I wouldn’t need saving if you’d let me go. I’m not granting you a wish just because you threaten me. ( like pirates of the Caribbean, they’re hard to crack) so the fisherman captain keeps his darling on his ship in a converted tank and kills off the rest of the crew. Eventually wearing away the mermaid darlings resolve till they say yes. And the captain had been thinking about wishing the mermaid to be human but knows those tales never end well. Either his prize runs back to the sea, or one of them dies before the other due to a shortened mortal life. Which doesn’t appeal because he hates land and wants to be out at sea which he can’t if he’s constantly making sure they don’t leave him. And he wants to be with them for eternity, regardless of darling’s wishes.
So he kills two birds with one stone and wishes “for my heart’s desire”. Only the wish is twisted by his obsession, unbeknownst to darling. But they still grant it because they believe his one true desire is greed like most humans… which they’re not wrong. So he becomes a huge terrifying shark merman, or maybe a cecalia, or giant sea snake naga.
And now you’ve got a sea monster that hates humans and his shiny little siren that he can make scream and sing others to their death.
… or what about a reverse harem of deep sea fishermen turned into sea monsters to protect their little darling by one tainted wish. Darling grants the captain’s wish and it “condemns” the small boat like Davy Jones. So now mermaid darling has more to outswim.
oh my god??? I can't describe how genius you are anon! mermaid darling and her yan!fisherman turned into sea monster?!!! I'm going to combine both of the ideas and make a sea monster harem instead becauseeeeeeeeee 😮‍💨🤭 I only know a little about pirates of the Caribbean so please forgive me with the inaccuracies and I'm sorry if this is pretty short, I can continue this and turn this into a series if you like!
note: mermaid!darling is referred to as she/her please don't read if you don't feel comfortable thank you!
Warnings: yandere, dark content, gore/body horror, kidnapping, prey/hunter dynamics, death threats, manipulation
yan!sea monster harem x mermaid!darling/reader
As a mermaid, you've heard from your sisters that some of those like you were captured from those above.
You did not exactly expect to be captured by one of them, especially them.
You blame your colorful tail for attracting too much attention, you managed to throw everyone who went after you so far and your sisters think you're truly lucky but this time you ran out of luck.
Not only are you aware of the bounty set upon your head, you are also believed to be the most powerful of all mermaids which they aren't wrong about. However you have not granted any humans a wish yet. As you believe them to be the most vile of beings.
They are too brutish and rude and cruel. You did not like them one bit.
As soon as you got caught into their net you did not hesitate to flail around as an attempt to set yourself free. You snarled at everyone showing your viscious at the pesky humans.
Your sharp claws tear out through the net and smack everything with your tail. Unfortunately you got stopped by the captain.
His tall, menacing frame looming over you like a boulder with a grumpy face. He shows no reaction at your defensive state and it only scares you more than the other way around.
He corners you and kneels down to your level, he gave you an offer.
The captain will only let you go once you grant a wish of his however in your fury you instead jumped into him and pinned him down, snarling as you try to choke him.
His crew surrounds you each with a weapon in their hand, threatening to kill you unless you let go.
You kept being defiant until one of them got to restrain you setting your victim free.
The poor crew mate groans as he tries to not let you go.
The captain ordered for you to be hidden in the ship until they figure out how to break you.
So you get hidden in a cabin into a tank filled with water allowing you to live above the sea.
As long as they keep you, you refuse to agree to their conditions. Their offers being returned with a glare or an attack from you.
Until, one of the younger crew got closer to you. Watching and observing how you interact with the young one.
They all secretly watch as you the young crew mate won you over with their smiles and gentle demeanor, granting them the opportunity to see another side of yourself.
Your heart begins to soften and sing a song for the youngster.
The other crew told this to the captain and watched with his own eyes the scene unfolding. He urges the crew mate to get closer to you.
One by one they start to get obsessed with you. The crew either fight on who's turn to give you some food to eat or they wrestle among each other who gets to hear you sing to them first.
