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#and that was written only what. 20 years ago?
vickyvicarious · 1 year
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Thanks to y'all I finished the Marsh Masterpiece and you weren't exaggerating and, as you had pointed out, it sucks at depicting the aftermaths of assault (among the things that made my Syrian ass sigh as much as every other anti-middle eastern propaganda shit out there) bc it handles trauma so bizarrely? Holt is tortured by the caricature, and upon seeing Paul L who he admired react with terror about that same caricature, he proceeds to lose respect for him for being unmasculine. Paul proceeds to care about his kidnapped fiancee's state of purity above all. Marjorie is attacked by the bug in her own bed and her reaction to Holt's fear of the same bug is contempt. There was a rife opportunity there for exploration, like how shared trauma between lovers affects their relationship. Look at how the once meek and scared Harker forsakes his soul if his love is forsaken, how he called the vampires devils of the pit and now chooses to share a bed with a devil, or how the once bubbly and confident in her goodness Mina asks him to vow to brutalize her and internalizes her Fallen state as deserving. Boom, cause and effect- the villain has irreversibly changed them and their relationship and we see how they deal with that. With the Beetle, what was even the point?
The saddest thing about this is that it reminds me of how much HAS NOT changed in media depicting assault. It's for so many times JUST for shock value and/or demonization of a group of people. Modern police dramas and fantasy series are notoriously bad about this, though not just them. But yeah, great to know that people always loved sexplotation crap...
First of all: I sincerely apologize for my part in getting you to read the entirety of this book. (said jokingly, but also a little bit not, haha)
And YEAH, everything you said is so right. There's not just a weird handling of trauma, but this bizarre disconnect between all the characters. None of them have empathy for one another, even when the source of their fear/trauma is literally the exact same person (though 'caricature' is in many ways a better word, not like the Beetle gets much personality outside of a bunch of racist stereotypes in a trenchcoat), most of the time even via them acting in the same ways. And so the result is this story where none of the characters really connect with one another in a meaningful way. That's definitely not the only problem, but - as I saw in a meta from @animate-mush earlier today - in The Beetle, things just seem to happen to the characters, and the horror is more about their helplessness. In Dracula, the characters feel and do things all the time! Often, those aren't the right feelings or actions, or the characters wind up feeling like they're participating in the evil, thus fostering that horror of complicity. But in this book, our ongoing jokes that nothing anyone does affects the plot at all are... not really jokes, they're pretty true. If all the POV characters had done nothing at all, the Beetle still would have hypnotized someone else to steal Paul Lessingham's letters, still would have terrorized/kidnapped Marjorie, and still would have died in the train crash (setting aside the sequel-bait "or did they live after all...?" moment). Not only did they do very little in the first place, what they did was irrelevant. I guess you can say that ties into the theme of the horror, but, ehhhh.
And again, you are absolutely correct about the missed opportunity for conflict/growth between the couple. They spend almost no time together outside of flashbacks, and don't confide in one another at all, let alone explore their changed relationship. But also, to zoom out from just them... for a novel which is at least 70% people telling one another stories about what happened to them, no one actually reacts to those stories very much. In Dracula, Jonathan's diary provokes strong reactions in everyone who reads it, and directly/very importantly informs their next actions. Mina's account of Whitby gives Van Helsing the push to start the hunt for vamped!Lucy, and Seward's records give the clue that Renfield is connected to Dracula in some way. Even the Captain of the Demeter's log, read after his death, gives added context to the hunt and helps set them on their box chase which is of vital importance. The characters not only tell each other their stories - and write letters, and look up records - but they are changed and brought closer by the sharing of their experiences. The whole process is a unifying one.
The Beetle doesn't do any of that. After hearing Holt's account, Marjorie and Sydney unsympathetically take him to revisit the source of his trauma. Sydney, despite knowing she's telling the truth, tries to dismiss Marjorie the entire time she's talking to him. Champnell privately judges Paul Lessingham throughout his story. Marjorie and Paul don't really talk at all! Even when all of the characters come together for the final chase, they spend half the time talking over/insulting/arguing with one another. Both because they haven't all shared information fully in the first place, and because none of them have been changed or emotionally affected too much by one another's stories. The whole book reminds me of this excerpt from a critical essay about Dracula where the author claimed that there's a horrible bitter rivalry between all the suitors and their proclamations of love and friendship are lies. It's the worst bad faith interpretation of the text... and one Richard Marsh, seemingly, would have looked at and went "let's make that canon!"
Finally... it really is sadly true how little some things have changed. I mean, certainly, you can find a lot of much better depictions of trauma and aftermath (and companionship and less racism and better writing and-) nowadays. But equally, you can find plenty, scads upon scads, of the same kind of awful tropes as Marsh used (I can easily come up with some common ones in police detective shows especially). Maybe the worst part is that they can normalize terrible associations/expectations in a casual audience without them even realizing. And even in more nuanced stories, lots of people have very reductive interpretations. (See: the above mentioned Dracula essay. Or any of the many Dracula adaptations that claim to be more feminist or something while playing into just as bad and in some cases worse tropes as the original.) In a lot of ways, many of our modern tropes and interpretations around race/sex/gender/etc. are often not any more enlightened than Victorian ones were. Not always, of course! But more than enough.
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youremyonlyhope · 26 days
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Every day I am more and more upset I didn’t write that research paper on parasocial relationships in social media a whole decade ago.
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firendgold · 10 months
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If you're still doing the choose violence ask game: 2 (👀), 9, 10, 22 ?
I got such a rush from finally answering the first ask that I'm doing this for as long as people send me questions. So here we go again!
2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom
anon, I'm at work. I'm seeing this at work. :'D
Okay, serious face. Albus Dumbledore is probably my fave if I have to choose between him and Harry on this blog. I just have to figure out why he would never...
Bottom. Albus would never, I'm sorry. He won't. He can't. Like, maybe when he was having his whirlwind summer romance with Gellert, he bottomed every single time they fucked because he was so in love and this was his equal and his partner and so what if he was a little rough and distant sometimes in the bedroom, and always wanted to top and tug his hair and hiss out orders? This was The Man The Universe Had Crafted For Him, and he would absolutely bottom for him every time... and then the summer of 1899 ends. And Ariana dies. And Aberforth breaks Albus' nose. And Gellert fucks off to go be a fascist.
And Albus, alone and heartbroken, resolves to never trust someone that completely again, never love someone that same way, and never let anyone get into a position of power over him where they might be able to use his knowledge and talents for ill. That means physically, emotionally, spiritually, psychologically... carnally. So he has sex with plenty of other people, and even falls in love with a few of them, but he is in control at all times. He never bottoms again.
That's all I've got for that one.
9. worst part of canon
So the first answer that came to mind is posted here, but for fairness' sake I'll try to come up with another worst thing. (That's not related to ships, because I'm trying really hard not to be THAT violent on the violence ask game.)
I think... that if That Woman was going to introduce international schools, students and characters in the middle book of the series, she should have done more with them than having them vanish after Goblet of Fire, only to come back for either fake romantic tension and one line of exposition about the Hitler allegory Dark Lord of the Before-Times (Krum, Deathly Hallows) or to be married off to a Weasley for an aesop of It's Not About His Looks Now That They're Jacked Up (Fleur, Half-Blood Prince). I'm not saying Fleur and Viktor HAD to be best buddies forever with Harry, but it is weird that they have this unique bond that no other young students have had with each other in hundreds of years, they even lost one of their fellow champions, Dumbledore gives this very moving speech about remaining connected and not letting darkness and prejudice sever new ties, and then... nothing. No side adventures in France or wherever Durmstrang is, no communication from either side, nothing.
Feels like a huge letdown in hindsight.
10. worst part of fanon
Oh, no. That's not fair. There's just so many.
If I had to consolidate what I currently don't like about the HP fandom/fanon into a few lines, I think I would say that I hate the pureblood/Dark side apologism. I do believe in nuance in characters. I do believe redemption and/or walking different paths is an important theme in Harry Potter, and I think it's fascinating to explore that with any and every character you can think of, even characters I may not personally like. But I really, really hate the way the fandom has taken that and twisted it into this idea that we were sold a lie at the start: that the British magical government was fine the way it was, and so was the society around it; that Dark magic Isn't All That Bad, Really, and there are actually Good and non-prejudiced things about a few rich bitches passing down their knowledge and secrets and slurs for generations within the Family, and keeping the Family "Pure" is cool actually, and none of this has any relation to real life ideas about miscegenation and classism and racism and eugenics, what are you talking about?
It's just so worrying. As a minority, when I see people on tumblr/twitter/AO3 gleefully agreeing that we need to eat the rich and fix society and eradicate all the horrid -isms and -archys ruining all our lives, then watch them turn around and write a 200k epic where Dumbledore was the evil one for locking the Horcrux books away and championing marginalized members of society, Hermione is just uppity for wanting to make necessary changes to the darker parts of magical society that That Woman was literally pointing out for a reason, and Tom Riddle is only bad because he took the good segregationist pureblood ideas and added murder to them... and when that fic gets thousands of comments agreeing with them full stop with no examination of any of that... it makes me anxious, at a minimum. The same thing is happening now with Grindelwald now that he's actually a figure on the screen and not just some dude mentioned a few times in the book series: same apologism, same justification of atrocities, same good-guy-blame-games, same blorbofication even.
On the one hand... fiction doesn't always directly reflect or affect reality. On the other... this unironic pro-pureblood meta is a pervasive concept that has popped up in thousands of fics written by thousands of fanfic writers. It's happened for years, and it keeps happening, and I see very few fans speaking out against it or even acknowledging it as a problem. So that makes me ask myself, who actually is willing and able to examine the injustices of our society and build a better imaginary society through the lens of HP fanfiction, and who's okay with the prejudice in the HP world as long as it's coming from the faves they're attracted to?
22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores
Happily, this is a harder question to answer because I've been finding so many like minds in the past 5 years who go feral over the same 20 HP scenes as I do. ^^ But give me a sec, I'll think of something.
...
Okay. Got it.
In order to answer this question, I have to go back to the first time I, young teenager, avid reader, recent reader of the HP series once book 5 was out, realized that Harry and Dumbledore had a much deeper relationship than just headmaster and student. The thing that made me latch on to them and project like crazy, basically.
It's the scene in Goblet of Fire chapter 36 where Harry has been rescued from Fake Moody and he's in Dumbledore's office with Dumbledore and Sirius. Dumbledore asks Harry to relay everything that happened to him once he touched the Portkey in the maze—and immediately Sirius tries to protect Harry from having to relive it now, so soon after it's happened. And then this scene happens.
Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry, who avoided his eyes. Dumbledore was going to question him. He was going to make Harry relive everything. “I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “We can leave that till morning, can’t we, Dumbledore?” said Sirius harshly. He had put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Let him have a sleep. Let him rest.” Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius’s words. He leaned forward toward Harry. Very unwillingly, Harry raised his head and looked into those blue eyes. “If I thought I could help you,” Dumbledore said gently, “by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened.” The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Harry felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down his throat into his stomach, warming him, and strengthening him. He took a deep breath and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; he saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; he saw Cedric’s body, lying on the ground beside the cup. Once or twice, Sirius made a noise as though about to say something, his hand still tight on Harry’s shoulder, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him, and Harry was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going now he had started. It was even a relief; he felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from him. It was costing him every bit of determination he had to keep talking, yet he sensed that once he had finished, he would feel better.
This is one of the best scenes in the entire book, the entire series. It completely refutes the fanon Dumbledore who is often cold, cruel, inflexible and unrelenting in his quest for whatever the author wants him to be inflexible and cruel about at the time. It shows that Dumbledore, the real Albus Dumbledore, is one of the few people who understands what Harry needs and is able to provide it to him, even when others who also care for Harry would rather protect him or shield him from what he needs.
Kid me was particularly taken by how gentle Dumbledore is with Harry here. It made me look back and see how in some ways this scene, this closeness, is the culmination of all the times they've met and spoken before.
(You can imagine how painful it was reading Order of the Phoenix right after this.)
But yeah, that's probably one of my favorite scenes that other people ignore or haven't talked about/drawn/written about much. Which is ironic, because the scene right after that where Harry talks about Voldemort taking his blood and Dumbledore's eyes do the triumphant "lol Voldemort just fucked up" gleam is probably one of THE most talked-about scenes in the fandom (even though to this fucking day in 2023 people still don't realize what the gleam meant, when even That Woman has clarified what it meant in INTERVIEWS).
...And for me, safely at the end of the questions, that's all she wrote.
#fireandgoldposts#thanks for the ask!#choose violence ask game#Albus Dumbledore#not y'all making me put more gr*ndeld*re on this blog :') I forgive you tho#it's my own fault for having that headcanon. and to think I didn't think I'd be able to answer that question#I'm poking a real bear by finally talking about how much I hate the pureblood politics/pureblood supremacy/misunderstood bad guys trifecta#another thing that was perhaps interesting 20 years ago when people first started doing it but is now stale and infuriating#since it's now seen as fact and not fiction#the fiction of fiction even#I can't believe I didn't just write ''the worst part of fanon is every independent!Harry/manipulative!Dumbledore fanfic ever written#that's growth for me#oh god the worst part about no expanded roles for Fleur and Krum is that most fans only give Fleur an extended role#when they're SHIPPING HER WITH HARRY as some kind of ''ooh foreign beauty'' thing where he naturally resists her allure#and oh my god here comes the nausea again because flowerpot is another ship that's been done to death the very same way haphne/wolfstar has#and I love Krum/Hermione as much as the next person but fanon Krum is like NEVER allowed to move on from Hermione unless he's gay/bi#which is VERY rare to see. like please give me Harry/Krum fanfic recs if you have them#or Ron/Krum because that is so narratively satisfying#honorable mention for question 22 would probably go to the scene where Hermione and Ron try to get Harry to go to Dumbledore in year 5#after they find out what Umbridge is doing to him in detention and Harry just. CAN'T. properly explain why he doesn't want to go#but he's thinking about how Dumbledore has ''ignored him since last June'' and it's one of the few times we see him acknowledge that hurts#he mentions it several times throughout the book in his thoughts but that's one of the first times he refuses help from Albus#even though Albus would help him in a heartbeat oh my GOD it's been like 20 years since that book came out and I'm still feral about those#Goblet of Fire#Fleur Delacour#Viktor Krum#pureblood propaganda#and how much I am anti-that lmao#not fireandgold#oh my god having to reformat this every 3 hours because the bolds and italics won't stick is a fucking NIGHTMARE
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djemsostylist · 2 years
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Okay, so controversial opinion, but the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings movies were absolutely terrible. Particularly as adaptations. Like, completely butchered characters and theme in every way that mattered. But they also played a huge role in my childhood/teens, and it makes me feel some type of way.
Like many, I was young when the LotR movies came out, and like many, they fill me with warm feelings of nostalgia. I still feel something when I hear the Breaking of the Fellowship, I still feel soft when I hear Concerning Hobbits. I still love Arwen's dresses, and the Ride of the Rohirrim still gives me a rush. That Jackson pulled off something previously thought undoable goes without saying. And many of the elements were fantastic. The costumes, most of the armor, many of the set pieces, the music. Watching Fellowship will always make me feel warm.
But that doesn't excuse the fact that, no matter how warm and safe those movies make you feel, they were terrible adaptations. The mere fact that they didn't include the Scouring of the Shire shows that they completely misinterpreted the entire theme and purpose of the story. Add to that making Aragorn and Gandalf the main characters (they gave Aragorn this entirely weird and unnecessary story arc because he didn't really have one in the books, which is like yeah, because he is not the main character and we are already at the end of his story), the fact that they spent the entirety of the Two Towers on Helm's Deep and the way they turned most of the "creeping horror" scenes into "let's drop 80 billion skulls from the ceiling bc it's spooky right" and I'd argue it's hard to disagree that the films pretty much butchered LotR.
Now, bear in mind that I'm not saying you shouldn't like them. I suspect that most people who love them do so for two reason (or both)--either they bring up warm memories of a younger you experiencing the joy of a beloved story come to life on screen and the viewing of them now evokes warm feelings, or it was baby's first fantasy (like the absolutely atrocious Game of Thrones for many a modern watcher) and it was just like wow. Whatever the reason, liking the movies isn't inherently a bad thing. As I've said many a time before--just because you like a bad thing doesn't make it a character flaw against you. But, and this is important, even Tolkien would agree that the Jackson movies were terrible adaptations--and we know this from letters written before his death, where he literally (and perhaps somewhat presciently) described scenes and adaptation choices he disagreed with (many of which mirror choices Jackson made verbatim--for example, he describes one script he read with the Weathertop scene (a near exact replica of Jackson's, only many, many years before) and how it completely butchers the tone and feeling he was trying to evoke. He also says that if pressed for time, removing Helm's Deep would be acceptable, bc it's sort of a skippable battle that could likely just be mentioned in passing to focus on the parts that matter.)
So whether or not you like the trilogy is sort of irrelevant. Your liking of it doesn't mean it was good. And to be clear, I still enjoy watching watching. I found most of his choices (casting, costuming, music) to be solid (though there are a few casting headscratchers) but his characterization is mostly awful, as are his changes. But I would never claim "this feels like Tolkien" because it fundamentally does not. Just read Book 1 of Lord of the Rings, and the difference is already astounding, tonally. And that is to say nothing of the way the themes of the story are sort of universally thrown aside.
But lately the primary comments I have seen from people who ~loved~ Rings of Power are three-fold: either people are haters bc they miss the PJ version of Middle-Earth, people are haters because they are racist incel men, or that haters don't matter bc the good Sir John Tolkien himself would have cried in rapturous glee to see his works so loving captured and beautifully rendered onscreen. And they are all wrong.
Look, are there racists who hate it? I mean yeah I have no doubt, but I'll also say that as someone who has been following this disaster from the get go, I find far more people talking about evil racists than...actual racist remarks. I'm not saying they don't exist (those sort of people certainly do) but I also think it was a way of shutting down haters "people only hate bc they are racist". Are there people who are disappointed that they didn't deep fake Young Huge Weaving a la Tony Stark and make him play younger Elrond whilst hiring a virtually unchanged Cate Blanchett to reprise her role while they flitted around in long wigs and velvet gowns? I'm almost certain.
But by and large, I think people who are "haters" are haters bc either it was crappily done, or are haters because, and this is important, it's not Tolkien. It's a fanfic of a fanfic, and a poorly done one at that. It's an AU if Middle Earth was a DnD land.