It only got worse when the captain got involved, one night he caught himself listening to your melodies and felt something he had never experienced before.
He eventually chased for this feeling and he knew that only you can satisfy him and his dark desires.
So his desire further strayed away from what he wanted and darker as his desires were focused on you.
At one point his impatience got into him and barged into the cabin you're at and threatens to kill the crew mate you grew fond of, your eyes pool with pearls and panic present on your face as you try to grab onto him.
He tells you that he will certainly finish the crew mate if you don't agree immediately, he asks you to grant his wish and you ask him what it is. He replies..
"for my heart's desire"
You assume it has something to do with wealth and power but oh you were wrong.
You watch as the captain slowly morphs into a sea monster. The scene is so grotesque that you tried to shield yourself away from the scene.
Outside the cabin, the whole crew starts to fall ill and scream in pain as their bodies start to turn different. Their skin turning into scales or being covered by corals and such.
Even the young crew mate you adored was not spared from the awful transformation. As the wish manifests into reality so does a storm, overturning the ship upside down as an enormous wave swallows the ship whole.
The ship gets wrecked and you try to escape into the ocean and swim away only to get caught by a powerful force wrapped around you and you turn to face it.
Only a horrifying sight greets you as the crew were turned into predatory monsters that will sure haunt all over the seas.
The one keeping you captive is the captain, he became an enormous sea monster that towers over you. With long tentacles and his eyes glowing with evil.
His tentacles engulf your whole being as you struggle to get out of his hold, blocking you away from the rest of the world.
971 notes · View notes
actiniumwrites · 5 months
Text
MISTLETOE
synopsis: one year after your devastating breakup, you and neuvillette find yourselves under the mistletoe
characters: neuvillette x gn!reader
wc: 1.6k
warnings: angst to fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, mentions of breakups, the steambird being exploitative
notes: woooo first christmas fic for this year is done! this definitely could’ve been way longer, but i’ve got like four more to write and i’m pretty happy with how this turned out. this concept was also originally going to go to wriothesley but i think neuvillette suits it better :)
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The first thing that makes it really set in that the holiday season has arrived in Fontaine is the pesky decorations.
Everywhere you go there seems to be some sort of string of lights, faux presents, and little snowmen. Don’t get it twisted, it isn’t like you’re some Scrooge when it comes to the holidays, but it hasn’t quite been the same ever since, well, ever since it happened.
Your shoes click and clack against the brick flooring of Fontaine’s main city floors. The same ones that are beginning to ice over from the cruel frost of winter air. And it doesn’t exclude you either, not with the way it snips at your nose and makes it hard to breathe even when you’ve barely stepped foot outside.
“Good morning!” Charlotte calls to you as you walk past her, a hand eagerly waving you down with that mischievous glint in her eyes. Part of you wants to duck behind a bush and pretend you don’t see her, but you’re better than that.
You send her an apologetic smile and pull your coat a little closer. You slow your pace a bit but don’t stop moving as you respond, “Sorry, Charlotte. I know I said I’d interview soon, but I really can’t today.”
“C’mon, the whole world wants to know the tragic holiday tale of you and Monsieur Neuvillette! Let it be a present to the subscribers of the Steam Bird!” She pushes your buttons carefully, camera ready to strike incase you change your mind or make any comment on the matter.
If you hadn’t had any reason to turn that interview down beforehand, you certainly do now.
Even though you hate the way she looks so disappointed when you walk away, it serves all of Fontaine right for meddling with people’s private business. Seriously? Did everything have to be entertainment to these people?
You scoff as you walk away, mumbling something about forgetting that interview if that’s what she wanted all along. Naturally, she doesn’t hear it, nor does she get to see your sour reaction as you desperately walk away from her and that stupid camera.
When you finally make it to the Palais Mermonia, you check in quickly and one of the Melusines, Liath, hands you a few letters that had been dropped off for you prior to your arrival. One carelessly slips from your cold hand before you can even register it happening. When you pick it up, your body had shifted ever so slightly and for a second, just a split second, you shoot a longing glance at the doors to your right. The doors that led to his office. To him.
“Is something the matter? Do those letters not belong to you?” Liath interrupts with a puzzled expression as she tilts her head.
You snap out of your thoughts and quickly scramble to compose yourself. You hold the stack of letters close to your chest as you take a step back and awkwardly laugh, “Oh uh no! I just um, got a little distracted, sorry.”
“You got distracted looking at the Iudex’s…doors?”
You hesitate, mouth agape and unsure of how to respond, “I uh, yeah I guess I was.”
“Interesting,” she says suspiciously, squinting her lilac eyes at you, “he asked about you this morning, actually.”
“He did?” you say all too fast, perking up at the mention of his name. It’s pathetic, really. You internally thank the Archons for Melusines not being all too good at understanding human behavior.
“Yes,” she answers simply, crossing her small arms one over the other.
“And um,” you push further, not realizing the way you eagerly take a step forward, “what did he say?”
“Nothing. He merely inquired when you would be coming in today.”
You can’t help the disappointment in your voice as a quiet, “Oh,” slips out. Part of you wants to ask if there was anything else, maybe some sort of expression or tone of voice she caught, but you hold yourself back.
Get it together. It’s almost been a year.
One tragic year since the two of you split. One long, tragic year since you wished you could’ve worked something out, even if it meant you could’ve had a little more time together. It was mutual, but truthfully, you never wanted him gone. You only wish you could’ve realized it at the time.
“Thank you,” you nod and walk away while trying to hide the dismay you felt. She doesn’t say anything else.
As you walk to the other end of the hall, you notice someone had placed some illuminated garland around the frame of your door and a miniature Christmas tree in the corner a few feet away. It isn’t as extravagant as the decorations they had placed around Neuvillette’s door, but you appreciate it nonetheless.
The inside is a lot less spirited and looks like your normal dreary office. You pay no mind to it as you get to work right away, trying desperately to keep the interaction between Neuvillette and Liath out of your head. You even keep the door to your office open a little bit, letting the hushed voices in the main corridor fade into white noise while you scribbled away at some documents for the court.
And it works. You don’t even notice eight hours pass until it becomes too dark to see what you’re writing. Nor do you notice that there isn’t anyone outside anymore and that the only noise filling the space is the quiet holiday tune your phonograph plays from across the room.
You sigh and set down the pen from your cramped hand. It was December 23rd. Two days before Christmas and here you were, alone and with nothing to do for the holidays but working away in a cold office.
It makes you frown the longer you think about it. So you stand quickly, shutting off the lamps in the room and placing everything away in their files for the night. Quietly, you exit the room and lock the doors behind you as you begin to head out for the night thinking that perhaps you could go and at least treat yourself to a meal or some shopping.
You don’t expect to bump into someone the moment you turn around.
“I’m so sorry!”
“My apologies.”
You both rush at the same time.
You freeze when his deep voice hits your ears and you instantly take a step backward.“Neuvillette..?” you whisper, glancing up into the familiar blue eyes that belong to the man you once called yours. The question is more to yourself than to him. Almost as if you can’t believe he’s actually standing in front of you.
He clears his throat tensely and mirrors you in taking a step back, “Sorry, I was unaware anyone else was still here.”
“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve watched where I was going,” you say, eyes not straying from his, “and it isn’t too surprising, I mean, it isn’t like I have anything to be doing for the holidays since…nevermind.”
Neuvillette catches what you were about to say but saves you the headache of having to do any sort of explaining. Instead, he motions in front of him and pulls the keys out from his pocket, “Shall we go? It’s getting rather late. I can lock the doors behind us.”
Us. It’s weird hearing that again.
You wordlessly nod and follow his lead. Like the gentleman he always was, Neuvillette opens the door and lets you out first. You stand a few feet away by the small set of stairs as he locks it quickly. Gently, you reach your hand out from under the overhang and feel small bits of frost falling onto your hands.