Rings of Power (love it or hate) is an abysmal adaptation of Tolkien. And it's not just because they don't have rights to 98% of what they need to make this story viable, it's because once again, they fundamentally do not understand the underlying theme and vibes of Tolkien. Galadriel not being a Commander is important. The Hobbits (I know they are Harfoots, fuck off, they should be Fallowhides anyway per the source material they actually do have the rights to) are not. Gandalf if not even a minor player, Celeborn is a major one. Sauron isn't a spooky serial killer haunting their dreams (although given they have no rights to Annatar I guess Steve the gym rat serial killer was the best choice). Elves keeping humans in permanent open air prison camps for generations never happened. Elrond would not have been dismissed from any council for not being a lord (given, you know, his parentage), Gil-Galad could never have even offered Galadriel a chance to the return to the homeland, and Findrod died in defense of Beren. Also, you know, the second age wasn't about funny sit-com dwarves (a truly bizarre interpretation that everyone loves but I can't figure out where it comes from since Tolkien dwarves are not even close to being comedic buffoons), bird's nest wearing hobbit types, and weirdly blond Elrond being an architect and gal pals with his future mother in law.
So you can like it, it can make you feel all warm and fuzzy and yadda yadda, but please, for the love of god, stop trying to claim it feels like Tolkien. "Oh they used flowerly language" okay, so did Spartacus but I'm not out here claiming that Claudius Glaber made me think about Fingolfin. This is not, and will never be Tolkien. This is an antithesis of quite literally everything he would have imagined for this. Stop trying to justify liking it with fabricated claims. If you like it, like it, but lying to yourself helps no one. I've said this before (and I realize the irony coming on the heels of a post entirely about justifying why I hate something but you know)--not everything has to be justified. Maybe you watched RoP and it made your heart tingle. Maybe you watched it and made you want to vomit. (The latter seems more likely). But Tolkien it aint, and I think that people have a right to feel justifiably upset at what they did to the material, to the fact that this show is clearly a part of a larger Hollywood thinktank designed to print money and generate talking points, and worry about the long term impact on public perception of Tolkien. Because, and again, perhaps this is a controversial opinion, but the vast majority of people are going to know Tolkien via the movies, not the books. I literally know someone who was doing a podcast about their favorite stories and did an entire episode about Lord of the Rings, but only the movies because they had never been able to get through the books. That is a problem because while the books will always be there, public perception and knowledge of them will always be superseded by the alternate public perception. The Jackson Trilogy is proof of that.
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therealbeachfox · 3 months
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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.
It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.
To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.
This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.
Join me below, if you would.
2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.
Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.
It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.
But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.
The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.
“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”
“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”
We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.
"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?
The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.
We had slightly miscalculated.
Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.
“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”
“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”
“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”
“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”
And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.
00000
We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.
It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.
At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.
Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.
So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.
“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.
“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.
Monday is the last day to do this, after all.
00000
So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.
The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.
“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”
So.
Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?
Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.
It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).
Then it starts to rain.
We had not dressed for rain.
00000
Here is how the next six hours go.
We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.
Everyone is so happy.
Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.
People online start making delivery orders.
Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.
A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.
The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.
A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.
Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.
00000
We have Line Neighbors.
Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.
The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.
Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”
“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”
“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”
My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.
“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.
“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”
We stay in line.
It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.
The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.
We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.
It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.
They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.
We still have a -long- way to go.
00000
They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.
It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”
We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.
We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.
I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.
The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.
Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.
The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.
A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“
The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”
We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.
If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.
That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.
There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.
We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)
I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.
There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.
Then we're married.
Then we get in line to get our license.
It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.
Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.
We make it to the marriage records office.
I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.
It's almost 3PM.
00000
There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.
We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.
I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”
He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.
Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.
We get back to our car and climb in.
It’s 4:30 and we are starving.
There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.
We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.
We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.
The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.
My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”
00000
It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”
But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.
It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.
I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.
We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.
Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.
It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.
Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"
And that was that.
00000
When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.
I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.
I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.
I never thought I’d live in this world.
And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.
I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.
The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.
And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.
18K notes · View notes
shuaflix · 9 months
Text
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
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
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she's the man * vr dts special
what does netflix have to say about the first and only woman to make it on the grid in almost 2 decades?
warnings: danica patrick jumpscares
notes: hi im procrastinating my assignment that's due tomorrow so i'm making this for you guys <3 and this is so...? poorly written is what i'm trying to say bye
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[will buxton] there is a new team on the grid: andretti's appeal to be the 11th team on the grid was approved early last year. there was a lot of talk about who they could hire in their driver lineup. nobody expected sebastian vettel, who literally just retired from being an f1 driver, to be stepping into the shoes of a race engineer. and to take a chance on a rookie driver...
what did you want me to say? she looks down at the clapperboard that's been handed over to her, lifting it up and down as she tries to ease her nervousness. [producer] introduce yourself first and we'll take it step by step from here. she nods and presses her lips together with a smile. hi. i'm driving for andretti racing for the 2023 season and i am the first female on the grid in almost 20 years.
[sebastian vettel] i... you know, i realised i have nothing to do if i don't race. so i took up the job with one exception – they allow a rookie into the team.
-> bahrain, 2023
she smiles, tapping her card onto the reader. she just waves at the crew ahead of her, cameras held up and lenses pointed directly at her as she walks alongside logan and oscar.
i'm a little nervous, of course – i didn't think i'd get this far. in all honestly, i thought f2 was the furthest i'd get when it came to racing. but i'm lucky. sebastian is taking a big gamble putting me in an f1 car this year.
[danica patrick] a woman in f1? i don't expect that will go well overall. does she even have the aggressiveness to be driving alongside these men who, for them, things like these come naturally.
-> abu dhabi, 2022
"well, would you look at that? the sole woman on the grid has made it to the podium. and that would," there's a pause from crofty, taking a deep breath as a smile spreads his lips, "award her as a runner-up in the drivers' championship slightly ahead of liam lawson. she's driven amazing all year round and it's just a wonder if she will ever make it further than formula 2 if she can produce these results at this level of racing."
[susie wolff] she's amazing behind the wheel. toto and i have watched a couple of her races over the years. it's an experience to have her around every weekend beside big household names like lewis hamilton and max verstappen. if her team can give her a good enough car to produce massive results, or she outperforms everyone's expectations this year, it could be very telling for the sport. and it sure opens a lot of opportunities for new generations of racers to come.
[sebastian vettel] well, she produces the results you'd want in a race car driver. i'd like to change the course of things around here, so there was no question that i'd vouch for her to get in a car with the best of the best. she's been in an f1 car before – with haas a while ago – so there's really not much worry about how she'll do this year. she just needs a good car to start.
[claire williams] nothing wrong with taking a chance on a rookie. but as a new team in the sport, you'd want to prove to everyone that you fought rightfully so for your spot as a new addition to the pitlane.
-> bahrain, 2023
she stands at the back of the garage. the camera zooms into the girl toying with the neckline of her fireproofs. she presses her lips together as sebastian talks to her. "so you're starting p18 tomorrow."
"oh." she looks down at the ground and purses her lips together. "well i told you: the car still felt a little difficult in the braking zones earlier. that was the best i could do without burying myself into a barrier."
"yeah, of course. that just means you'll have to work a little extra tomorrow during the race," sebastian grins. he places his hand on her shoulder to shake her gently. "you did your best today. don't even worry about it. you'll come back stronger tomorrow."
"of course. i didn't get this far just to fumble the bag at my first race."
[danica patrick] qualifying p18 as a rookie and as the sole woman in the sport... it's not a good look for either herself or the people who decided to take a chance on her.
"and that's the checkered flag. p11," sebastian says into her ears.
she sighs as she slows the car down for a cool-down lap. she lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. "i could have pushed a little more to get better results. i'm sorry."
"ah, you finished ahead of a lot of people and you climbed 7 places on the track. it's a good first race."
[will buxton] right now, it seems that not everyone is fond of having a woman on the grid. that's very prominent in the fan side of things. but a lot of people are forgetting that she raced with some of the big names that people know today and was on par with them in the results growing up.
[oscar piastri] well, we go way back. you know, growing up karting together and constantly being in competition with one another, i think really encouraged her to stay in the sport. when we moved up to f3 from formula renault, she kinda got left behind to stay. so when i was poached by prema to race into f2, i suggested that they give her a chance.
well, i was up there fighting with oscar and logan, and occasionally liam, for good results during karting races and eventually in formula renault. the only disadvantage i had compared to them was that i'm a girl. you know, growing up, i would constantly be told that i wouldn't get very far cause this is a boy's sport. that really does discourage you from wanting and thinking that i'd get into official leagues, but i owe it to my best friends for pushing me to dream bigger and retain the passion i had for racing.
[logan sargeant] i mean... she kinda did hand me my ass every single time we were out on the track. if that doesn't tell people that she's a good racer, i'm unsure what will.
[zak brown] it was, truthfully, down to her and oscar for who should come in and drive for mclaren. but we weren't sure if the risks to bring her in would be worth it. so we went with the safer option.
[james vowles] i know a couple different teams – i'm definitely not namedropping – who were eyeing her for her performance last year. prema did a very good job marketing her as their driver as well so there's an extra factor. she's lovely.
-> australia, 2023
"oh, andretti's rookie passes the flag ahead of the alpha tauri and puts her in the points!" there's cheering in the grandstands, and nobody can believe their eyes at the results of the purple race car. "you see it here first – she is the first woman, in decades, to score points to formula 1"
"that's p9! there's your first points in formula 1!"
"oh? oh my fucking god! i did it!"
scoring your first points as a formula 1 driver... it's a very big feat as a rookie. but it means even more when you're in my position.
she runs to where sebastian stands, helmet in her hands. she screams as her team erupts in cheers at the sight of her sprinting towards them and she pumps her fists into the air.
"i did it!" she screams, immediately surrounded by the personnel clad in the bright andretti purple. "i scored my first points!"
she's seen in the middle of their makeshift circle, thrown around by her team as they bask in their first achievement in the sport and of the year. she's seen with tears running down her cheeks briefly before sebastian pulls her in for a very tight hug.
"i told you everything will be fine. you just had to be patient, kid."
[sebastian vettel] scoring points alone is already a step in the right direction. now we just need to focus on being consistent race after race.
-> azerbaijan, 2023
"there's a yellow flag here in lap 40. we're waiting to hear who it was caused by," the camera pans to the car head first into the barriers at a turn, "and it seems to be an andretti."
when you crash front first out of a turn, it's like the rudest jumpscare a person could have. it's nothing to do with the car – it was straight up a driver error.
[sebastian vettel] no driver wants to crash their car during a race and then admit to the whole world that it was their fault. especially when you're in her position, you know? the statement she released and choosing to be honest about it being a driver error – it was her decision to handle it that way. personally... he giggles with a smile. i wouldn't have done that.
[will buxton] she only seems to be getting better and better every single weekend.
-> monaco, 2023
"that's another finish in the points, kid. good race. that's p5 for you."
"thank you. the car felt great this weekend."
-> singapore, 2023
"here we have the andretti rookie in her engineer and mentor's arms, on a very historical evening. she has just scored her first podium this weekend at the singapore grand prix."
she jumps as she's in sebastian's arms, her face buried in his chest. she is seen pulling away slightly from him and he grabs her face, "amazing– you were amazing, kid! congratulations!"
tears, again, roll down her cheeks as she nods at his statement. her chest heaves as she cries. "thank you. oh, my goodness. thank you."
"there's no words. just that you were amazing this weekend."
a hand lands on her back. she turns around and covers her face as she fights the biggest grin. "you beat me in f1, mate!"
the australian accent fills her ears as he congratulates her. oscar takes her into his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder as they lock themselves in a tight embrace. he rubs circles on her back. "congrats on the podium, mate."
[danica patrick] now they're in a weird spot. oscar, on one hand, has been backed by mark webber for years. his best friend is racing under sebastian vettel. everybody knows those two don't get along – is it possible that it could reflect on their friendship as well?
-> silverstone, 2023
"overtake available." her andretti, slowly inches towards the mclaren of oscar's up ahead. "whenever you see fit."
"what's the gap?" oscar huffs, head snapping over to his side mirror briefly.
"0.2."
at the next turn, she takes a big lunge on the inside of the track to go ahead of oscar.
"there's a bit of fighting at the midfield here between a mclaren and an andretti. oscar piastri, however, does not let her go. he is still fighting to hopefully finish ahead of her in today's race."
"keep the pace. try to shake oscar off, he's still close behind you."
"noted."
racing on the track with oscar? nothing i haven't done before.
[oscar piastri] she's always been great at keeping up and being a challenging competitor on the track.
[logan sargeant] she's very fast on and off the track. i rarely beat her in racing... so...
"oscar piastri takes the checkered flag behind the andretti, failing to fight with the incredible pace the new car has shown this weekend."
in parc ferme, the girl takes her helmet off, turning around sharply to the man in papaya orange as he lifts himself out of the car. "good fight, mate."
"good fight," oscar smiles. they share a quick hug before the younger girl briefly runs away from him to approach logan further down the lane.
[danica patrick] we've seen what the sport does to friends. it does not matter how long you've been friends – it will eventually catch up to you and everybody involved.
-> austin, 2023
"the andretti finished in p5 and logan sargeant has just been promoted to p10 following the disqualification of charles leclerc and lewis hamilton. oscar, however, retires from the race following a crash with esteban ocon."
i don't beat oscar often – so whenever the rarity comes up, i take it with open arms.
"ah, screw you mate," oscar laughs, throwing his arms around the younger girl once again. "good finish."
she flips her hair as she pulls away and bats her eyelashes. "what can i say? i'm made for formula 1."
[sebastian vettel] they're sweet kids. i don't think there is any animosity between them. they lived together while they karted weekend after weekend. they're used to it... i think.
we've fought about things like these growing up. oh, for sure. we're both the oldest siblings – so the competition never ends between us.
[oscar piastri] she is very competitive. she's only fair when it comes to racing on the track though. everything else, she finds a way to come out on top.
-> oxford, 2023 (winter break)
"i won."
logan turns to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. "no, you didn't."
now stood up, the girl looked down at logan with a mirrored bewildered expression on her face. "yes, i did."
"no," logan repeats with his eyebrows raised, "you did not."
she clenches her jaw. "yes, i did."
"dude." logan turns to look at oscar, sitting across the table from them. their gazes all land on the card that she puts in the middle. "that's a yellow card that you coloured over with red marker. you lost – just admit it."
"what do you mean? that's a legit card." she lifts it up and reveals to the camera a card that's been poorly coloured red with some scratches that reveal the authenticity of the yellow that logan had just pointed out.
[logan sargeant] she's such a sore loser.
-> abu dhabi, 2023
"that's the andretti of the rookie driver crossing the finish line in p4, and that puts her in 6th place in the driver's championship. we might just be at the start of history being made, folks."
[sebastian vettel] what can i say? i'm never wrong with who i place my bets on.
[danica patrick] she proved a lot of people wrong this year, including me. she is an exciting up and coming driver.
she shrugs with a smug grin on her face. oh, i'm here to stay, babes.
andretti has secured her with a multi-year contract with the team – she will be racing under them until 2028.
the clapperboard clicks loudly, a man sits there with a cheeky grin as he stares into the camera. i'm liam lawson and i'm now an andretti race car driver. see you on the track in 2024.
– bonus
"aw, mate! they totally twisted that whole scene up!" she scoffs, throwing a small pillow at the tv screen. "dalton was the one that coloured that uno card in. not me!"
oscar turns to her. "yet you still used it despite the fact that we agreed to not use it in games anymore."
"the game would not have been fair if we were missing one card!"
logan scoffs. "we let you win, anyway."
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scuderiahoney · 5 months
Text
Stick Around
Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader
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Masterlist
Summary: You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, cheating/infidelity (not by a main character I promise) mild swearing, excessive use of italics
|Age 20|
“You can’t seriously still be reading that stuff,” Oscar says.
You peer at him over the top of your magazine.
“What stuff?” You ask, playing innocent.
“Your horoscope,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Haven’t you outgrown that yet?”
You shrug, directing your gaze back to the page in front of you. Today, you should avoid the color pink and embrace your skepticism. Oscar’s doing enough of the last part for the both of you. You could gain a great deal of information from social interactions. That’s helpful- you’ve been in search of some gossip. Your soulmate is just a click away- wait, no, that’s an ad. You huff and set the magazine down on the table. Oscar nods in agreement.
“I just think maybe it’s better to live your life without worrying about what the stars say,” Oscar says, waving his hands around in a way that you think is supposed to represent the stars. “Just, like… do what you want to do.”
“I do,” you mutter dryly. “Doesn’t hurt to have some advice, though.”
The two of you have always been like this. Oscar is a skeptic, you’re a believer. He calls it being easy to brainwash, says it in a teasing way that makes you glare at him every time. He’s taken it as his responsibility to keep you from falling for things. You’ve told him time and time again that you’re fine on your own. You just like the idea of predestiny, that what’s going to happen was always meant to.
Oscar is just worried you’ll join the first cult you cross paths with.
|Age 5|
It’s the day after you turn 5 when you first hear the word soulmate. Sol-meight. You sound it out through your lips, sticky with jam from your breakfast. Your best friend at the time, a girl whose name you’ve long since forgotten, had said it.
“S’when you’re meant to be,” she explains, in that all knowing tone that only little kids who know nothing at all seem to have. “Like, my mum and dad say they’re soulmates.”
Oscar, who’s sitting next to you, scoffs. “Everyone’s parents say that. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”
He’s taller than you, even sitting down, hair cut short after one of his sisters stuck gum in it a few days ago. His cheeks are rosy red, and there’s cream cheese on his nose. Years later, Oscar’s face will be one of the first ones you ever remember meeting. Right now, he’s just the boy in your class whose mother knows your mother, and because of that, he’s the boy who rides to school with you in the backseat. He’s not the worst, you guess. He’s… okay. Sort of just… always there.
“Is too!” Your friend says, shaking her head, pigtails bouncing. “Mum says there’s signs.”
“What kinda signs?” You ask, and Oscar turns to look at you in disbelief.
She shrugs. “Dunno. I’ll ask later.”
She comes back to the breakfast table the next day with a magazine page, torn haphazardly and slightly crumpled. On it is a list of signs someone could be your soulmate. The two of you pore over the page at every available opportunity for at least a week, barely able to read all the words.
Your friend forgets about soulmates a month later and moves on to an obsession with Barbie dolls. You carry the magazine page with you for years after that, until it’s worn and falling apart. Then you copy down the list into a safer place, worried you’ll lose it forever. 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate, written with magic marker on pink construction paper and stowed away in your desk.
|Age 10|
“I hate olives,” you sneer, staring at the very last slice of pizza.