“It’s snowing,” you say wistfully, admiring the delicate snowflakes falling upon your palms. Neuvillette turns to look at the sky as he walks up to stand next to you. Peeling off one of his navy blue gloves, he lets the snow reach him too.
“A rare sight for Fontaine,” he hummed with a small but warm smile on his face. Fontaine didn’t usually get cold enough to the point of snowing. It had been a long time since you had seen it either.
He turns to look at you the same time you turn to look at him. A gentle laugh falls from your lips but it stops the moment he points to something above you, “I believe this is mistletoe. I’m sure the Melusines placed this here. One of them mentioned learning about it in a book to me the other day.”
You’re surprised how conversational he is with you.
“We don’t have to,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. There’s hurt in it, and you have a hard time disguising it. It’s evident by the way his eyes soften as he looks at you.
Neuvillette exhales as he looks to the floor and then back to you, “You know I don’t like to break traditions.”
You take a step closer. He does the same.
“Are you sure? It’s been a year since…you know? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—“
Neuvillette cuts you off by gently placing his lips on yours, interlocking eagerly. They’re warm and soft like a fireplace as they melt away the frost from your body. You reciprocate easily once you get over the initial shock, wrapping your hand around his neck to bring him in closer.
When you pull away, you feel a burning sensation in your throat and a tingling feeling in your eyes. You don’t know why, but the kiss makes you want to cry.
Neuvillette doesn’t distance himself either. Instead he places a gentle hand on your back as soon as you nod, pulling you into his affectionate embrace. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, just like you used to do, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
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iconsumeheadcanons · 2 years
Text
oh, also i think sausage should be able to sue grian at the pixlriff's court of justice for inadvertently causing immense psychological affects (like having evil flashbacks and getting sent back to evil dimensions without warning and having to deal with his sweet cryptic dog who keeps telling him things will get worse and worse and worse). i don't care if grian technically isnt at fault, i think he should lose the case because it'd be so fucking funny.
like grian could technically argue that he didnt open the rift because grumbot' is being cryptic about the whole thing, but then another case could be made about grian causing undue emotional stress to grumbot that turned him evil and now he should be charged for child neglect.
also a perfectly opportune time for many friends to sue for trauma caused by the strange death servers he keeps creating and--
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waywardstation · 1 month
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Phione is a small water Pokemon
Phione Akari occasionally sprays around water when she’s upset.
She also wants Ingo to take care of himself more while they search for her body.
Fun idea: whenever Akari believes that Ingo needs a hydration break and drink something she tries to spray some water in his face; specifically in his mouth.
Would be unfortunate if it’s sea water but it would be a nice gesture and obvious enough for Ingo to realize the suggestion.
Also we talked about how Phione constantly has to be on alert because of bird Pokemon but I can see the sun also becoming a bit of a problem for her too. There are a lot of occasions where she hides under Ingos hat.
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All it takes is once or twice, and Ingo never forgets to take a water break again; he’s not very fond of the reminders at all! (The saltwater-in-the-mouth incident would probably be what did it haha)
And yes!! Akari has lots of places to hide both from the hot sun and pesky bird pokemon — under Ingo’s hat, his coat collar or pockets, or sometimes even his own hands.
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Though sometimes if he’s holding her, he isn’t always aware of where she’s ended up hiding by the end of these incidents.
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merakiui · 1 month
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thinking about the stitch event again and,,,,,, alien floyb thoughts are on my mind. orz
alien floyd who escapes his planet to avoid the responsibilities his father is trying to shove onto him. he wants to explore the cosmos, not remain shackled to a single planet. so he steals a ship for himself and takes off into the starry outer space, eventually crash-landing on earth.
alien floyd who camouflages himself to blend into this new environment with its bipedal creatures. walking on two legs is difficult, but he doesn’t give up. perhaps you stumble upon him and help him to your home so that you can check him over for any injuries. he looks so lost and confused, so dazed… you wonder if he’s okay. floyd watches you silently the entire time. you’re…strange. he’s immediately curious.
alien floyd who takes to living alongside you rather quickly. he doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and you were kind enough to let him stay. in return, he helps you where he can. though most of his help is misread. he hunted those pesky birds who sit on the clothesline and chirp every single morning and brought their carcasses to you, awfully proud of himself. now there’s no more noise in the morning! aren’t you happy? :D but you shake your head at him and tell him he can’t just senselessly kill living creatures.
alien floyd who tries to be good for your sake. he’s an alien, so he often forgets his own strength when compared to that of a human’s. (he’s sorry for breaking the tv remote or the window or the coffee maker or the microwave… ;;;;) what’s more is that you don’t know he’s an alien. you just think he’s a human like you. floyd’s not sure he wants to tell you the truth. you’re already such good friends. would you fear him if you knew who he was—that beneath the softness of his human veneer there are predatory features and a strength that could kill you in seconds? so he continues masquerading as a human. it’s safer this way.
alien floyd who finds himself falling for you. he keeps these feelings to himself, mostly. although it’s difficult to truly hide them when he’s so expressive. he can quell monstrous urges for the most part, but he’s certain that if you were to bring home a person and he mistook them for a potential mate…… floyd would kill them. ruthlessly.
alien jade who is somewhat envious, for he had been hoping to escape on his own one day. floyd beat him to it and now he’s stuck having to clean up the mess his twin’s made. >_< so when jade’s given clearance to track him down and he learns floyd’s been cozying up to a particularly cute human on earth……. well, if jade had any apprehensions about leaving for good before he doesn’t anymore. :)
aliens floyd and jade who love their human more than anything. if earth is taken over by their overlord of a father, it’s okay because they’ll keep you safe. <3
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jasmines-library · 4 months
Note
batfam with the youngest robin (prob 12-13) who gets kidnapped by the joker during a mission and a year or so later the joker reveals the kid who is now brainwashed to be the joker jr
i was thinking like maybe how they’d react and maybe that they can rescue y/n and un-brainwash them and like comfort them and stuff
if not that’s fine i don’t mind!!! i can also like explain better if needed lol
The Stranger In The Mirror.
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Note: You guys literally send in the best requests, I took inspo from Batman Beyond where this happens to Tim but I also added my own little twists as always.
Warnings: Torture (graphic), brainwashing, manipulation, drugging, breakdown basically hurt not comfort (poor reader is going through it all in this one.)
Word count: 2.5k
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
“Help! Somebody please!”
You heard the cry before you saw what was happening. A female voice begging desperately for help, pleading for mercy as the two men backed her against the wall of the alley. They stalked towards her menacingly and you could see the way her face contorted with a fear that gripped her so tight as she moved feebly in an attempt to get past the two men. But they were large and between them took up most of the alley so that it was nearly impossible for her to slip past, and even if she did they would be on her in a second. 
Using your grappling hook to secure a line on a nearby railing, you propelled yourself down from the rooftop. Before your feet hit the floor, you took the crooks out with a well placed blow that sent them crumpling to the ground like a sack of flour. Resheathing your hook, you turned to the woman. 
“Are you alright, Miss?”
She smiled, looking at you from under the brim of her hat with an all too familiar smile “Much better now you’re here.”
A brief flash of recognition crossed over your face, obscured by your mask as you realised who those brown eyes belonged to but you had no time to act on it before she hit you on the back of the head. Hard. With a manic laugh. 
“Night night, Birdy.”
~
When you awoke, you were laying on something cold. A piece of metal that you had been bound to by ropes that burned against your wrists and feet as you struggled to free yourself. The table was tilted at an angle that allowed you to squint against your throbbing head to take in your surroundings. The room you were in was well lit and seemed surprisingly sterile given the situation. Strange concoctions of colours that made you grimace hung on the walls and bubbled away in tubes on one of the many workbenches across the room. The tools made your stomach churn. But then you saw him. 
Perched all high and mighty in a chair opposite you the Joker had sprawled himself out across a chair, flashing you one of his sickening, signature grins. 
“Hiya, Birdy!” He stood with glee, making his way over to you with a spring in his step-almost like he was skipping. 