It’s a birthday party. You can’t for the life of you understand why there’s pizza with olives on it. Olives don’t belong on pizza- not much does, in your opinion. Just pepperoni, really. Maybe a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, if you’re feeling fancy.
Katy, one of your classmates, is standing next to you. “I love olives. Here, I’ll pick them off for you and you can have the last slice.”
The pizza still tastes a bit like olives in the end, probably baked into the cheese, but it’s better than it would’ve been. Katy is your best friend after that. The two of you are inseparable from the moment you get to school until the moment you leave. You beg your mothers for sleepovers on the weekends, for day trips during holiday breaks. YouandKaty. Your names melt together until they become one.
Oscar still rides to school with you in the morning. Sometimes, Katy does too. Katy doesn’t like Oscar. She doesn’t like most boys, calls them gross. Since Katy thinks boys are gross, you do too.
“Be nice to Oscar,” your mother tells you one morning. “He’s not done anything to you.”
You’re in the backseat of the car, on the way to his house. “He’s a boy. Boys are gross.”
Your mother sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She says your name sternly, and you shrink in your seat. When Oscar gets in, you say hello and force a smile.
Oscar’s the one who finds you crying on the playground. You thought you’d chosen a better hiding place, really- nobody had bugged you in your spot between the two large myrtle trees. But Oscar finds you anyways. You can’t even bring yourself to tell him to go away, too busy feeling sorry for yourself.
“Wha’s wrong?” He asks.
His cheeks are red- he’s likely been running around with the other boys. You shrug, pulling up another clump of grass and letting it fall from your fingers. Oscar sighs, scuffs his toe in the dirt.
“Katy doesn’t wanna be friends anymore,” you say, rubbing at your bare knee. “She says I’m not cool enough.”
Katy likes olives. You don’t. It’s on the soulmate list. You’re meant to be best friends.
Oscar’s quiet for a moment. Then- “That’s stupid. You’re like, the coolest person I know.”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “Shut up.”
“M’serious,” he says. He holds his hand out to you. “Wanna come play cricket with the gross boys?”
You take his hand, wipe your tears with your other hand. “Yeah. I do.”
|Age 12|
“Are you and Dad soulmates?” You ask your mother one morning, before you even leave the house.
She’s standing at the counter, a piece of toast in her hand, half eaten. Her coffee is half drank, too.
She tilts her head at you. “What do you mean, love?”
“Like, when you met, did you just know he was the one? Did it feel meant to be?”
She laughs. “Oh, god no. We were polar opposites. Barely spoke to each other for the first year after we met.”
You stare at her in surprise. “What changed?”
She sighs, wistfully, staring into her mug. “He asked me if I wanted an orange. I said yes. And when he handed it to me, he’d peeled it for me.”
You blink. “Because you hate peeling oranges.”
“I do,” she agrees. “Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s an action. I think love is more about the choices we make and the things we remember about each other than whatever is written in the stars, honey.”
|Age 15|
There’s a boy on the football team- Ryan. Ryan has dark, curly hair and long, long eyelashes and this smile that makes your heart melt and your brain all fuzzy. Ryan doesn’t like olives, either, but he has a birthmark on the back of his right hand in the shape of a lopsided heart, and if you squint hard enough, you have one that matches on the back of your left arm. You stare at in the mirror for hours after he points it out, his hand on your arm.
You stare at your lips in the mirror for hours, too, after he kisses you for the first time. You think maybe you look different. You must. You’d never been kissed before, but Ryan hadn’t minded.
You go on group dates with him, because you’re nervous and your parents think you’re a bit too young to really be dating. You go to the mall, the movies, the diner down the street from the school. It’s your first taste of freedom.
Oscar asks you if you really like Ryan, like- “like like him?”, one day when you’re sitting in his backyard. Your mothers are inside, drinking wine. His sisters are in the pool, you’re laying out in the sun. Oscar sits under an umbrella and squints at the brightness of the world around him.
“Yeah,” you say, in the same tone you’d say duh or of course. “I think he’s my soulmate.”
“Why’s that?” Oscar asks tilting his head.
“We have matching birthmarks,” you say, again, in the same tone.
Oscar forms his mouth into a little o shape. You squint at him, pushing yourself to sit up.
“Why’re you so worried about it, anyways?”
“M’not,” Oscar says, crossing his leg over his knee. “S’just. He’s kind of an arse, isn’t he?”
He whispers the curse word so his sisters won’t hear. Oscar’s big into karting and racing right now, and the older boys at the tracks swear like sailors. There’s a swear jar stuffed to the brim sitting on the kitchen counter inside, right next to the half empty wine bottle.
Ryan is a bit of an arse, you’ll admit. To almost everyone.
“He’s nice to me,” you shrug. “He brought me flowers, yesterday. Isn’t that what matters?”
Oscar shrugs. He doesn’t ask about Ryan again.
Oscar is the one who brings you flowers when Ryan cheats on you and the other girl tells the whole school. He brings them to your bedroom door and you let him in. He sits with you, even as you cry, the door open the parentally required six inches. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t tell you he warned you. He just stays.
When Oscar moves to England, you wave goodbye with a smile. Then you lock yourself in your room and bawl your eyes out for a week straight, harder than you ever did about Ryan.
|Age 18|
Your university roommate, Emma, was born on the same day as you, at the exact same time. Down to the minute. You find it out on your second day of living together. It’s fate, kismet, meant to be. The stars and planets were aligned exactly the same way when you both took your first breaths.
Oscar laughs when you tell him, though he does admit that it’s a pretty cool coincidence. You’re chatting with him on the phone, telling him about your first week of university. You talk a lot, despite the distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.
You and Emma aren’t in any classes together- you have completely different majors. Despite this, you still become fast friends. You study together in your room and in the library, meet up for meals, and join a book club together. When Emma gets invited to her very first uni party, she brings you along with her. Your closets become shared.
You visit her family over the winter break for a week. She lives closer to the beach, and you love getting to soak up the sun with her and meet all the childhood friends you’ve heard stories about. Oscar comes home for his break and texts you, wondering when you’ll be back and if you’ll even have time for me, or are you too cool for me now?
You tackle him with a hug when you see him, standing at the kitchen counter in your house when you get there. He’s laughing and pushing you off of him, acting like he didn’t miss you just as much. You know he did. It’s written all over the smile on his face.
Emma visits your family later in the break, and that’s when you have your first fight.
“He’s definitely in love with you,” she insists from her spot on the air mattress on your floor.
She’s talking about Oscar, who she just met today. You’d brought her with to a barbecue at his family’s house. You’re regretting that choice. She’s spent all night afterwards pointing out all the signs that he’s in love with you- his hand on your shoulder, the look in his eyes, the way he smiled at you.
“He’s not,” you say, cheeks burning hot. “He’s- we’re friends.”
“Friends, right. Guys and girls can’t be just friends,” she says.
“Yes, they can!” You say indignantly.
Emma ignores you, rolls over, and goes to sleep. She leaves for home the next day- not earlier than she was supposed to, but it feels weird anyways. When you get back to campus, things feel different. You never really talk about the fight, though there wasn’t much to talk about, anyways. It’s not like she’s mean to you- the two of you still hang out, still see each other often. But Emma makes new friends, and you do too, and you stop doing everything together. It’s alright, you suppose, it’s just…
You were supposed to be destined to be friends. But soulmates shouldn’t be this easy to let go of. It’s written in the stars, it’s shouldn’t fade away like this.
Months ago, you and Emma had talked about spending the holiday break somewhere far away- somewhere tropical, exotic, so grown up and chic. But it hasn’t come up lately, and then she mentions a trip she’s taking with some friends from her classes. You book a flight to England instead and see Oscar in his new home for the first time.
You have new roommates next year. None of them have the same birthdate as you. You think that’s okay.
|Age 21|
There’s a stain on your dress, someone’s wine or sangria or cranberry juice that they’d been too clumsy with. You suppose it could be yours- you’re really not sure. It’s your fault for wearing such a light color to a club like this.
It’s your birthday. You’ve been able to drink for a few years, but it’s still your birthday, and for once, Oscar is there for it. Or really, you’re there for it, there being England. You’re on yet another trip to visit him, money saved and scraped together from your job on your breaks from school. Oscar helped pay for the plane ticket as a birthday present, and your parents got you a new luggage set to take along.
Oscar’s disappeared- at the bar, you remember, closing out his tab. You check your phone- 2:22 am. It’s really time you should be headed home-
You’re jostled from behind, and moments later, you feel cool liquid deep down your back. You turn, and there’s a guy standing there, sandy blonde hair and a terrified look on his face.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, British accent smoothing the words over. “I didn’t mean to-“
“S’okay,” you tell him, though you wrinkle your nose at the feeling of what was likely beer running down your back. “The dress was stained already.”
The man sighs. “It’s not okay- let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?”
You frown. “I think I’m supposed to be leaving. My friend just went to pay.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” The guy’s eyes light up, then. “Wait, how about I take you on a date?”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest. 2:22, you remember. Angel numbers. You are in the right place at the right time.
“I’m only here for a couple more days,” you say, cautiously.
“I’m free tomorrow if you are,” he suggest. “Well, more like later today, but-“
“Yeah, okay!” You’d at brightly, and hopefully not too eagerly. “I’m free.”
He’s holding out his phone for you to put your number in when Oscar pops up. He looks between the two of you with raised brows. “Everything alright?”
“He’s taking me on a date later today,” you explain, tapping the last number. “Because he spilled beer on my dress. Can you check if I put my number in right? My fingers aren’t working right.”
Oscar laughs, leans forward, and nods. “That’s right.”
You don’t remember getting back to Oscar’s apartment. You barely even remember the guy from the bar until Oscar brings it up that morning, a teasing tone in his voice. Suddenly you’re checking your phone every minute, looking for a text from him. You name him Angel Boy, mentioning the angel numbers you’d seen just before you bumped into him. Oscar, well versed in your obsession with things that are just meant to be, rolls his eyes affectionately.
When the sun is trending towards the horizon and Angel Boy still hasn’t called or even texted you, your mood sours. You plant yourself on the couch, an episode of some stupid reality show playing. You’re not paying attention, only staring at your phone.
By the time 7:00 rolls around, you know it’s a lost cause. You can hear Oscar in the other room, shuffling around, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. There’s got to be someone out there who’s actually meant to be yours, right? One of these times the signs will be right, and it’ll all work out. It’s just… you’re getting discouraged.
Oscar appears in front of you and slips your phone out of your hands. He shoves it into his own pocket. He hands you a jacket, one of his, and you stare up at him with wide eyes.
“I’m taking you out to dinner,” he says, as he reaches to brush the tears from your cheeks. “Just because he’s not going to text you, doesn’t mean you should just sit here all night.”
You could cry even harder at that, at the fact that Oscar cares enough to try and break you out of your moping. You don’t really want to go out, but he has this hopeful look on his face. Both of you don’t need to be sad today. So you stand up, pull the jacket over your arms, and take a deep breath. You walk out of the apartment, your arm linked with his.
The ramen bar you go to is probably better than anywhere the guy would’ve taken you, anyways. If you’re being honest, the company is better, too.
|Age 22|
Oscar flies you out to the Netherlands to see him race. You’d been at the Melbourne Grand Prix, of course, but he’d insisted he’d fly you out for at least one race in his first season- promised it years ago, when Formula One was just a dream on his bucket list. Zandvoort works well- it fits into your schedule, and the summer break starts right afterwards, so he’ll actually have time to spend with you.
In the days leading up to the race, he’s extremely busy and extremely apologetic about it. You reassure him that you understand, that you knew what you were getting into, knew he’d be busy. You wander around the paddock, say hi to Logan- who you know only slightly better than all the other drivers- and keep yourself entertained. You spend time with Oscar when you get the chance- between interviews and practices, stolen moments of privacy in his driver’s room. It’s nice, it really is, but it’s also… weird.
You’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about what your mother once said about soulmates and love. For all the soul searching you’ve done, all the stars you’ve tried to read, you’ve come up empty. You’ve resigned yourself to the fact that maybe there’s just not anyone out there for you. Maybe you’re not meant to have a soulmate.
The thing about letting go of that pressure, though, is that it leaves space. Not a hole, not an emptiness, just… space. Room for other things to sneak in and make their home and grow. Somewhere along the lines- you don’t know when, maybe it’s been there all along- a seed had been planted. Now the roots are digging cracks in your heart, the leaves are shading out every other thought, and there are flowers blooming.
For months, now, your heart has been jumping in your chest every time Oscar texts you. You can’t wipe the grin off your face when he calls. You’ve been following every race, waking up at odd hours to cheer him on, sending him selfies with the tv to prove it to him, to make sure he knows you’re watching. You feel a little crazy, because suddenly he’s all you can think about.
Maybe love is about choices. You start making them, start choosing him. The only question now is if he’ll choose you, too.
The whole weekend is chaos. Oscar crashes in practice, sending himself and your heart spinning. He’s okay, thank god- though his mother texts you frantically, asking if he’s really okay. Then the race itself is even more chaotic, between the rain and the crashes and all the stuff in between. Oscar ends up in the points, though not as high as he’d hoped to be. You cheer for him either way.
You stick around the paddock all the way through his debrief, even when he tries to say you can head back to the hotel without him. Eventually, you leave with him and Lando, his arm around your shoulders the whole way to the car that’s waiting. It’s nice. He’s warm. Lando is making small talk, trying to get to know his teammates best friend, the one Oscar never shuts up about. You feel your face grow hot and hope Oscar doesn’t notice.
In the hotel lobby, Oscar makes a stop at the complimentary snack bar. Lando says something about Kim, his trainer, getting after him, which Oscar ignores. The three of you ride up together in the elevator, with Lando demanding most of your attention as he begs for stories about Oscar as a kid. Oscar’s quiet- you wonder if the weekend is weighing on him more than he’d previously let on.
You say goodnight to Lando and then Oscar scans you into the hotel room. Two beds, a couch, and a balcony that the two of you had eaten breakfast on that morning. You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, flopping down onto your back.
Something lands on your stomach, softly. You look down, and your throat suddenly feels tight. It’s an orange. It’s a peeled orange. Oscar is standing at the window, pulling the curtains closed. His back is to you.
You blink, picking it up delicately. “You peeled it for me.”
“You hate peeling them,” he says. It’s very matter of fact. The same tone he’d use to say duh or of course.
You stare at his silhouette, the slope of his shoulders, the soft puff of his hair. You sit up, stomach turning. Suddenly, you need to be close to him. You stand up, orange in hand, pulling one of the pieces from it. You hold it lightly between your fingertips. Love is an action.
You hold it out to him. He takes it, smiles down at you.
“I love you, you know that?” You say, before you lose the courage.
“Yeah, I love you too,” he says, giving you a goofy look.
“No, like-“ you pause. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you should just-
But it’s too late, because a wave of understanding washes over his face. His eyes go wide, lips parting. His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, the orange slice still in his fingers.
“Oh,” he says, voice cracking. His face splits into a grin. “Jeez, took you long enough to catch up, didn’t it?”
When he drops the orange slice on the floor so he can grab your face and kiss you, you’re somehow still so startled that you also drop the rest of the orange. That’s okay, though. He’ll peel another one for you without you even having to ask. Stars light up behind your eyes at the feeling of his lips on yours, and you realize then that maybe soulmates are just the people who choose to stick around.
…..
Deep in your desk in your childhood home, there’s a piece of paper. It’s been unfolded and refolded a million times. At the top, the title says, 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate in messy, primary school handwriting. You pull it from your drawer and uncap the gel pen that sits in the cup on the desk.
At the bottom of the list, beneath your faded magic marker scrawl, you add:
#16: He peels your oranges.
#16: childhood best friend??
#16: YOU JUST KNOW
little bit of a different format for this one. as always, feel free to check out my other fics and tell me what you think!
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edenesth · 2 months
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The Way to His Heart [19]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 3.9k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 18 | Fic Masterlist | Part 20
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"What do you mean it will take weeks for me to fully recover? I don't have that kind of time, Yunho. This war isn't over yet." Your husband frowned, his gaze fixed on the physician from his position on the bed.
You sighed, stepping closer to the doctor, your concern evident, "Seonghwa, Physician Jung is doing his best. How can you return to battle if you're not physically strong enough? What good will that do, hm? And remember, you've acknowledged Officer Song's strategic prowess. Perhaps it's time to have a little faith in him for now."
Like magic, your words softened the general's hardened expression as he nodded in defeat, "Fine, I suppose you're right," He offered you a smile before turning back to Yunho, "I trust you've at least written back to Mingi to assure him I'm fine, right?"
"It's done, my lord."
"That's good; things should be stable for now. We dealt a significant blow to the Ruhon forces in our last battle. It's unlikely they'll launch any new attacks soon, considering their diminished numbers. If things continue to go well, this war might conclude sooner than expected." Seonghwa remarked, feeling optimistic.
"I certainly hope so, for everyone's sake. I made sure to inform Officer Song that you'll need a few weeks to recover. If they need you urgently, I'm sure he'll write back promptly," The physician assured, relieved to see your husband immediately agree with him, calming down so quickly with your presence, "Yes, I'm sure he will." Yunho knew for certain that without you there, he would have had a much harder time attempting to soothe the older man's frustration.
Sensing the general's longing gaze toward you, the doctor suppressed a knowing grin. Understanding that he was interrupting your much-needed private moment, he decided it was time to leave you both alone. With a final bow, he excused himself, "Well, that's all from me for now. I'll return tomorrow for your bandage change and medication. Good day, General Park and Lady Park."
After the physician left the room, you approached Seonghwa to ensure his comfort, tucking the comforters snugly around him and adjusting the pillow behind his back. His eyes remained fixed on your face, which he had missed dearly, as you fussed over him, "Is the temperature alright? Let me know if it's too hot or cold," You inquired. He nodded, and you continued, "Are you hungry? You must be. I'll ask the kitchen staff to prepare something for you—"
Before you could step away from his bedside, he grasped your wrist, his expression displaying a small pout, "Stop, my love. I just want you to stay with me, please."
You softened, placing your hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze before brushing some of his hair away from his face, "I'm sorry, I was just worried about you. You've been away at war for so long. I wanted to make sure you have everything you need now that you're home before you eventually return to the battlefield."
He smiled, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly, "All I need is you." He murmured, gently pulling you closer into his arms.
Feeling your heart melt at his words, you relaxed into his embrace on the bed as he pulled the comforter over both of you. Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sighed contentedly as he kissed your temple. He felt complete with you so close again, "God, I missed you so much," He confessed, "Out of all the wars I've fought, this has to be the most dreadful one. Not because it was tough, but because I couldn't stop thinking about you throughout it all."
"I missed you too, Seonghwa," You confessed, drawing in a deep breath to savour his familiar scent, "I never thought I could yearn to be near someone this badly."
His eyes instinctively fluttered shut as you nestled closer to him, pressing his nose against your hair, wishing for this moment to last forever. After a moment of comfortable silence, he couldn't resist asking, "I've heard a lot has happened while I was gone. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you through it. Tell me everything, my wife."
Taking a deep breath, you started from the beginning, recounting the events that unfolded after the general had departed for war. You described encountering Jinjoo during your visit to the fabric factory with Hongjoong, the surprise visit from the prince to the estate, and his unexpected invitation to the birthday banquet. You explained how he lied about you representing Seonghwa at the event and your gratitude for Wooyoung and San's help in preparing for it.
As you narrated every little detail that occurred at the supposed royal birthday celebration, your husband's heart swelled with pride and admiration. He listened intently, feeling his love for you grow with each word. Your courage in standing up for yourself and defending him in front of Prince Yeosang filled him with immense gratitude. He realised how fortunate he was to have you by his side.
"I'm so proud of you, my darling Lady Park."
With a light scoff, you teasingly pushed him in the chest, "Are you now, my dearest General Park? I still can't believe the first thing you chose to do after coming back was hurt me and push me away."
Guilt immediately clouded his expression as he drew closer to you, emitting a small whine, "I'm sorry, my love. Truly, I am. Speaking those cruel words hurt me more than this damn wound. I promise I didn't mean any of it. You're not troublesome at all, and I do want you with me for the rest of my days. If anything, you're all I need from now until the end of time."
At that, you could no longer bear to continue making him feel bad. Turning serious, you gently caressed the bandaged area on his abdomen before speaking, "I understand, Hwa. I really do. But I swear, if you ever pull something like that again, I won't hesitate to let Hongjoong loose on you."
His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used for him, one you had never used before, "What did you just call me? Say it again."
Embarrassed, you blinked rapidly and cleared your throat before repeating softly, "I called you Hwa. It's your name, isn't it?"
He nodded with a cheeky grin, covering your hand with his, "Indeed it is. I love how bold you've become, my love. Now, along with that nickname, tell me you love me again."
You blushed at his request, feeling he deserved to hear it as many times as he wanted now that he'd returned to your side safely. Relenting, you bit your lip and murmured, "I love you, Hwa."
"Again." He demanded, resting his forehead gently against yours.
"I love you, Hwa."
"Again, my love." He whispered, leaning in closer with hooded eyes.
"I love you, Hwa."
"Say it for me just one more time."
"I love you so much, Park Seonghwa."
Intoxicated by your presence, he could no longer resist cupping your face and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you relished the sensation of his lips on yours. Both your hearts raced as you made up for lost time, pressing close to one another under the sheets. Your cheeks burned up, realising this was the most intimate moment you'd shared with your husband so far.
Gently pushing him away by the chest, you looked up at him, worry evident in your eyes, "That's enough, Hwa. You're still injured—"
But before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, capturing your lips in another loving kiss. You gasped in surprise, but your resistance crumbled quickly as he deepened the kiss. Maybe just for a little longer, you thought to yourself, giving in to the moment.
As he savoured the feeling of having you so close, Seonghwa's emotions swirled within him like a tempest. He needed this closeness desperately, especially after the fear he'd felt earlier, thinking he might be close to death. The regret for hurting you with his words gnawed endlessly at him, and he despised the idea of being separated from you again. How could he have ever entertained the thought of you being with another man? The mere thought of Prince Yeosang in his place, holding you, touching you, kissing you, filled him with an uncontrollable jealousy that bordered on madness.
These thoughts fueled a surge of aggression within him as he flipped you around on the bed, trapping you beneath him. He loomed over you, his gaze intense as he whispered, "Mine. You're all mine."
As much as the sudden action flustered you and caused your heart to skip a beat, you frowned at his stubbornness, realising he wouldn't know when to stop unless sternly told off, "Are you out of your mind, Park Seonghwa? Such big movements could affect the wound, you idiot." You scolded, disrupting the intimate moment.
He blinked, momentarily speechless at the abrupt change in tone, protesting, "I'm fine, my wife—"
Before he could continue, the dressmaker barged in with raised brows, "Oh, we're all fine now, aren't we? I guess you're well enough to take a beating then."
The general panicked, hastily laying back in his spot, "Hongjoong, please, it's rude to enter without knocking." He chided.
You snickered when his friend rolled his eyes, "Well, it's also rude to disrespect your wife, but here we are."
"Oh my god, stop reminding me—"
"I'll stop when you learn to grow the hell up."
"Says you?!"
With a deep sigh, you stood up from your husband's bed, "You two fight to your heart's content; I'm going to prepare something to eat for this one." You said, gesturing to Seonghwa, ignoring his silent pleas not to leave him alone with his friend.
Hongjoong grinned at you, "Don't you worry, I'll take good care of him in the meantime."
Oh, I know you will.
"Have we heard from Physician Jung yet?" Mingi inquired as he was being suited up in preparation for the impending attack by the approaching Ruhon men.
"No, sir. It appears we're facing this battle on our own. But with your exceptional strategies, we should manage well even without General Park." One of the soldiers replied, striving to maintain optimism despite the military commander's absence.
"Let us hope so." The strategist muttered, unable to bring himself to reveal that his strategies had been devised with the assumption of having the best warrior in all of Joseon leading the army. Officer Song hadn't seen battlefield action since his promotion, and his combat skills were far from polished. Just why did this have to happen in the general's absence? Mingi feared the responsibility; if they failed in this battle, it would fall on him. The prospect of leading these men to their deaths was enough to make him feel nauseous.
He still couldn't grasp how Ruhon had made such a swift comeback. It seemed implausible given the significant losses they had suffered in the last battle. After all, the enemy nation wasn't known for its strategic prowess; they were often predictable in their actions. Unless... they were intentionally misleading Joseon into underestimating them? If so, the strategist might have played right into their hands as part of their plan.
Oh god, what do I do?
As General Officer Song meticulously went through his preparations for the impending battle, a sense of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak. Even with his efforts to focus solely on the task at hand, his thoughts kept drifting back to Seonghwa. The absence of their commander, his superior, and one of his closest friends weighed heavily on his mind.
With each passing moment, his worry for the general intensified. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped him, wondering if his friend was safe and well. Had the older man managed to make it home? Had Yunho received his letter, informing him of General Park's condition?
These questions nagged endlessly at him, gnawing at his insides as he grappled with the uncertainty of the situation. Despite his attempts to maintain a facade of confidence for the sake of his fellow soldiers, Mingi couldn't shake the underlying fear that something terrible might have happened to Seonghwa. All he could do now was hope and pray for his friend's safety, even as the spectre of war loomed ever closer.
A sudden wave of fear washed over him, unlike anything he had experienced in a long time. The general's absence felt more profound and impactful than ever before. It was as if the very foundation of his confidence had been shaken, revealing the stark reality that his sense of assurance had always been rooted in the presence and trust of his commanding officer.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the strategist found himself questioning his own abilities and worthiness. Without General Park by his side, his confidence wavered, leaving him feeling unsteady and uncertain. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such panic in war.
With a heavy heart, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, attempting to steady his nerves. Doing his best to ignore the doubts that plagued him, he knew he had a duty to fulfil. With trembling hands, he reviewed his strategies once more, desperately seeking reassurance in the plans he had meticulously crafted.
As he waited for the cue to head out and face the enemy, Officer Song resolved to push aside his fears and doubts. He may not have Seonghwa's guidance and leadership at this moment, but he knew he had to stand firm and lead the troops to the best of his abilities. With determination set in his heart, Mingi braced himself, ready to face whatever may come in the battle that awaited him.
Just as he was hoping to receive any updates about the general or word from Physician Jung, a soldier burst into the main tent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The strategist's heart skipped a beat, looking forward to some semblance of reassurance amid his mounting anxiety. However, instead of providing the updates he had been desperately seeking, the soldier stammered out his words.
"S-sir, I'm afraid it's time we head out and be on standby," The soldier managed to say between breaths, "The Ruhon army should be arriving anytime soon."
Mingi's hands clenched involuntarily, his mind racing with a mix of apprehension and determination. Despite the lack of information about Seonghwa's condition, he knew that duty called and he had to lead his troops into battle. With a firm nod, he suppressed the trembling in his hands and resolved to face the conflict head-on.
"Let's go out and make General Park proud." He declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. With resolve burning in his eyes, he led his men out of the tent.
Moments later, Officer Song found himself mounted on a horse, the weight of his armour pressing against his shoulders as he surveyed the Joseon army lined up behind him. They stood at attention, ready for his orders, their anticipation palpable in the air.
As he gazed out at the empty land ahead, where the enemy forces would soon emerge, Mingi could hear nothing but the thundering of his own heart in his ears. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, a familiar weight that offered some measure of comfort in the face of uncertainty.
With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus, pushing aside the uncertainties that threatened to overwhelm him. He may not be Park Seonghwa, but he had undergone rigorous training and was a capable fighter in his own right. Reminding himself of his own combat skills, he squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve.
"We stand ready." He declared, his voice carrying across the ranks of soldiers behind him. Despite the nerves gnawing at his insides, he projected an air of confidence, determined to lead his troops with strength and determination.
I hope you're proud of me, hyung-nim.
His breath hitched in his throat as he finally spotted a tiny speck on the horizon, growing larger and more distinct with each passing moment. His heart raced as he realised that these were the enemy soldiers they had been waiting for. With a loud voice, he yelled the order for all soldiers to get into position.
Tensions were high as everyone readied themselves, their nerves stretched taut with fear at the absence of their strongest warrior to lead them. But as the figures drew closer, Officer Song's brow furrowed in confusion.
Something was not right.
Instead of a formidable army, only a few Ruhon soldiers were riding toward them, their arms raised in what appeared to be a gesture of surrender. Mingi's eyes widened in disbelief as he heard their cries.
"Soldiers of Joseon! Please don't attack! We have come to surrender!"
A sense of astonishment rippled through the ranks of the Joseon army as they processed the unexpected turn of events. One of the Ruhon men even went so far as to pull out a white flag, waving it frantically to signal their willingness to concede defeat.
The strategist's grip tightened on his sword as he studied the Ruhon soldiers before him, their faces worn with exhaustion and defeat. Despite their assurances, he couldn't afford to let his guard down yet, not after the treacherous tactics they had previously employed against Seonghwa.
"Hold it right there! How can we believe you're telling the truth?" He demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.
The Ruhon soldiers let out heavy sighs, their arms still raised in a gesture of surrender, "Please, we're telling the truth. Most of our troops have been depleted from the last battle," One of them explained, his voice tinged with desperation, "Our ruler has sent word just this morning to put this war to an immediate stop. A messenger is on the way to your royal palace to convey the message to your King as we speak. We come in peace to relay this message, and that is all. All remaining Ruhon troops will be retreating from our camp after this."
Mingi remained silent for a moment, weighing their words carefully. Finally, he lowered his sword, signalling for his own troops to stand down, "Very well," He said, his voice tinged with caution, "But know that we will be watching closely. Any sign of treachery from you, and we will not hesitate to defend ourselves."
The Ruhon soldiers visibly relaxed at his words, nodding quickly, "You have my word." One of them assured before they turned around and began riding away. The tension dissolved as they disappeared from sight, leaving Officer Song and his men standing in disbelief. Relief washed over them, dispelling the earlier fears. The strategist's expression mirrored the collective sentiment of his troops—a mix of relief and disbelief.
"Well, I guess we should head back to camp and await confirmation then," Mingi said, his voice filled with a hint of exhaustion. His soldiers nodded eagerly, grateful that the tense situation had been resolved peacefully. They began to disperse, their spirits lifted by the unexpected turn of events.
Now, everything fell into place, and the pieces of the puzzle aligned once again. His earlier suspicions about Ruhon's swift recruitment of soldiers now made perfect sense. It was clear that they no longer possessed enough manpower to continue fighting this war.
Returning to the main tent, Mingi was relieved to find a messenger waiting for him, "Officer Song, there you are! You have a letter from Physician Jung Yunho," The messenger announced eagerly. He hurried over to receive the paper, unfolding it with urgency. His eyes scanned the neatly written words at lightning speed, absorbing the contents. Once finished, he released the breath he had been holding, sinking into the seat behind him, "Oh, thank heavens the general is alright." He breathed out, a weight lifted from his shoulders.
The messenger's face immediately brightened at his words, and he quickly left to share the good news with the others. Mingi couldn't help but smile; everything was finally falling into place.
Peace, at last.
But his moment of relief was short-lived as a commotion erupted outside. The strategist frowned and left the tent to see what was happening. He found his soldiers blocking the entry of a woman, which puzzled him. Women weren't allowed in this area.
"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," One of the soldiers explained. Mingi pushed through to hear her response, "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."
As he caught sight of her petite figure, his eyes widened in recognition. Not because of her uniform, which indicated she was a female royal physician, renowned for their medical expertise, but because she was the one he had been searching for all this time.
I finally found you, my one.
« Preview of Part 20 »
"The audacity of those Ruhon bastards, attempting to poison my strongest warrior. That's nothing short of treachery, isn't it, my Queen?" The King grumbled, his concern for Seonghwa evident in his furrowed brow. He had even dispatched their most skilled female royal physician to the war zone, trusting her to heal him.
Anxiety filled his being as his wife sighed beside him, offering a comforting hand on his back. She had yet to muster any courage to mention the trouble caused by their fourth son during the general's absence, not wanting to add to her husband's worries, "I wish I had an answer for that, Your Majesty." She murmured sympathetically.
Before the royal couple could further drown in their pool of misery, the royal secretary rushed in with a few letters. He hastily performed the formal bow, only to have the King wave it away.
"Forget the formalities, Secretary Choi! Tell us what updates you have this instant!" His Majesty's voice was urgent.
San nodded, swiftly unfolding the papers and reading each one aloud. With each letter, a weight seemed to lift from the room.
"The first letter is from General Park," He began, "He reports he's safely home and receiving treatment from his own doctor."
Relief washed over the King's face.
"And the second?" Her Majesty pressed, her tone hopeful.
San's voice steadied as he continued, "The second is from the ruler of Ruhon. He acknowledges defeat and officially surrenders. He is also requesting an audience to discuss a peace treaty. It would seem the war is over, Your Majesties."
"Oh, thank goodness it's over."
After a moment of everyone digesting the news, His Majesty furrowed his brows in slight confusion, "Wait, General Park is home already, you say?" His voice carried a note of incredulity, "How odd. That would mean he began travelling back before there was even news of the enemy's surrender. Why would he return home all of a sudden? Did something else happen?"
The Queen's heart sank at that. For weeks, she had harboured the hope of shielding Yeosang from his father's potential wrath, but now it seemed fate had other plans.
I'm sorry, my son.
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Woohoo, only the final part is left, and we're done with the main story! Psst, try going over to the Spinoff Masterlist to see if you can spot anything new HEHE🙈
As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3
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juyofans · 28 days
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it's you ( j.wy & c.s )
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pairing › jung wooyoung x afab reader x choi san. about › 3.6k, nsfw (minors dni), fluff warnings › smoking weed, nicknames, threesome, double penetration, riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it guys), p in v, creampies, degradation, praise, fingering, high sex, idol au, mxm content, nipple play, woosan deserve their own warning, lmk if i missed anything
synopsis › getting high with your weed besties is something of a tradition for you. being fucked by them, however, is definitely not. note › when you haven't written since february and all of a sudden you watch chellateez and go into absolute brainrot 😂🙏 i swear i wrote this in 8 hours i don't know what the hell is wrong with me but whatever. also happy 4/20 so fitting for this fic am i right 😝 this is dedicated to my sexy hot smoking wife @yunhoszn tagging › @atzhouse @skteezcursed also @hoshiseon for encouraging me to keep going ily
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“You’re late.”
You scoff, shutting the door behind you. The room is dim, save for the lamp in the corner, but you don’t need light to register the already thick atmosphere of the hotel room and the two silhouettes in the corner.
“Clearly, it doesn’t matter since you guys have already started,” you say, flicking the light switch on. 
San comes into focus first, holding a rolled-up joint in between his fingers as he exhales smoke. The sight makes you dizzy, partially because of the cloudy air but also because of the opened blazer adorning his frame, exposing more than covering it. One look at Wooyoung proves the same, his loosened tie and black jacket strewn across the chair much more haphazardly than merely an hour ago on the Coachella stage.
“You guys didn’t even change?” you gasp, almost accusingly.
“Can you blame us?” Wooyoung responds, his silky voice floating through your ears, “That performance was insane. We needed something to calm us down.”
Wooyoung hands you a joint rolled up perfectly with his nimble fingers, and San beckons you over with two fingers. You shuffle over, watching him pull out his Hello Kitty lighter from the drawer beside him.
“We were too antsy to think about changing,” San confesses. You lean down, close to his chest as he flicks the wheel of the lighter. The orange flame dances across his chest, shimmering with the body oil he applied before the performance, and it’s hard to pay attention to your own joint when he lights it.
The smoke bursts, taking you by surprise, and you cough as San pulls the joint out of your mouth.
“You okay?” he asks, delicately cradling your chin. Your lungs burn as if they’ve been lit on fire, but all you can focus on is San’s warm gaze grounding you.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s been a while.”
“Do you not smoke without us?” Wooyoung asks from the corner. You turn, shifting your gaze to him and noticing the newly popped open buttons of his shirt.
“Of course not. You’re my weed besties, it’s like I’d be cheating on you if I got high without you.”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes, trudging over to take a seat next to you. He pats at the empty space next to him, right between you and San, and you oblige, letting the bed frame hit your back as you scooch down.
“Do you guys get high without me?” you ask, timidly, wondering if only you share this sort of possessive sentiment.
“Of course not,” San replies. He’s playing with your hair now, curling it between his fingers as if you were always meant to be in this position, by his side. “You’re our weed buddy for life.”