“Why the hell am I here, Joker?” You spat at him, baring your teeth. 
“Can’t a guy just hang out with his favourite vigilante?” He mused, turning away from you as he began organising things on the desk that you couldn’t see, you tugged in the restraints to try and catch a glimpse of them.
“Cut the crap.”
“You all really are no fun.” He rolled his eyes “Not to worry that’ll all change soon when I morph you into the perfect weapon. Me.”
“What?” 
“Well, what’s better than one of me? Two of me. And you little bird, know all the ways to destroy your pesky family.”
“I’m not going to tell you shit.”
He shrugged, turning back to you with a pair of jump leads in hand. “We’ll see.”
Walking towards you with a grin he attached them to the table before reaching towards the dial. You thrashed desperate to break free but the ropes securing you in place allowed no leeway for you to move. When his fingers brushed the dial and the voltage came flooding through the wires, you let out a blood curdling scream. The pain was everywhere as your body arched, twitched and writhed against the rope. It burned at your skin, drawing blood and forming blisters against your wrists and your ankles. When the current finally stopped and you fell slack against the restraints your diaphragm jerked and spluttered against each pain filled gasp. 
“Are you ready to talk now?”
~
They realised very quickly that you were missing. You hadn’t returned home after your patrol. They tried not to let the worry get the best of them, but this was Gotham. They waited, watching the seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours, but there was no sign of you. You were gone. 
Everyone was on high alert. For three, agonising weeks they searched every inch of Gotham, using every possible connection they had but no one found any leads. Tim was growing frustrated, hacking into every database he could find as Bruce and the other boys scoured the city. But you were gone without a trace. That was until one tedious Wednesday morning, the batcave received an urgent call. 
~
Your head was fuzzy. Whatever the Joker had dozed you with this time was really taking a toll on you. 
Your head hung low resting against your chest as you breathed slowly, trying to push away the fuzziness in your brain. Your entire body had grown numb; now too used to the pain it had been put through, too weak to hold yourself up as you lay slack against the table and although all dosed up now you may not be able to feel anything, you would never be able to forget the endless torment he had put you through; that would forever be etched into your mind. 
The screams still seemed to ricochet off of the walls, burying themselves into each crack just to resurface once it went quiet. The feeling of your skin being torn apart still lingered, the pinch followed by the burn as the Joker slashed you with his weapons, screaming at you to tell him all that you knew about Batman. Of course, you refused at first. Oh how you were so brave trying to hold your tongue. But you couldn’t help the screams that ripped from your mouth and left your throat raw and soon when they layers of your mind had been peeled away by the cruel hallucinations he put you through with his serums and his words, you soon began to crack; your fragile body unable to take anymore of this torture. 
Your wrists had been burnt red raw; the trails of blood tracked down your arms and mixed with dirt and blood, showing where it had beaded down your forearms as you struggled. Burned with tears your anguish was clear amongst your struggle and you were pretty sure that you had at least three broken ribs and four missing fingernails. Maybe more. 
But you were growing to like the pain somewhat. Because it meant that you were still alive. It meant that your family was on your way…or… had they stopped looking for you. 
The Joker's cruel words rang through your hazy mind. He had told you about the video he had sent to them. How there was no response. They didn’t care. None of them did or you would have been home right now. He had injected you with something as he said it, but you swatted off the prick of the needle as though it were a pesky mosquito bite. 
“Soon,” He told you as the drug settled into the numbness of your body. “You will realise that I am helping you. That I am the only one that cares for you. Not Batman. Not any of those pesky Birds. Me.” he hovered in the doorway just before he left. “I’ll be back, Junior.” Junior.  He had stopped calling you by your name recently. 
And as much as you didn’t want to agree with the man who had put you and your family through so much…you were beginning to believe it. The Joker had dragged you away from a life cycle of patrol and ending crimes. He was giving you a place to stay when your family had so clearly given up on you. The Joker had confided so much in you in your time together that you felt like you almost knew him personally. And it had made you think that… he was misunderstood. Lonely. Much more similar to you than- 
No.