And it’s true. You got high with San and Wooyoung your first time years ago, and you knew you wouldn’t have it any differently as you watched them wipe away your tears from the burning ache in your chest and tell you that you were doing so well for them, that you were taking it like a champ and that you were safe with them. Pulling out the weed is almost a tradition now, often finding yourself in the backseat of the van exhaling smoke after a particularly exhausting performance or in your bedroom at night after a long day of work. It helps you take the edge off things, they help you take the edge off things, and it’s a mutual response that all three of you are together when you take your first and last hits.
“Yeah, we’re like friends with benefits. Except the benefit is the weed, not sex,” you clarify. You attempt to grab your joint from San, wanting to experience the so-called benefit you just mentioned, but San holds it high above him in an attempt to tease you and you can only pout in response.
“Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says, holding it farther away from you as you reach for it with grabby hands. You can hear Wooyoung laughing from the side, but all you’re focused on is the prize in his hands as you lean over his lap, your right hand finding purchase on his exposed shoulder as you finally grab ahold of his hand, plucking the joint right out of his fingers.
“Got it!” you exclaim, but it takes a few moments for you to register Wooyoung’s silence before you look down, wondering why the room is engulfed in sudden quietness. You suppose you find the answer in San’s expression, staring up at you, and just about now you realize how imperceptibly close he is, how you’re now straddling his lap and somehow your hand has slid down to his chest, grabbing onto the hardness of his chest muscle.
You think you might die.
You feel San’s heart beating wildly against your fingers, and it takes thirty seconds before you realize that this is wrong, so, irrevocably wrong, and you make a move to shift off his lap.
“I’m so sorry,” you start, removing your hand from his abdomen and bringing your leg up, “I wasn’t paying attention and I—”
San grips onto your thigh, holding you in place. You still, wondering if his touch is merely a dream or something very, very real with even more real implications.
“Do you know how long I’ve imagined you like this?” he starts, his chest constraining as if he’s pained, as if the mere sight of you in his lap is like poison flooding his veins.
“What?” you ask. Your whole world shifts on its axis and suddenly, you’re hyperaware of the way his pants strain against his dick, the hardness against your thigh, and his heavy breathing in front of you.
“Five years,” Wooyoung answers. Your gaze shifts to where he sits, and he leans closer as if this is some dirty secret that’s only meant for your ears. “He’s imagined you in this position for five years, ever since the day we first got high together because you wanted to be good for him. For me. For us.”
And you feel like glass, see-through despite every intention to hide your feelings because it’s true. It’s imperceptibly true that you wanted to get high with them to gain some sort of intimacy with them, a tradition with only you three and feelings that no one else would understand. It’s true that your heart flutters whenever someone mentions it’s your thing with them, because even the mere thought of being associated with them is enough to drive you insane.
The joint in your hands can get you high, but nothing else makes you float like their presence next to you, imagining the way it’d feel if you just leaned a little closer and made yourself theirs.
“I don’t understand,” you say, even though you all know damn well that you do. “What are you trying to say?”
Wooyoung doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours, swallowing your gasp and bringing you close.
You moan against his lips as you press back, too dizzy to even comprehend. You don’t know if your lightheadedness is from the hit you just took or Wooyoung’s lips, but either way, your brain is spinning and all you can think of is being consumed by him. He sucks your bottom lip in between his teeth, biting softly as you whine. Wooyoung kisses you like he’s starved, as if he wants to eat you whole and devour you as if you’re his for the taking, and judging by the way you respond so eagerly, you might as well let him.
“Enough,” San complains, and Wooyoung pulls back from you as you attempt to register what the hell just happened. You can’t even sit still for a moment before San pulls your thighs so you’re placed right on top of his clothed dick. All you can do is fall forward, meeting his lips halfway with yours.
If Wooyoung kisses you like he’s taking everything from you, then San breathes life back into you. He presses slowly, and gently, testing the waters until you whimper against his lips for more. It’s heartwarming how he handles you delicately, as if he’s your first everything, and it’s not long before you squirm on his lap and he has to pull back from you, throwing his head back and groaning.
“Stop,” he breathes ruggedly, making a noise of protest as you grind down harder. “I don’t want to make you come for the first time against my pants. I need to be inside you.”
Still, you can’t seem to stop until Wooyoung puts his hands on your waist. You whimper, almost in tears from being stopped so suddenly.
“Look at you, grinding yourself against him like a whore. Thought you were being good for us, but all you care about is about getting to cum, is it?”
“No!” you gasp, shaking your head, but you know you’re past the point of no return when Wooyoung spins you around, on San’s lap. San wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you close against him, again, and you feel the hardness of his abs against your thin shirt. Wooyoung moves from his position to kneel between San’s legs, and your legs, grinning wickedly as he lifts your short skirt so that you’re truly spread open for him.
“Look how wet you are,” he coos, and the sweet tone in which he says those filthy words makes you want to die, “how long have you been wanting us like this? Five years, maybe even longer?”
You nod, and San sighs against your ear.
“Could’ve been sitting pretty on my dick for ages now. It’s okay, though. We can make up for lost time.”
San trails kisses down the side of your neck, licking, biting softly, until you’re squirming away from him and he has to hold you in place with his right hand. The rings on his fingers shine against the lamplight, and you feel yourself getting wetter with the way he grips you so easily, kissing you so carefully but having the potential to ruin you wholeheartedly.
You’re brought back to reality when you feel a featherlike touch prod at your panties. They’re pink, cute, and definitely not the right ones to wear if you want to get fucked, but Wooyoung seems to pay no mind as he slides them off you in one go, tucking them into the back pocket of his pants. Your top follows next, and Wooyoung groans when he finds no bra underneath, making haste to lean in close, taking an exposed nipple into his mouth.
“No bra? You just wanted to strip for us, huh? So, so easy for us to fuck you.”
You can’t even say no because deep down, you know he’s right.
“You wear these short skirts,” he says, trailing his fingers up your thighs, “and tight shirts with no bra, and cute, cute little panties that drive us insane. Do you know how many times we’ve gotten off to the thought of you, so sweet and perfect like this?”
San bites your earlobe as Wooyoung says this, and you cry out, digging your nails into his thighs.
“You’ve gotten off to me?” you pant, breath heady with desire.
“More times than you can imagine, pretty.”
With that, his fingers finally find your folds, slipping inside them with ease. He finds your clit in seconds as if he was always meant to be there, and it’s not long before he traces figure eights on the nub, holding your thigh open with his free hand so tightly he’s sure to leave marks.
As if you weren’t crazy enough already, San ceases his ministrations on your neck to take ahold of your nipple in his hand, tweaking and pinching until it’s irritated before moving over to the other one, alternating until you can’t keep yourself silent anymore.
“Please, please stop before I— Oh, god!” you cry as Wooyoung slips his fingers inside you, curling them so tightly that it has you seeing stars. His thumb finds purchase on your clit again, never stopping his incessant rubbing, and you think you might pass out from the coil in your stomach building up, the pressure so tight that it really might take you out.
“Be good and let go for us,” San breathes into your ear, swirling his finger around your nipple, and that’s all it takes for you to spill over the edge, throwing your head back against San’s shoulder and clamping down on Wooyoung’s fingers.
Wooyoung works you through it until you’re begging him to stop, and the sight of your cum stringing on his fingers makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. It drives you even more insane though when Wooyoung brings his fingers to San’s lips and they both murmur sounds of desire, and you watch entranced as San swirls his fingers around Wooyoung before he pulls them out with a pop.
Before you can even say anything, though, Wooyoung kisses San, slipping his tongue inside the other’s mouth and licking at his lips. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sight, entranced with the way their lips slot together so perfectly at the taste of you.
“So good,” San gasps out as Wooyoung pulls back, pressing another kiss against his lips before shifting his attention to you. San presses his lips against yours, making sure you taste yourself against him.
“You taste so sweet,” he starts, running his fingers through his hair, “So, so sweet. Let me fuck you, pretty. Please?”
Your chest pangs, suddenly aware of how badly you need something inside of you, and before you can even say yes, Wooyoung is pulling your skirt higher, up to your waist. It barely covers your ass now, and as San busies himself with freeing his dick, Wooyoung makes sure to show you just how much he appreciates you, groping at the skin of your ass until you beg for him to stop.
“You’re so hard,” Wooyoung comments when San finally pulls his dick out, and your mouth waters at the sight. He is hard, long, and curved, and the prominent vein on the underside makes you want to trace your tongue on it until he’s writhing beneath you.
“Can you blame me? They look like an angel sitting on my lap.”
You’re obsessed with the way they talk about you as if you aren’t physically present, just a plaything for their use. Your fingers trace San’s dick, thumbing over the vein, and he squirms, growing harder at the touch.
“I need you. Right now.”
Wooyoung helps position you so you’re hovering right over him, and when San stares at you for confirmation, your heart swells. You nod, knowing you could never, ever say no to him, and he lowers you down, spearheading you on his dick.
It’s not like you’re a virgin, but the way San rearranges your insides makes you feel like you’re losing your virginity all over again. He’s big, too big, and as you lower yourself on him, every inch feels like your body is adjusting to accommodate his length. Even if Wooyoung prepared you enough, San’s size is something you know will take a while to get used to.
After what feels like an eternity, you finally find yourself flush against him, ass pressed against his chest and legs situated around his. You exhale, finding that you held your breath in for so long in anticipation, and only when you feel the slight pain slip away do you signal San that you’re ready.
He helps you out by holding onto your shaking thighs, lifting you off halfway before you slam back down again. The action makes you both gasp, and as you stare at Wooyoung, wide-eyed, you know he’s just as turned on as the both of you.
You quickly build up a rhythm with San’s help, bouncing on him as you desperately try to reach your high again. The praise he whispers into your ear only spurs you on, rutting against him like this is your lifeline.
“You fight around me so tight,” he gasps, “Squeezing me in like you need me. It’s like you were made to be here. For us.”
Wooyoung groans from the other end, and as you meet his eyes again, the sight makes you water. He has his hand shoved inside his pants, palming himself needily as he focuses on the two of you, and you watch as his dick strains against his pants and his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Wooyoung,” you pant, “let me help you.”
“What?” he sputters, coming to a stop as he registers your voice.
“I can fit two. There’s room for one more.”
You spread your legs open wider, and Wooyoung moans at the way your pussy swallows San whole.
“Are you sure?” San puffs against your ear, “You’re already so tight against me.”
“And I can be even tighter with the two of you.”
You clench around San to prove your point, and he bites down on your shoulder to muffle his noises.
“God, okay,” Wooyoung says, succumbing to his desires, “turn around.”
You lift yourself off of San, already whining at the lack of something inside you, but it’s not long before you perch yourself on all fours and San’s sliding into you again. This time, however, you feel a second dick prod at you, and you moan shamelessly into the room.
“You sure about this?” Wooyoung asks.
“Please. I need you,” you respond, sticking your ass out further, and that’s all it takes before Wooyoung slides into you.
Wooyoung is shorter than San, but thicker, and even though it hurts like hell at first, San working you open earlier helps you adjust easily to the feeling of two dicks inside of you. 
“Have you guys ever done this before?” you ask, suddenly curious about whether this is a new experience for them too.
“Never. It’s always been you, baby. Only you,” San says, pulling out before slamming back in again.
The three of you moan, the feeling of San’s dick rocking right next to Wooyoung’s making you feel out of this world. Wooyoung goes next, a rougher stroke than San’s, and as they alternate and work you open, you don’t think you could ever go back to regular sex again.
“You look so pretty like this,” San starts, palming your ass.
“Being fucked like a hole for us to use,” Wooyoung continues, slapping your skin. The pain shocks you, and you squeeze around them tighter, something you didn’t even think was possible, but their vocal reactions to it spur you on even more. They thrust into you harder, alternating and then fucking into you all at once, to the point where you can’t even register their rhythm anymore and all you can focus on is the way they fill you up.
It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens again, and based on their slightly less calculated thrusts, you know that they’re close too. Perceptive as always, San’s hands find your clit again, exactly what you need to let go.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, your thighs shaking.
“Us too,” Wooyoung responds, wildly fucking into you to reach his high. “Let go for us, baby.”
With one more circle of San’s fingers, you spill over, milking their dicks in a neverending orgasm. They fuck you through it, and Wooyoung holds your waist so you don’t collapse on them.
“Close, pretty,” Wooyoung starts, “where do you want us?”
“Inside,” you plead, “right where you belong.”
San comes with a gasp, emptying into you, and his release triggers Wooyoung’s as he follows suit. They fuck into you until they can’t anymore, pulling out of you and watching their cum drip down your thighs.
San cleans you up with a towel, and Wooyoung leaves the room to return with a glass of water, something you’re thankful for because quite honestly, you’re spent after being used so maniacally like that.
You kiss each of them once you’re done, situated against the edge of the bed with the two of them next to you like always. Wooyoung lights a singular joint with the weed left, and you share the roll between the three of you.
“I love you,” you whisper after a few moments of silence, and you feel Wooyoung squeeze your thigh, “I always have. I don’t know what this means for us, but I know I need the two of you.”
“We feel the same way,” San says, kissing your cheek. “We can take it one step at a time. Just know it’s always been you, and it always will be.”
You watch as Wooyoung takes a hit of the joint, the smoke swirling until it disappears into thin air. He takes another puff, but this time, he pulls you close, kissing you as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. Your lungs burn from the heavy smoke, but Wooyoung’s lips are far too consuming to even focus on the pain as you kiss back. 
“We can worry about all that later. In the future, because we have all the time in the world together. For now, though,” he starts, dragging you onto his lap once again in a sick, twisted, form of deja vu, “maybe we can worry about round two.”
And as Wooyoung kisses you again and San finds purchase against the small of your back, you realize that they’re absolutely right. You may not know what the future holds, but for now, you can just count on your weed besties boyfriends to help you take your mind off it.
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if it makes you feel better, a mature student on my course (history) used chatgpt to write an essay (on a real historical event) and handed it in (to a history professor who specialises in the real historical event) and chatgpt got the event entirely wrong. the student went to every lecture and seminar. i don't really know what the thought process was. they showed me their exact work process though (closed wikipedia next to me, put the essay q into chatgpt, and handed it in).
yay university!
Yeah, the very first student I ever caught doing this was last year. He was supposed to write a management plan for a site of his choosing, and went for the site of the old Dunvant Brickworks, now a flourishing reclaimed nature reserve with a brick dust problem.
And his Site Background section was entirely made up. Just fully fictionalised. It claimed there was now a museum and visitor centre onsite (there is not), that the brickworks were named after the family that founded them (they were named after the nearby village which comes from the Welsh Dwfn + Nant), and that the site has won awards for conservation (it has not) and now runs classes on heritage brickmaking (it does not.) Oh, and that the original brickworks had pioneered a brand new brickmaking techniques and was known during the Industrial Revolution for it's progressive workers' rights. Lol.
Anyway the first marker used to be a taxi driver in Swansea, and went "Hang on, there's no museum and visitor's centre -" and then passed it to me. Three hours later, we had proven that six of the fifteen references (already, far too few references for a MASTERS STUDENT) were fake. Two of those fake ones were then heavily used throughout the whole piece to prove everything from the history of the site (lies) to the hydrologic grid (fake) and the presence of signal crayfish in the streams (no).
It was, as they say, a shit show. And again, before I got involved and hit the ChatGPT alarm, the original second marker had looked it over and failed it - not because she knew it was AI, but because it was an utterly shit piece of work.
(That particularly story ended, btw, with that student being given leniency on mental health grounds, so he was allowed to try to resubmit with a new attempt. He was advised to return to the site, reassess it properly, then write up a new piece.
The day before his new submission date, his study support called me and asked for a meeting between the three of us, because the study support is from an IT background and so didn't have the subject knowledge to support him. We had a three way Teams call. During that call, me and the study support - hereafter referred to as Gareth to spare me typing that - both had microphones on, cameras on, and were freely talking. Student had his camera and microphone off.
First question from Gareth: "So, we have the site's real management plan, but it's 20 years out of date. Is this going to be a problem?"
Me: "No, not at all. In the industry, management plans are often out of date. Just factor that into yours - if it was written 20 years ago, you'll probably need to update the surveys to re-establish the current baseline, so what are you going to say needs to be surveyed and when. Does that make sense, Student?"
And there was, I shit you not, a SEVEN SECOND PAUSE, and then he unmuted himself and went "Sorry, what was that? I was sending a text."
And that happened a further three times over the course of that 40-minute meeting. A meeting he had requested the eve of his second chance because he still hadn't done it. A meeting he visibly did not think he had to listen in, or participate in, and thought he could get Gareth to listen to instead.
And then he submitted the new piece, and the only changes were:
He had entirely removed the site background section. It had not been replaced.
He had added in approximately twelve new in-text citations, none of which he'd added to the reference list for us to actually trace.
Which meant he was still heavily relying on the two fake references, and elsewhere in the piece, still had a paragraph that mentioned the museum and visitors centre; and THAT meant that he submitted, for a second time, work containing AI-generated content.
He was withdrawn from the course.)
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sunnys-out · 3 months
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Alexia, mi reinita, mi amor, mi todo | Alexia Putellas x Reader
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A/N: Not me wanting to get this out still on Alexia's birthday like I'm turning an essay in at midnight. Ok honestly I would write a part two of this but that's only if people are interested. Again requests are closed for now.
So it's a little angsty, has a little hurt/comfort (I know this woman gives the best hugs let's be real), and some Alexia fluff.
Based on this prompt list: #4, #20
Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack symptoms
WC: 1860
Alexia had resolved it in herself that she would use whatever leverage she had to have you stay at Barcelona. She was not the type to use that card…she was not that kind of player…the type to threaten to leave to get what she wanted, but the thing she wanted was you. She had tried to speak with some of the staff about it but they were “conveniently busy”. With no success, she texts you “Voy a casa, te veo pronto, amor” (I’m going home, I’ll see you soon, love)  before driving over to your shared home.
Barcelona was dragging their feet with regards to your contract of whether you would be renewed or be traded to some other club, some other league, some other country. You had spent 4 years dedicated to Barcelona and had earned your spot in the midfield. The statistics you pulled throughout your career there were phenomenal, the kind that made your girlfriend proud to see because she was there from the beginning. So why was Barcelona playing a cat and mouse game with your livelihood?
______________________________________________________________
“Alexia, mi Reinita, mi amor, mi todo (my little queen, my love, my everything),
You know that I am better with my words written on paper than spoken to you. You still make me nervous when I look at you; I still blush as quickly as I did when we first met. I write this to you because I’m going to America to Bay FC…the deal has been done and the announcements will be out in a couple of weeks, but I wanted you to be the first to know. 
______________________________________________________________
The amount of times that Alexia had found you at that kitchen table with your head covered by your arms crying out your frustrations at another deal that went nowhere. She would never say a word and just quietly wrapped her arms around you and kissed the back of your head before laying hers on it. Once the crying stopped her hand would gently rub your back until eventually you began to move and pulled her into a hug with your head at her abdomen with a quick whisper of “let’s go to sleep”. Her only words would be “of course, cariño (dear)”.
______________________________________________________________
I know how you are mi amor (my love) but fighting the club is not worth it. It is hard to swallow the reality that the club that I grew up watching, grew up to play in, does not carry the same love and dedication I had for them…for me. You were one of the first people I met 4 years ago when I transferred from my club team in Mexico. It was a big move and you were there to just welcome me in, you knew immediately that I did not take change very well and was uncomfortable with everything. 
______________________________________________________________
Alexia, at some point, blocked some sports news outlets on your social media because of how overwhelming the “(y/n) Transfer Rumor” posts were getting for you. You did not want to leave Barcelona, you had made a home there with Alexia and the thought of leaving all of what you had terrified you. 
You could already hear the comments from the “fans” questioning your loyalty, why you couldn’t just confirm that you would be staying at Barça or leaving the team all together, why you were silent on the rumors? Alexia would be there with her head on your shoulder quietly holding you in the kitchen quieting the noises in your head with a simple kiss to the temple.
“Mi princesa, go sit down.. I’ll make dinner” she’d whisper into your hair as she led you to the table and made dinner while you watched with warmth at the woman before you. 
______________________________________________________________
I remember you would tease me about my accent when I spoke Spanish and said you would give me lessons if I made you a bag after you saw me crocheting mine on the bus to my first away game. I know that the Spanish lessons were just a way to spend time with me. You could have asked me to be with you at any point and I would have said yes. I remember you teaching me how to dance in our kitchen one night after saying that I was worried about making a fool out of myself at my brother’s wedding. I’m going to miss our 3 am dances we would do when I was pacing the kitchen stressed out of my mind on this transfer.
As you said, “Here I don’t want you to walk back and forth alone, just dance with me instead…I'm here”. I still remember the feeling of you under my palms; every curve, every line as I would take the lead of the dance and you would look at me calmly guiding my hands like how you did when you first taught me…yeah I’ll miss those quiet moments the most. 
______________________________________________________________
You had not gone to practice that morning due to stomach issues and you had to basically push Alexia out of the door so that she went to practice. 
“I’ll get some rest do not worry, mi Reinita” You say as she answers with a quick kiss.
She grabs her bags and gives another kiss pulling you in,“I’ll be home as soon as I'm done ok?”.
Alexia entered through the doorway of the shared home and saw several moving boxes littered on the floor. Confused, she looks for you as there is not the usual soft music that you play when you are doing chores and finds you wrapped in a blanket sound asleep on the couch.
Her bag is gently put to the ground as she rounds the corner of the couch. She sees the coffee table littered with papers and your phone with an unread message from her.
She quietly looms over the papers, seeing a copy of your original Barcelona contract, the proposal, the rejection to the proposal, another club offer and, finally, the letter to confirm intention to transfer. Your phone lights up with another notification; getting the attention of Alexia who notices the handwritten letter that remained unfinished under your phone. 
You were a semi - heavy sleeper so she picked up the letter and began to read as her soft smile appeared, fell and then reappeared.  The boxes made sense now, you were organizing your things ahead of time to leave. Seems that you received the news that morning, explaining why the staff were busy when Alexia tried her best to speak with them.
She looked down at your handwriting again…she’s so familiar with it as you have always littered her spaces with sticky notes of encouragement, love and everything in between. You always thought she had thrown them away but on your 2nd year anniversary she showed you the box where she had kept every single note that you had written to her. 
It didn’t matter to her; she kept all the ones that said “Hi Ale, can you get some milk?”, “Reinita, there is dinner in the fridge”, “I’m too lazy, I ordered pizza oh and I guess Patri is coming over?’ 
This letter no matter how long she will keep especially close to her.
Alexia sat at the other end of the couch and began to read the last bit of the letter.
______________________________________________________________
I know that I will be so far from you and that you will miss the things that I do. You were always a romantic like that mi amor (my love). That’s why I am going to leave you my favorite book, the one that I always read way too many times and have cried over just as much. The only thing that I ask is that you don’t open it until I am gone and you are missing me. Just saying not to is going to make you want to open the book even more but please listen to me on this one. :)
I don’t know what the fixtures of the NWSL are yet but I know that you will want to -
______________________________________________________________
You stir and stretch out your legs pushing Alexia in the process. The resistance pulled you from your sleep.
Alexia laughs softly as she pats your leg, “Sleep well, cariño (dear)?” 
You only nod as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Without a word, you sit up and look at Alexia who fiddles with the note that you had written. 
“I wish I was at least awake when you found out, amor (love)” you start as you shift over to be closer to her.
“Are you mad at me?” your head now lying on her shoulder.
Alexia looks, almost, offended at the comment as she turns to you.
“This is your decision, cariño, you know that I will support in whatever you do and wherever you go…I’m sad, yes, but seeing you living out your dreams has been a honor for me…so no I’m not mad solamente bien orgullosa de ti (only very proud of you)”.
She pulls you closer, her hand softly rubbing your arm as she hears the small sniffles coming from you.
“Promise me you’ll watch at least one game” you say softly.
Alexia laughs and kisses the top of your head, “Amor, I’ll watch every one”.
______________________________________________________________
The announcement came and went and so did you. You found yourself preparing for the inaugural season for Bay FC. The fans had taken a liking to you immediately and the management welcomed you with open arms. 
Alexia, remained in your shared home that now was quieter without your presence. The spaces that normally were filled with little posts were bare, the days for chores weren’t filled with your questionable music, and Alexia no longer needed to dance in the kitchen at 3 am.
After a particularly hard practice, Alexia returned home missing you more than usual. As she plopped down on the couch her eyes fell on your book that you left behind for her.
She remembered that you had asked her to not open it until you were gone to your new club.
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, it was the book that you read every year during the summer without fail. No matter how many times you read it, Alexia would see you tear up and close the book to compose yourself before continuing. 
She got the book and opened to the first page and seeing a small, sticky note,
“I miss you, mi reinita”.
Alexia flipped the page and found another one,
“You can text my mom for her soup recipe, she’d only give it to you”
A laugh escapes her as she continues through the book finding more and more of your notes that you had written out. She skips to the end and finds an older looking note.
“I love you, Alexia Putellas…” with the date of your 1st anniversary with Alexia.
And below with newer ink and dated the day that you had left.
“And I… I still love you, even after all of this time”.
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nxrrislando · 2 months
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WHEN IN ROME ೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 o.piastri
𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 — ᝰ.ᐟ SMAU
PLOT ━━・❪ When the spontaneous girlfriend and chill boyfriend end up in rome for an adventure . ❫
WARNINGS ━━・❪ everything written is fake and for the purpose of entertainment ❫
my fics!
❪ IMESSAGE ━━ JANUARY, 2024 ❫
osc🌷🌸💞💘🎀
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| yourusername date me instead, we’d be so good together xx
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landonorris this is new? | oscarpiastri she found a new wowcher mystery holiday🤷🏼‍♂️
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yourusername just exploring, wine pasta, and lots of pasta (he’s sick of me) oscarpiastri could never be
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oscarpiastri rome, what an unreal view
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oscarpiastri😊
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landonorris *my parents oscarpiastri you’re literally older… you know what it dm
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user what?! can i be the flower girl
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| yourusername he said he’d had the ring for a little bit and was planning on later this year but brought it with him in case he felt the moment was right, said he’d been planning since we touched down in rome cause it just felt right, god i love him.
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risuola · 7 months
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DON'T HOLD BACK — F. READER x GETO SUGURU, who'’s as sweet as he's mean to you
If anyone got to know Suguru Geto, they would say that he's really nice guy, very kind and soft spoken, and they wouldn't be exactly wrong, but it seemed like you were the only person in the world that knows that Suguru, your tattoo artist boyfriend, is a meanie.
cw: smut, no-curse au, size difference, spanking, hair pulling, cunningulus, slight description of pain (tattoo related), so many pet names, Geto has tattoos and piercings (yup, that's a warning), there's an appearance od Satoru at the end, reader discretion is advised — 7,9k words
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If anyone would ask you few days ago what will you be doing on friday at 21:38pm, you’d probably respond with a large dose of confidence, that you’ll be resting in your bed. Maybe catching up on your favorite anime because you had no time to watch the newest episode during the week. You’d be lying comfortably, sipping on your favorite, fruity tea and if you’d feel fancy enough, maybe you’d even order yourself a pizza. That’s what you’d assume you’ll be doing late on friday, it sounded reasonable and reasonable is what you liked to call yourself.
Making spontaneous decisions is not a trait you’d give to your personality. You were always the one to think at least twice, usually more like seven times, before you commit to something, especially when it came to serious things such as body modifications or a choice of college. You were an overthinker, a helpless one to be exact, but that got you through life somewhat safely up until the point of reaching the sophomore year at uni. Your grades were fairly good, you had a little circle of people that were close to your heart, and you couldn’t think of many that you’d actually call your enemies. Being called a bore by your best friend was just a side effect of your usually cold and calculated thought process, but it never bothered you.
That was just who you were – a helpless overthinker – so it’s only natural, that you couldn’t find an answer reasonable enough to explain why on earth, on late friday evening, while the clock was slowly but surely heading towards 10pm, you were standing in front of the deep purple, slightly flickering neon sign that read Curseive.
A clever concoction of something so dark and mysterious as a curse and the intricate art of lines and shapes that the font cursive is all about – it hung up high above the entrance, written in a way that mirrored the conflicting feelings and somehow making it work. It was a tattoo salon, a relatively new one in your area, but it already had many good reviews online – or at least that’s what you assumed while doing the quickest research of your life. If scrolling through the messages left by customers for at most thirty seconds could be even called research. Why were you here? You had no clue, but you pushed the doors open and there was that little version of you sitting on your shoulder that wished you’ll just get asked out, because the salon was closing in about 20 minutes, but you decided to ignore the frail voice in your head and move forward.
When you stepped inside, it was empty in the lobby where the little sofa was situated for those who are waiting and a desk that was probably a reception. Dark walls around you were adorned by paintings that on the first glance looked to you like were handmade. Quickly you found yourself lost in the soft sound of buzzing that mixed with the quiet rock music playing somewhere in the background, as you began examining the artworks around you. One of the walls was made into a gallery of sorts, with the photographs of finished tattoos and printed patterns displayed in an array, supplemented with little descriptive notes and sometimes comments, that you assumed were left by clients. All of them were breathtaking and although you couldn’t see yourself rocking most of those heavy inks on your own skin, you were more than happy to appreciate and analyze. The precision of lines, the shading, the colors and composition – all of those tickled your artistic soul in ways not many things could and maybe it was the aesthete in you who stopped you from decorating your own body until this point, because fact is – you thought about getting a tattoo many times before. You really did and even had a pattern you really wanted, but it just scared the shit out of you to think someone could butcher it up and charge you for the mess. So, you never made an appointment. Until now. Now you were determined to do so.
You took one deeper breath, as if encouraging your own self to speak up and make your presence inside more obvious. The subtle scent of antiseptics and inks filled in your lungs as you inhaled, but instead of giving you more courage, you became more nervous. It’s just an appointment, you thought to yourself, you can always call later and say you have to call it off. Yeah, that sounded like a plan in your head and with that plan, your legs automatically moved towards the exit, despite what you wished to do.
“Running away, princess?”
That voice. You couldn’t mistake it for anyone else, you knew the soft, tender tone that even laced with malice sounded so pleasurable to the ear. You knew the owner, although not that close, but you met him many times – not one of them being all that nice. It was Suguru Geto, one of the biggest heartthrobs in your college. He rocked a disposable, black surgical mask that was pulled down under his chin and a pair of black gloves that he was in the process of taking off. Silver earrings glistened in the dim light of the salon, just as his rings were when he finally dealt with the hand protection. Your eyes glazed over the metallic accessories he had on – that also tickled something inside of you, triggering an unknown fantasy of having those long, ringed fingers of him deep in your… Suguru had nice hands.
“I’m not running away,” you told him, hoping that your voice was as firm as you intended it to be. Spoiler alert, it wasn't.
“No? Looked like it.” He chuckled, throwing the latex to the designated trash. His tone was taunting, you felt so small under the weight of his golden gaze. “Are you lost, little girl? You don’t exactly fit in that place now, do you?”
“You’re working here?” The question slipped through your mouth as if it wasn’t completely obvious from the very fact that he was here, alone, equipped in safety gloves and a mask, so near the closing time.
“Do I work here?” He took a look around himself, taking the mask off his ears and throwing it away before once again looking at you. “It’s kinda my place, so yeah, you could say so.”
That actually made sense the more you thought about it. Suguru was your senior, he was two years older and now finishing college. You had some of the faculties joint with his year and you were always the one to sit beside him – by the orders of the teacher, not by your own choice, although sitting next to him wasn’t that bad usually. You can clearly remember that during every lecture, he was doodling something on the screen of his ipad – something that you never really paid attention to because for your own good, you decided that staying away from the so-called frat boys was the best you could do. All this time, he probably was designing tattoo patterns.
“Right, so-“
“I assume, if you’re here that means you’d like to have something inked, is that correct?”
“Y-yeah, but, uh-“
“Are you 100% about it or did you come here to stutter?” You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious about your decisions or just mocking your nervousness, but either way, you felt it in ways you probably shouldn’t. This man had some power in his demeanor, and when he leaned over the counter, propping himself on the elbows and looking at you like a predator would glance at his pray, you felt small.
Suguru wasn’t the typical fuckboy, although he for sure was a magnet for the ladies, thanks to his absolutely stunning visual. That, you couldn’t deny – he was just gorgeous, with his sharp features that somehow still looked soft and inviting, the golden irises of his eyes that never faltered from eye contact, manly jawline and long, luscious locks of black hair that he often tied in a low bun. You never seen him in anything that wasn’t grey or black – white when it really was an odd day – but other than that, he was dressing in monochrome and you truly couldn’t blame him. He was a type to make the most boring sweats set look like the sexiest outfit on earth with just the fact that it was him who wore it. Yeah, he was gorgeous, you had to give him that, or rather blame him for that, because his apparition was for sure going to be the beginning to your end. Speaking dramatically, of course.
“I’m sure.” You forced out, mentally kicking yourself for being caught off guard just because it was him. You were never that taken aback near him, but you were also never alone with him. It was easier to stay indifferent when there were people around, when all of his focus wasn’t targeted at you and when that gorgeous pair of eyes wasn’t gazing straight into your soul. You felt like he could read your thoughts just by looking at you.
“Cool. So, let me close and you’d tell me what’s your vision.”
Suguru found your presence in his studio amusing. He’s seen you at uni, you were quite known in his circle of friends that unofficially were called the frat boys, even though your college didn’t really have this kind of organization. It’s due to your friendship with the cheerleader’s leader, but thing is – although you’re close with most of the fun girls, you were most definitely no fun whatsoever and for some reason, Geto found it interesting. And the fact you never faltered to speak up for yourself… How he’d wish to fuck the attitude out of you. He himself wasn’t exactly the type to party until blackout, drink until sunrise or have a checklist for girls to screw at the college. He had no wish to cross any names off of any list. Aware of his good looks, he used them to their limits to make his way through studies smoother and there were not many things that he couldn’t achieve if he tried hard enough. Even the principal of his faculty had a soft spot for him, so many things he was able to get away with. That being said, if he really wanted to have a girl, unless she was really hooked in someone else, he would probably face no issues of getting her. That’s what he thought, until you came to picture. Considering every charm and trick he had up his sleeve, he was almost certain that getting you wouldn’t be so easy for him, or for any of his friends. And now you were here, in his shrine, trying to sound confident when you most certainly weren’t. Adorable.
You watched him pulling down the shades in the windows and turning keys in the lock, effectively closing you both inside the studio and in a matter of few minutes, you were situated with him on the couch, sitting quite snug as you scrolled through your phone to find the picture of your little drawing. It took everything from you not to melt into his side. The way he smelled was intoxicating, a mixture of cedar wood, pepper and some kind of citrus – a tangerine if you were to guess. And the warmth of his body was so inviting. Before being so close to him, you didn’t even notice how cold you were – apparently your shorts and a sweatshirt weren’t good enough for the October evening, even though during the day it still was way too warm for the fall attire.
Geto waited patiently for you to find the picture you just told him about. The sketch you did that was meant to present him the idea of what you wanted to have tattooed onto your skin and as you were scrolling through your gallery, he took this time to take you in. He noticed that you have a really nice profile. Your lips were pouty, just slightly pushed forward and so kissable right now, as you were focused on the display in front of your face. Your hair looked good also and he couldn’t deny the fact that you looked like you’d perfectly fit into his arms. And on his dick. You were way smaller than him, but that wasn’t unusual – he was a fucking giant, but something in your frame made you appear like you’d slip into his embrace just right and that thought make him go crazy. It’s been quite some time since he found a girl so captivating.
“Here, I found it,” you informed, showing him the screen, and he placed his hand over yours, slightly shifting the device so he can see it better. A hum left his mouth as he analyzed the drawing you did. It showed two betta fishes, one black and one white, positioned in circle, as if they were chasing each other’s tails. The pattern was intricate – the fins were ruffled and detailed, scales bearing a little bit of shading and yet, the whole image was quite a simple one. It also reminded him a little about the yin and yang symbol. He liked the idea, it worked well with his perception of you and what surprised him was the fact that he as well had a little tandem of bettas tattooed on his body and there was no way you’d know that.
“And where would that be?”
“I thought on the sternum maybe?”
“Oh, that’s going to hurt like hell, princess,” Suguru chuckled, already opening the new canvas on his tablet. “How are you with pain?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ll be good,” you accentuated the words with a nod at the end and leaned in a little bit to see what he began to draw. The pencil slid over the grey colored screen with skill that stunned you. Just from memory and the little reference you had in your hand, he quite quickly created the basic sketch of what you just showed him.
That night you spent two hours with him on the couch in his salon, admiring in quiet the process of creating a finished artwork. You enjoyed every second of it, the artistic sequence of lines made something unbelievably good, impressing you to the very core, even though you already looked through the little gallery he had on the wall. Seeing it being put down in real time made it that much more captivating and you didn’t even notice how during the process you glued yourself to him, nearly laying your head over his strong shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.