No. No. No. You shook the thoughts from your head. ‘They’re coming.’ you told yourself. ‘But…’
Your mind was fighting itself now, conflicted between what you knew and what you were being told. Fighting between your family and the man who stood constantly before you.  It fought until one side finally inched free and you realised something. 
The Joker. 
The Joker was right. He was helping you. 
When he returned to you that night, you greeted him with a dumb smile. He was  glad to see that his plan had worked. That he had broken you down enough to mould you into exactly what he wants. 
He grinned manically. He could now move onto phase two: training you to kill The Bat. This stage would be considerably easier. You already knew Batman’s weaknesses; you had admitted that during one of the electroshock sessions. He just had to convince you that Batman was the real enemy. The only thing left to do besides that was lure him over to you. Which should’ve been easy enough.
~
Tim shot up from his seat the moment your face flashed up on the screen. Somehow, someone had overridden the computer’s controls and he was now staring at your bloodied and beaten face lolling against a metal table. 
“Bruce!” Tim cried, scrambling to grab the attention of his father. 
Bruce had never moved faster across the cave than he did to reach Tim, his stomach dropping when he saw the screen, with him came the rest of his sons who too were alerted by the shout. 
Tim didn’t have to say anything else as they all gathered around to look queasily at the screen. You weren’t moving as the live stream played and this only worried your family more, but then an all too familiar green hair came into frame walking towards you menacingly. 
Bruce felt sick when he saw you flinch and try to squirm away from the Joker’s touch. 
“Smile for the camera.” He said, gripping your hair so that they could see your face. You blinked slowly permanent tears scarring your face amongst the blood and dirt. 
“I hope you’re watching Batsy. You’re about to see the end of your little bird.”
Dick, who bit his lip anxiously as he observed instinctively gripped Damians shoulders and tried to push him away as the Joker reached for the dial again. They saw your body react despite its weakened state; legs kicking and trying as you tried to scramble away. But Damian refused to leave, especially when his little sibling was in this state. It was horrific, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the screen so he watched shell shocked. That was until your first scream cut through all of them and he turned away. Dick pulled him close as he screwed his eyes shut and Jason clenched his fists. 
“Tim.” Bruce ordered “Turn it off. Find a signal.”
“I’m trying.” He said “But…there is no signal and something is overriding the controls.”
Bruce ran his hands through his hair until after an agonising few minutes, your screams stopped. 
The Joker moved swiftly for a syringe which you didn’t even react to as he injected it into your system. Not good. 
“They’re not coming for you, birdy. They don’t care.” The Joker taunted before turning back towards the camera. With one manic laugh he gave a final bow and the signal fizzled out. 
The five of them stood there in complete silence. All silent. Most angry. Most heartbroken. 
“Suit up. We don’t stop until we find them.”
~
By the time the vigilantes arrived, you were ready. Poised on the top floor of Arkham’s abandoned asylum cafeteria. 
You had seen Batman arrive, sauntering furiously into the open room to where Joker had positioned himself. You had seen the other four sneak in too, wrapping themselves around the room and slinking throughout the asylum in search of you. 
Once Joker had riled up the Bat enough to send him on a chase to him around a loop of the asylum, you jumped down from the bannister with a conniving grin. 
“I know you’re all in here.” You laughed. And soon, one after the other your brothers appeared from the shadows gawping at the stark contrast of your appearance. You were skinnier and clearly injured from head to toe, but what struck them the most was the purple and green that the Joker had donned you in. 
“R…” Red hood warned as he stepped toward you. “We don’t wanna hurt you. We just want to take you home.”’
You raised your weapon. “Liar!”
“No kid. We wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.” Red Robin said.
“You left me. You didn’t come back for me and you left me here to rot!” You gritted your teeth.
“That’s not true. That’s the joker talking.” Damian.
“He is helping me! He is helping me reach my full potential- I am already so much more than I was before.”