When he was about to finish, you understood why he chose grey background to work with. As the last step, he dragged the white color over one of the fishes and that really made the whole piece magical.
“That’s perfect,” you told him when he tilted the screen so you could see it better. Taking his ipad in your hands to closer examine the creation of his hands, you nearly gasped at the incredible detail he put into the scales, shading each and every one individually. And the tails were so beautifully drawn, perfectly reflecting how they would just flow in the water.
Geto would lie if he said that the admiration your eyes were overflowing with wasn’t fueling his pride. Sure, his clients liked his projects – obviously, cause they let themselves be tattooed with them, but somehow the sparkle in your eyes sent a shiver down his spine.
“Is that so?” He purred, wrapping his arm around your back and planting his hand on the curve of your hip. There was no protest from you – quite the contrary, Geto noticed you even scooted a little closer, but the reason made itself apparent sooner than he’d expect. Even through the fabric of his dark washed jeans he could feel how cold was your thigh when it made full contact with the side of his leg. He placed a hand over your naked skin to check if his senses weren’t fooling him. “Gosh, you’re so cold.”
“It’s nothing,” you tried to shrug it off, but the feeling of his palm pressed against your plump flesh sent searing impulses through your nervous system. Slowly, you became almost painfully aware of how pleasant the near proximity of him was. How perfectly warm he felt next to you and your mind couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be even closer. You actively tried to suppress those thoughts, but it was damn difficult, when he was just right there, so easy to reach.
“You look great in those shorts, but the summer is over, pretty,” Suguru muttered, his voice just slightly amused as he let his fingers smooth over the supple flesh of your inner thigh. He was so close to where you wanted him to be and yet so far.
“Yea, I know. It was warm during the day though. I was supposed to be home hours ago,” you confessed with a sigh, already thinking about the cold you have to walk through to get to your apartment. It wasn’t far, but if you were freezing inside Curseive, you’d most likely turn into an icicle when you get out, considering it was already midnight.
“Well, let me schedule your appointment and I’ll take you home.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I’ll set you up for next month, so you’ll have plenty of time to chicken out,” he teased, shooting you a wink and making you roll your eyes.
That night, you did many things you’d call unreasonable. You spent few hours in closed space with a man you probably shouldn’t have anything in common, you leaned into him without giving it a second thought. That night you made an appointment to your first tattoo. That night Suguru carried you home in his arms, wrapped in a blanket he kept in the studio in case someone felt cold during the inking process. And that night, you let him into your bed.
If anyone was to meet Suguru for the first time, they’d probably say he’s absolutely perfect human being. Kind and always keen to help, very soft spoken and caring and mostly, they would be right, because he really was all of those things to the public eye. Before, you considered him a red flag, but it turned out, he didn’t leave you alone after he fucked you. You expected him to be gone as soon as he pulled his dick out of you, you expected him to ignore you after that night, but he stayed with you till morning, not even once letting go of you. You woke up to the soft kisses smeared over your shoulder and a little tickle of his hair brushing against your flesh instead of the cold bed.
You spend day after day at learning things about each other. You got to know how he liked his coffee in the morning, what foods he enjoy and what shampoo he uses to keep his hair so luscious and gorgeous all the time. Suguru noted to himself what sweets bring you the most joy, he discovered that the little scrunch on your nose when you’re laughing is the most adorable thing in the world and he also studied the playlist of your favorite music, finding out you share similar taste when it comes to songs. You spent hours drawing with him, creating designs on his tablet while sitting in between his legs, your back pressed to his broad chest. Sometimes he was suggesting changes to what you created and sometimes you were the one to add some details to what came from underneath his pen.
It’s been a month since you got together with him, or at least, since you started paying more attention to each other. With good dose of confidence, you could call him your boyfriend – even though it wasn’t officially talked through between you two, your actions made it pretty hard to deny. It just happened, after the first night together, you just became closer and there was no need to give it a title, when everyone knew you’re in relationship. You were holding hands in the campus, kissing publicly and spending time together for most of the breaks. You got to know his friends, his brothers and even got the password to unlock his phone. Yeah, it’s been only a month, but your bond with him developed quite quickly. Turned out, Suguru Geto wasn’t anything that you assumed he is. He’s lovely, really. Saccharine sweet if he really wants to be, but what no one seemed to be able to notice was that he really is a meanie sometimes.
Just like now, as you laid on the dark leathery bed in Suguru’s salon, already having enough of this whole idea of getting a tattoo and he only just started. To his credit, he did warn you that it’s going to hurt like hell, even suggested picking another place for your first tattoo with real concern in his voice, but you weren’t anticipating this kind of hell when you insisted you wanted it below your cleavage. It really was something you couldn’t compare to anything else in your life – maybe a kick in the shin, but continuous and in the middle of your chest.
Geto was working in focus, keeping his eyes on the pattern he was permanently imprinting onto your skin and taking little breaks from time to time to check on you. Last thing he wanted was you fainting there, and you felt like you were close. You couldn’t even focus on how the chocolate tasted on your tongue – the one he bought you, so you can have something to snack on during the process. The way his needles were stabbing the delicate, sensitive skin of your chest millions of times made you feel sick. The vibration of the machine reverberated directly into the bone below, enhancing the horrible experience and you could have sworn you were actually hearing the pain, while he was going over and over again through some areas. The choice of white ink made it that much worse, because to even make it properly visible, he had to re-trace the shapes more times and you felt each of them.
“Oh, you’re such a crybaby,” he teased softly, noticing the glistening trace of a tear that just rolled down your cheek. “Told you it’s gonna be a painful process.”
“Oh, shut up, Sugu,” you muttered, wiping the salty mark away and taking another chocolate. “Can we take a little break?”
“Let me finish that one and I’ll give you a minute. Sounds cool?”
“Uh-huh…”
You weren’t looking at what he was doing, and those little moments that he promised will get you that breather you asked for seemed to stretch for hours. The constant, sickening poking of the needles seemed to never end and at some point, you really were that close to just yank him by the hair and throw the tattoo gun out the window, just so he’ll stop for even a moment. But the break never came, Suguru just kept going, telling you he needs to just finish that line until the relief washed over you, when he smeared some kind of gel over the area of your sternum. You felt almost orgasmic, when the cold, soothing fluid covered the burning skin between your breasts.
“You can stop crying now, baby girl, we’re all done,” he all but sneered, making sure to cover the entire pattern with the healing formula that he made sure was enriched with anesthetics. He ordered that specially for your session.
“We’re done?” You repeated after him, wiping away the tears.
“Yes, baby, save those tears for me later.” He teased, helping you get up from the bed and you hopped down on the ground to properly see the artwork in the mirror. The skin around the lines was red, but the pattern itself made you gasp. It was made so beautifully, the lines were crisp and very thin, perfectly mirroring the vision you had, and the white ink? Gorgeous. Suguru put his entire soul into your tattoo, it was a mark he left on you that will stay there forever and sometimes you wished he’ll stay with you just as long.
“You’re so mean,” you grumbled, admiring the shapes that now were stuck to you permanently. Geto laughed quietly and wrapped his already ungloved hands around you, standing right behind and checking his work in the reflection.
“And what’s my crybaby gonna do about it?” He couldn’t help the mock and the glare you shot him only made his laughter bigger.
“I’ll ban you from my bed,” you deadpanned, a soft pout forming on your mouth and you slapped his hand away when he tried to undo the only button that held your tiny cardigan together.
“Then I’ll take you to mine and you’ll have to deal with Satoru sleeping with us. You know he can’t help himself and you know how that will end, right?”
“I know, I know…” you sighed, too focused on the lines that adorned your skin to care about the clinginess of Gojo, although you felt the soft cringe washing over you quickly. The artist in you was screaming, giggling and kicking its legs – the tattoo was everything you wished it to be and more. “It’s so beautiful, Sugu.”
“You like it, huh?” Geto smiled, leaning in to have a taste of you. The kiss he pressed to the side of your neck sent immediate shivers down your spine and you tilted your head as an automatic reaction. Your body knew that giving him more space will result in more pleasure. “I like it too,” he purred against your skin. “No bra for you for at least few days, pretty. I’ll be checking.”
“No cum on my tits either, poor little you.”
“You didn’t just call me little, did you?”
“And if I did?”
“Isn’t my dick pretty much the size of your entire forearm?” He joked, looking you up and down in the mirror. It was comical in a sense, to see what buttons you were eager to push when it was clear as day that you’re just tiny next to him.
"I wouldn't say so."
“Oh, you little brat. And to think I felt guilty for making you cry today,” Suguru shook his head and it was you this time who chuckled.
“You shamelessly tortured me for two hours, where’s the guilt in that?”
“I could have tortured you for three. Am I not the best for making it quick?”
“You’d love to make me suffer for longer, wouldn’t you?”
“Not before, but now I might wanna make you cry a little more.”
You shook your head and followed him, so he could put the protective film over the tattoo and once you sat on the edge of the tattooing bed, Geto pressed not only the second skin to your chest but also his lips to yours. The force with which he leaned against you made you almost loose your balance as the metallic frame underneath you squeaked from the sudden weight change. With ease, the man encaged you between his arms, intimidating your small form with his much larger one. You were no match for Geto when it came to sizes. He is a damn giant next to you – tall and broad, nothing but wall of muscle with limbs long and strong. Sometimes, you found it unfair how easily he was able to overpower you, manhandling you any way he wanted, no matter how much you’d fight.
You grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his weight overpowering you and you tried to push him away, desperate to catch some air into your lungs but that desperation only made you mewling into his mouth. The cold metal of his lip piercing never failed to send shivers down your spine, whenever he was kissing you like his life depended on it. He made you feel special, even though you were far from it.
“My sweet girl,” Suguru praised, his words being kissed away by you, because as much as you needed oxygen, you also needed him just a little bit closer. “My little crybaby.”
“I think you owe me some kind of apology for the pain you’ve put me through,” you muttered, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth and swiftly taking the elastic from his hair. The pitch-black locks fell down his broad shoulders, keeping the slightest curl to them from the way they were tied up.
“Oh yeah?” A grin stretched his lips and his fingers immediately found their way to the front of your jeans. “I’m not going to apologize for something you signed up for, but I’ll gladly eat that pussy as a form of payment.”
His remark made you roll your eyes, but any comment you wished to throw at him got lost when he pressed his digits to your clothed clit. Suguru smiled in satisfaction, feeling the wet patch spreading over your panties. Desperate to see it all, he pulled back and took those jeans off of you completely, taking your underwear along with it. Cold air hit your soaked folds, making you shiver as you spread out for him.
“Look at you,” Geto smirked, sitting down on his stool and spinning your panties around his pointer finger, “all wet and ready and I barely just touched you. Or is it that pain you’re so whiney about what made your panties so soaked?”
“Don’t focus on that,” you muttered, snatching the cotton from his hands. “Focus on me.”
“So demanding.” Suguru chuckled, but truth was, as much as he wished to tease you a little more, his mouth was already watering at the sight in front of him. You were a meal he’d choose to have as his last supper, the most delicious dessert he could slurp on for hours and never get bored. Every inch of you, he found to be perfect, you raised the bar of his standards to the point he couldn’t even look at other girls around him. You really got him addicted and he wasn’t even mad about it.
The feeling of hot kisses Suguru was planting all over your thighs made you scoot closer to the edge. Usually, you’d let him do his thing – you loved his mouth marking your skin. You loved the bruised spots he liked to suck on here and there only to claim his place beside you, you loved the soft touches and harsh grips. But now, you really wanted him to jump straight to action. Those nips and kisses can wait.
You allowed your fingers to brush through his silky locks, your nails scratched his scalp along the way and he purred softly before a gasp cut the sound short – it surprised him how roughly you grabbed the strands of his hair, right next to his scull and pushed his head nose deep into your pussy. It was new to him, no one ever dared to tug at his hair and when it was you, he was more than keen to get used to it. The stinging feeling of the pull at his hair follicles sent an impulse straight down to his already erected cock, making it now impossibly hard and Suguru was thanking himself that his work attire that day consisted of sweatpants and not jeans.
You couldn’t help yourself, you knew he had the strength to fight you back if he really needed, so his suffocation wasn’t any of your concerns. And Geto took the challenge with pleasure. His pierced tongue danced over your clit as if he was trying to tattoo his own name over the swollen bud between your folds. The mixture of his hot muscle and cold metal made you whine above him, squeezing his hair even harder, pushing his head even deeper. A low, deep purr that left his throat reverberated through your entire nervous system and sipping into the bloodstream, making the pleasure rush inside your veins instead of blood.
“Oh my god, Suguru-“, you breathed out, coming undone just underneath the skill he had in his mouth. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, like he would die if he won’t bring you over the edge just with his tongue, like he was born to pleasure you. A coil quickly began to form in your stomach, a string threatening to snap at any given moment if he’ll continue with the intensity of his actions. Your thighs trembled, squeezing around his head, but he held them apart with force. He wasn’t done with you yet.
You couldn’t control the way his name was leaving your mouth; it came out like a prayer that he’d love to listen on repeat for the rest of his life. A music that filled his ears with pleasure and that pleasure seeped down, creating a river of ecstasy running down straight to his straining cock. You really got him to the point he felt he’s going to cum in his pants, but then the hold on his hair loosened. He used that moment to catch a breath before going back to his work.
“Don’t hold back,” he purred, keeping your hand where it belonged over his head, getting rid of any guilt you felt regarding pulling at his hair. You came not long after and he happily slurped you through the bliss, licking away everything you gave him, devouring your pussy as if nothing better was ever going to happen to him. “So sweet,” he grinned, finally pulling away. His face covered with your slick and hair messed up from where you held it, and he looked so beautiful like that when you looked back at him. Surrounded by haze of your release, he looked nearly angelic when he got up, pushing back the stool and taking his rightful place between your still trembling thighs. Giving you a moment to collect yourself, Suguru used it to take off his t-shirt for no other reason that to feel your hands over his skin and you were quick to press your palms over his tattooed flesh.
Geto’s body was only one of things that were impressive about him, but unarguably one of the most breathtaking. Years of training martial arts made his shape resemble the stone statues of gods. A hard wall of muscles covered with a light layer of soft skin and adorned by black lines of ink. You never failed to trace your fingers along the dragon that curled around his entire arm and spreading onto his chest. He also had a line of letters underneath the side of his ribcage and two betta fishes swimming up along his spine, following a trace of abstract lines and dots. He had told you once about the meanings beside all of images that adorned his body, but you couldn’t recall them now as he was once more kissing you feverishly. You tasted yourself all over his mouth, you took in his purrs and low groans that vibrated in his throat when you pushed down the waistline of his sweatpants, palming him through his boxers.
Geto grabbed your thighs, repositioning you closer the edge.
“Shouldn’t I avoid any physical activities with that tattoo so fresh?” You asked him with the littlest teasing undertone and he grinned, kissing your lips and everywhere around them with fervor.
“I’ll go slow, babygirl,” he promised, but slow is hardly the word he’d use once he pushed his girth into you. If you were a drug, Suguru was addicted to the point of no return, he never had enough of you, always too little, always eager for more and more and more. You were a godsend to him, a gift he was certain he never deserved but he cherished it with all of his might. Just like with all of his might he began thrusting into you.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking them above his pelvis as if you needed to make sure he’s not going anywhere. Soft pants and whimpers were leaving your mouth every time his hips collided with yours and the sounds you were making concocted an erotic symphony with the low grunts he let slip through his throat. The melodic line of mixed voices, quiet praises and heavy breaths accompanied the desperate squeaking of the bed below you and wet reminders of how he was fucking into your dripping pussy.
Every ruthless push and pull of his hips sent surges of pleasure through your body. Lust and heat erupted inside of you like a volcano and the searing lava of endorphins turned your brain into a flurry. The room around was lapsing, nothing else mattered and even the untrusty bed underneath you, that held there just barely underneath the force of Suguru’s relentless slams couldn’t bother you when he was fucking you that good.
Flaming hot waves of white covered your vision as you hid your face in the crook of Geto’s neck. Panting for air, you held onto his shoulders harshly, digging your nails into the flesh there and marking it in red with crescent moons and scratches. The stinging pain made him whine in excitement, the sound low and prolonged enough to make your walls clench and flex around him. The stretch of his cock was setting your mind ablaze along with your body, your heart was beating fast and threatening to jump out of your chest.
“Sugu-ru-ah~”, you were panting, whimpering shamelessly under the force of his pelvis slamming against yours and he grinned above you, his grip over your hips merciless and bruising.
“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, smearing wet kisses along the line that led from underneath your ear to your shoulder. Something incoherent left your mouth and you felt yourself close, the swollen walls of your pussy squeezing him repeatedly and he knew you were close but wasn’t ready to give it to you quite yet.
It’s like you blacked out for a moment because it felt like you barely blinked and then your position changed. You didn’t notice how swiftly Geto slid onto the bed himself, situating you over his lap.
“Hop on baby, work for it a little,” he mocked lovingly, giving your ass cheek an encouraging slap. There was barely enough place for the two of you, but you made it work anyway, sliding back down onto his dripping from your juices cock. A soft moan escaped your lips as his girth once again squeezed into your oversensitive insides, pushing against every sweet spot on the way and making you shiver as the tip kissed your cervix. Desperate to feel more of him, you began rolling your hips, working your way into the palace of pleasure that Suguru Geto was and making the most out of the current position. His exposed chest and neck begged to be devoured and you couldn’t leave them neglected, so your mouth was on his skin in no time.
Suguru kept bucking his hips upwards, gasping and growling underneath you. His hands left burning marks over your ass, each slap sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body and the little whines you were letting out against his skin fueled the intense fire that burned inside of him even more. Sometimes Geto couldn’t believe you really were with him. Sometimes he wondered if maybe he’s high on something, maybe he’s imagining you, but only thing he really was high on, was you. Nothing could compare to the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock, to the way your little hands were grasping his arms and shoulders just to steady yourself when his force was becoming too much and absolutely nothing could stand even close to the intoxicating feeling of your lips on top of his. You really were made just for him, it had to be fate that once you stumbled upon his studio. He still remembers the first time you let him in, spontaneously inviting him over and after that, every day seemed to be somehow better than the previous one. Every minute he spent with you managed to surprise him with how good it felt. Suguru was hooked on you. But how could he not, when you had the ability to strip him of everything that was cool about him, leaving him raw and sensitive just for you?
“Fuck, c’mon, cry for me,” he panted, forcing your hips to move even when you clearly were running low on power. Your entire body was tensing, the velvety walls of your pussy squelching over his length and he felt himself flexing inside the hot embrace of you. The rush of ecstasy sent him overboard, it filled his veins and neurons with blissful daze of desire, and he found himself chasing the high, bracing for the impact of upcoming climax.