You raised the pistol. It was loaded and you knew that it would do damage. That was the intention. And that's what you were going to do. You were going to take them out one by one until they get what they deserve-
“R…” Dick said as you raised the gun your finger inching towards the trigger. “You know us Little Wing. We’re your big brothers.”
You moved swiftly, dodging them as they moved closer in sync. One of them reached out to try and grab you, but you gripped his arm and threw him over your shoulder. The five of you tussled until everything paused when Batman burst back into the room. 
Your gun was pointed at him in an instant, locking in on him as you readied your stance and poised your finger on the trigger. no one said anything. No one even dared to breathe. Bruce just looked at you from behind his cowl as you grinned at him, sickeningly mirroring the villain who appeared behind him sending him keeling to the ground. You laughed. 
“Do it.” Joker urged. 
But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Your hand trembled as you looked down at him pleading at you. He looked so…vulnerable. And your mind screamed at you. Wrongwrongwrong. You were torn again. This was Bruce…your father. Your family. Your enemy- 
“Do it, Junior.” He pressed. Your lip trembled. 
Do it. No. Do it-  You wanted to scream. 
“R.” Batman uttered one single letter.
You pulled the trigger. No one moved. A cry of pain rang out across the room. The Joker dropped to the floor.
You let out a sob and dropped to your knees realisation catching up on you. A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you to their chest as you completely broke down. 
“It’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. We’ve got you now.”
Everything hurt. Everything was so disgustingly wrong. You had tried to kill Bruce- you had given away your secrets… you let out an unholy sob.
“Shh.” Jason cooed. “It’s okay. You didn’t mean it.”
“Everyone is okay, Little wing.” Damian promised, taking your bloodied hand gently and tracing circles across the back of it. “We can fix this…”
Batfam Taglist:
@aestheticdaisies
@hell-o-kittys
@xxrougefangxx
276 notes · View notes
rainbowsillz · 8 months
Text
“ Dating? As if they would let this continue on.. ”
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Warnings: Possessiveness, toxic relationship, blood mentioned.
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***
⤷ Summary: A story where you fell for another individual. They have been pining for you in months and yet you went ahead on and chose someone else?
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RIDDLE will not have this. He reckoned himself as a sensible, humble, model student in this fine college. That so-called-impertinence of yours, he'll skin it out, if it's a freshman under his rule? He will make it a living hell, and he won't forget about you either! Did you think he's merciful? Correct that thought immediately because the queen isn't magnanimous. His staff marred with a deep shade of red liquid, his frigid gaze swept at the motionless form beside his feet, not bothering to look down for any longer. He knows you're watching, so pay close attention to it.
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LEONA laughed at the absurdity. Are you asking him to get rid of a pesky rival for you? If yes, that 'darling' of yours will disappear very soon by the end of the day. He wouldn't hesitate to erase the source of his troubles, and besides what can the headmaster try with him, huh? It wasn't as if that bird man took anything firmly, not like he gives a crap to those pitiful morons in here. The moment he laid eyes on you, it's inevitable, you should admit it. Humans can adapt, no matter in any direction or circumstances. So let him spell it out for you. You are his, you belong to him.
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AZUL was undeniably devastated. So he wasn't enough for you? Why not him? How could you?! If he can't have you, no one will. He can guarantee that fact. When he's anguished, it eventually manifests into peevishness, he won't kill the said lad, no, he can do a lot more than that. With pulling a few strings behind the scenes, you'll be crawling to him in no time and imploring him to stop whatever plotting he has with your lover, and he can! It's remarkable truly— to the things he would go for you. For your precious signature that is. And don't keep him waiting for you.
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KALIM was clearly saddened by it. You broke him. Unfortunately for you, that has him more determined than ever. The lines he tread were condemnable, wicked, it mortified him that he will use a tactic on you. He doesn't want to openly harm a normal member in Scarabia. That is in his dormitory, no more, no less. Coercion won't be ideal when it comes to inducement with you. He has that beloved of yours missed the events, dates, and several more meetings with you. You'll be fed up from this, no matter what logical excuses your partner has for you. Then you'll pick him.
409 notes · View notes