You whined and melted into him, lost in the haze and diving head first into the puddle of pleasure. The feeling overtook you, you couldn’t think anymore when he was pulling you underneath the euphoric sea. You felt light from pleasure, the ferocity of his movements burning you inside out, sending seething waves throughout your entire form. With vision blurred, nothing felt real anymore and if not for the rough grip he had on your hip and ass, you’d probably fly away and never get back.
Lost in the stars and haze of orgasm, you pushed yourself up, encouraged by few more harsh slaps and Geto followed you to sit up for no other reason than to be able to still taste you. At this point you were sure he tattooed not only betta fishes onto your chest but also the imprint of his hands to your butt cheeks. Gathering every last bit of strength you had in your muscles, you rolled your hips against him few times more. All of the intensity that was building inside of you snapped suddenly. Your spine arched and head rolled back, exposing your neck and chest to his kisses as he pushed you over the edge of bliss and you fell off that cliff with nothing but acceptance. Tears of pleasure rolled down your face and Geto was quick to kiss them away as they gathered along your lashes and down your jawline.
The weak sound of his name slipping down your tongue was enough for Suguru to let go. White hot ribbons of cum sprayed deep inside you as you rode him through both of your orgasms, the movements of your hips now slower and sloppier, bearing no more strength in them and yet, time after time you pulled them back and forth, desperate to feel him a little longer, to take more from him.
“My little crybaby,” he cooed, when you finally run out of battery, settling down on him and leaning against his broad chest, hiding there to catch your breath. You were sore, still overwhelmed by the avalanche of feelings that just fell over your head but satisfied to the point of delirium – so much so that you let the little honey-covered taunt slip. Suguru smoothed your back softly, relaxing in your proximity, once again stunned how somehow, you managed to make all of it feel better than the last time you slept together. Highs with you were unforgettable. Nonreplaceable. Incomparable to anything else he ever felt with anyone.
“Thanks god you’re strong,” you muttered against his skin, planting there few kisses while you’re at it. “I don’t think my legs will work after that.”
Geto chuckled. Yeah, he was going to marry you one day.
“No worries, sweet thing, your place in my arms is secured for lifetime.”
“Good.”
“But first, let me get you cleaned up.”
Your legs were weak when you got off of him, but surprisingly carried you enough to allow you to slowly pull yourself together. Suguru cleaned the space a little while you got dressed and made sure the protective film over your fresh tattoo was unharmed during the activities before you buttoned up your cardigan.
* * *
“Suguru, you still here?” Gojo stormed in, even though the studio was locked, but truth was, nothing could really be locked when it came to Satoru.
“Don’t tell me you copied the keys to my studio.” Geto chuckled, finishing the final wipe of the bed. There was no force that could stop his friend from invading his spaces, he dropped the effort years ago.
“I won’t tell you, you got this.” Satoru shrugged and looked at you. Then at Suguru and back at you, repeating that at least few times. “Were you two fucking here?”
“And why would you ask that?”
“No, the real question is, did that thing endure it?” White haired man pointed at the leathery bed. “What a champ, I thought it’ll collapse.”
“Fair,” you admitted at the same time as Suguru, and handed your man the hair elastic that you snatched from him earlier.
“So, what were you doing here? Besides contaminating the area of course.”
“I got a tattoo,” you replied to him and Satoru grinned.
“For real? That chest piece he told me month ago that you’ll for sure chicken out for?”
“Yeah, that one.” This time it was you who laughed and Geto just shrugged, tying up his hair.
Satoru wasted no time, it’s like he teleported to you and before you registered what was happening, he was already unbuttoning your blouse and truly, you couldn’t really be bothered. It’s been only a little less than a month since you really got to know Gojo, but it was very quickly presented to you that him and your boyfriend have a thing for sharing. It was as natural for them as breathing and whenever you saw them together, you wondered how it happened that they weren’t brothers by blood.
“It’s so cool, Suguru. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you tattoo something on me too.” Snow white grinned, examining the concoction of lines over your sternum. He had to bend in half almost, to be in line with the pattern on your skin so you brushed through his hair, messing them more than they were already.
“Not that it’s my life mission to do so, Satoru.” Geto stretched his body and glanced over the room once more, making sure he can close the studio for that day without leaving any visible remnants of what happened just moments ago.
“Doesn’t it kinda look like us?” Gojo asked, stopping you before you covered yourself back. “The black and white contrast… am I the only one who think so?”
It wasn’t your intention, but as he said it, you began seeing it. It really made sense, especially considering that Geto mixed the tiniest bit of lavender ink to the white, to prevent it from yellowing over time. That lavender coincidentally being the exact shade as the undertone of Gojo’s hair.
“Well, not anymore,” the black haired one sighed and once you managed to button up your blouse, he swooped you up into his arms. “You’re gonna lock the doors, Satoru. Turn off the lights.”
“Sooo…” Gojo nearly sang, flicking off the switches and turning the keys in the locks, making sure everything is well secured before he joined you two, already walking slowly towards your home. “Are you ours now?”
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munson-blurbs · 5 months
Note
Can I request something with Eddie x reader in a long term relationship. They didn’t meet until their mid to late 20s. maybe they are out to dinner one time with his old highschool buddies and she hears them joke about how eddie always wanted to fuck a cheer leader. she gets the bright idea to buy a cheer leader out fit with a tiny skirt and pom poms and wears it for him one day
Oh, now this is what I'm talking about. Written with the gorgeous queen of fluffy smut, @corroded-hellfire 💚
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), unprotected p in v, Reader wears a cheerleading uniform, mention of Eddie's crush on Chrissy
WC: 1.8k
Divider credit to @saradika
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It’s not the first time you’ve met any of the guys from your boyfriend’s old Hellfire gang. It is the first time that you’ve been around them as a group, though. They’re much louder in a pack—not necessarily trying to shout, just be heard over the guy who is telling a story next to them. 
The guys are funny though and you’re enjoying getting a glimpse of what High School Eddie was like from those who got to experience it first hand. It wasn’t terribly long ago that they were all in high school together; you’re all only in your twenties. But Eddie seems to groan every time there’s a reminder that the youngest guys in the group can legally drink now. 
“So tell me more about this hellion during his younger years,” you say with a laugh, draping an arm over his denim-clad shoulders. “Because he claims to have been a total badass, but he’s such a teddy bear.” To emphasize your point, you smack a wet kiss to his cheek. 
Eddie blushes but doesn’t wipe it off; instead, he tilts your chin till you’re facing him and kisses you until the group throws wadded-up paper napkins at you both. 
“This guy was definitely not a teddy bear,” Lucas says. “I asked him to postpone one Hellfire meeting so I could play in the championship basketball game, and he put me on probation!”
You look at Eddie, slack-jawed. “Eds!” you chastise him teasingly. 
“It was the last campaign of the year!” Eddie rebuts. “Actions have consequences, Sinclair.”
Lucas rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink, using his free hand to flip off his friend. 
Dustin cackles at the exchange. “Yeah, he was pretty much an asshole to everyone.” His voice is mischievous as he waggles his eyebrows and adds, “except Chrissy Cunningham.”
“Ooh,” you mimic Dustin’s playful tone. “And who is Chrissy Cunningham?”
“Head cheerleader, cute and blonde, super sweet to, like, everybody,” Mike pipes up.
Eddie gets flustered, not because Chrissy was brought up, but he thinks hearing about his crush on her might upset or annoy you. He sputters over his words, which just riles him up even more. 
“I don’t think we need to, uh, talk about that,” Eddie says, shaking his head.
“Why? What happened?” you ask with a frown. It was no secret between you and Eddie that neither of you were popular in high school and had crushes that went unrequited. But Eddie never told you about anything particularly bad happening between him and a cheerleader.
“What?” Eddie asks before realizing what you mean. “Oh, no! Nothing happened. We spoke maybe a handful of times ever. I just didn’t think this would be something you would want to hear about…”
Eddie brow pinches in worry but you just laugh and wave a dismissive hand.
“Eddie, come on. Who wouldn’t have a crush on the sweet, pretty cheerleader? I mean, I had a thing for my school’s star basketball player back in the day. You know that.”
Lucas laughs. “You definitely would’ve hated the star basketball player at our school.”
“Kid was a total douche,” Jeff adds. “Made these obnoxious, over-the-top speeches that had everybody rolling their eyes.”
“So, like Eddie, but athletic,” Gareth chimes in, putting his hands up in surrender when Eddie shoots him a look and then breaks into a grin. 
The waiter brings out a chocolate cake, loudly singing Happy Birthday to Eddie, which promptly puts a stop to their bickering and taunting. The guys lock in on the dessert, serving Eddie the first slice before turning into barbarians over the second. 
You finally manage to snag a slice among the chaos, but your mind is elsewhere. If Eddie was as into cheerleaders like his friends claim, you might be able to finagle one last birthday surprise.
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A week passes from the dinner-turned-impromptu-Hellfire-meeting. Eddie saunters through the door, tossing his keys on the counter. 
“Babe? You home?” His hair is kept in a low bun; it’s easier to work on cars with it out of his face. 
“In the bedroom!” you call back from behind a half-closed door. 
Eddie kicks his boots off in the general direction of the welcome mat. “How was your day, sweetheart?” he asks as he walks down the hallway towards your room. “Mine was pretty good. I just—holy shit.” He comes to a halt in the doorway, jaw dropping open as he stares at you. 
You lounge on the bed waiting for him, a green and white cheerleading uniform on. There wasn’t one with some yellow on it as well like Hawkins High’s had when you’d gone looking, but you didn’t think your boyfriend would mind. 
He stands frozen and it makes you let out a small giggle before trying to regain the seductive air you’d been going for. 
“Wh…What’s all this?” he manages, caught completely off-guard by your outfit of choice. 
“Just your own personal cheerleader,” you say nonchalantly, crooking your finger and beckoning him over. “Wanna see my pom-poms?”
His grin nearly splits his face in two. “Yeah—wait, do you mean, like, actual ones, or…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Ah, fuck it.” He grabs you and pulls you onto his lap. 
“So, do I get to see a cheer?” he asks with a smirk. “A little, ‘two-four-six-eight, who do we appreciate?’”
You kiss his neck and murmur, “kinda figured my mouth would be busy somewhere else.” Your lips down the pale expanse of bis torso and you unbuckle his belt. 
Eddie groans and leans back against the headboard, eagerly watching you. He lifts his hips enough so you can slide his pants and boxers all the way off and toss them aside. 
You make sure to keep your gaze locked on his as you start to stroke him, using his pre-cum to lubricate your palm. “Tell me what you need, baby.”
He inhales sharply, trying to remain focused. “Need you to suck me off.”
You get on your knees in front of him so he can see down your uniform top, and he twitches against your lips. Flattening your tongue against the base of his shaft, you lick up to the head and wrap your lips around the tip before slowly taking him into your warm, wet mouth. 
“Fuuuuuck,” Eddie breathes out, throwing his head back and exposing his Adam’s apple. “Thassit, just like that.”
The tang of pre-cum is salty on your tongue, and you lap it up gratefully. Your fingers dig into the flesh of his ass as you pull him towards you, your nose grazing his pubic hair. 
“So good, goddamn, honey,” he mumbles, more gibberish than logic, “take me so well. Givin’ me the best fuckin’ head of my life.”
You’re more than happy to continue this, cheeks hollowed and tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, eagerly anticipating his cum down your throat. 
Eddie has other plans. 
He begrudgingly steps back, his throbbing cock thwacking against his stomach. If he pulls out of a blowjob, it usually means—
“Bend over, princess.”
You do as he says, palms pressed into the mattress. He quickly flips up your skirt, exposing your bare ass. 
Eddie laughs triumphantly. “Oh, fuck yes.” He taps the head of his length against it before pushing down on your back, giving him a better view of your pussy. “Mine,” he growls in your ear. 
The moan that tumbles out of your lips from his words only increases tenfold when he pushes inside of you. It makes Eddie smirk in satisfaction as his hands grip your hips beneath the pleats of the skirt. His eyes slip closed as he loses himself in the feeling of you around his cock. 
You whine as Eddie bottoms out, fingers grasping at the blanket below you. “God, Eddie, yes.”
Eddie’s thrusts gain momentum and he pulls your hips back against him for every one, never missing a beat. “Shit, you’re so fucking good for me. Your pussy’s so goddamn tight, fuck.” 
“Mhm, uh-huh.” The drag of his cock against your walls leaves you speechless, only able to whine, no coherent thoughts in your head. 
“My cheerleader feels good, huh? Aw, baby,” he coos, “so good you can’t even talk, yeah?”
Even if you had the capability to answer, you wouldn’t have time before Eddie pulls out of you for the second time today and flips you onto your back. Your legs fall open for him immediately in this new position and he wastes no time pushing back into you. 
He leans over your body, slipping his hands up the top half of your uniform. “Most beautiful cheerleader I ever fuckin’ saw,” he purrs as his hands grope your chest.
Your legs wrap around his body, only pulling him deeper inside of you. “So good,” you slur, eyes half-lidded. You feel your orgasm crash over you, waves of pleasure rippling through your body. 
Eddie’s hands slip out of your top and run down your arms until he laces his fingers with yours. He lifts your hands over your head, keeping a tight grip on you as his hips pick up the pace. Now that you came, he can take what he needs. 
“So tight,” he mumbles, breathing heavily. You can tell that he’s close. “Gonna cum all over this pretty little uniform of yours, ‘kay?”
You can only nod, and he leans in and kisses you one last time before pulling out and painting you in his release. Sticky warmth coats the exposed strip of flesh between the top and skirt, some of it staining the uniform’s fabric. He moans out your name as he jerks the last of his spend out of his cock.
“Holy shit,” he exhales, drinking in the sight of you in your cheerleader outfit and covered in his cum. His sexy cheerleader wearing his cum. The thought has him almost up for another round already. 
He leans over to the nightstand and reaches for a tissue to clean you up, but you wave him off. Your hand catches his wrist and you softly run your fingertips up to his elbow.
“Leave it,” you tell him with a smirk. “I want it to stain.” You’ll wake up in the morning to it dried on the uniform, a reminder of tonight.
“Goddamn, baby.” Eddie lets out a breathy chuckle and flops down next to you, completely exhausted. “I was not expecting this, but I’m certainly not complaining.” 
“Well,” you say, a teasing lilt in your voice. You push up onto one elbow, and gaze at him knowingly. His hair is a mess, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. He looks wrecked, and it’s a beautiful sight. “You’d better drink some Gatorade, babe. Because this is only halftime.”
--
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jensettermandu · 4 months
Text
birthday wish - jennie kim
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genre; smut, slight angst, fluff, smut with some plot
pairing; jennie x g!p reader
content; breeding kink, oral (reader giving), spanking, rough sex, degrading, humiliation, creampie (?), brattiness, probably missed something
synopsis; it's her birthday and she only has one wish
wc; 17k+
masterlist
a/n: this was written in two days, sorry if it is not up to standard with my usual writing. i forgot about the bday since i don't usually write for anything special for them
Loud music, drinks (many free ones), dancing, and partying in a way she hadn’t been able to do in a couple of months. She was finally able to party like a teen which had been hard. Jennie had turned 28 and was reaching her peak yet at some point everything had turned sour and bitter in her life. It wasn’t unusual, things would always go up and down and she was old enough to accept it.
What was a lot harder to accept was the break-up she had with her ex-girlfriend about four months ago. The concept of not being good for each other, that loving wasn’t enough if they brought out these bad sides of jealousy, possessiveness, and the fights it would cause. It was a tough fall to break up with someone who she had started seeing when she was in her early 20s–22 to be exact and broken up with later on. That was someone she had spent half of her tweenies with.
That person who she had been at a peak with, who always made her feel like a teen in love. Who flew her through the sky, into a new universe and now had her crash back down to earth after a high that lasted for five years. Five years had been bumpy, but it didn’t matter if they had been trying all the time. There was only so long they could go off of feeling like teens when they were adults. At some point the fun had to be limited, or did it have to be? Did she have to grow up? 
It was her Birthday.
Jennie and her friends had pre-gamed before they went bar hopping.
The idea?
They couldn’t wait for Jennie to get laid now that she was over her ex-girlfriend who they liked to call an asshole. Jennie would argue about that because she wasn’t an asshole. She just loved too hard and so did Jennie. An asshole wouldn’t be able to give Jennie the best years of her life despite having many more to come, nor would an asshole be able to give her mind-blowing sex.
The sex.
Jennie had found herself horny for the past month.
Jennie had found herself pathetically wasting money on sex toys that sufficed for the moment, but not long term.
All that, but she hadn’t been able to go out and meet someone to hook up with.
She was scared she would get disappointed and feel like only one person could satisfy her truly.
The woman wasn’t supposed to be running back to her ex after crying for two months straight, and then managing to slowly start functioning normally on the third and now was the fourth and she was out partying–looking to get laid and fully forget her ex by finding someone who could fuck her good enough.
Fuck it out of her mind, leave her memories a blur.
It was the third place they had been to.
“Anyone hot yet? We’re not leaving until you leave first because you’re going to drop your panties for a stranger.” Lisa was right by her ear as she spoke, shot still in her hand as the dozen girlfriends that Jennie was with had just been served another round.
“You have to lose your post-breakup virginity, babe.” Jisoo came from the other side and spoke into her ear, making Jennie giggle at the slurred words of the drunk woman.
“I’m literally on it, I’ve been standing and looking pretty the whole night,” Jennie argued as she wasn’t the one to walk up to someone.
“To sex!” Lisa’s words earned squeals and shouts from the other girls, Jennie drowned herself in yet another shot. Her world was slowly starting to spin, knowing that in three more shots, she would be perfectly drunk. That type that left her euphoric and not blackout drunk.
“I will be back.” Jennie found herself making it to the bathrooms, there was no line fortunately for her as she walked in. The music was still making her body vibrate despite being muffled in the bathroom that was filled with the chatter of girls in the cubicles and by the sink.
She was trying her best, but it was difficult to just throw herself back out there. There were plenty of fish in the sea, but the deep waters would always be scary and she had just managed to dip herself in it.
She reached into her purse after finishing her quick business as her phone had started to buzz. Her eyes squinted to read the texts that were a tinge blurry, all she could tell was that they were from her friends who had spammed the group chat and made it hard to understand what the topic was or why they were texting incoherent words to begin with.
“Jesus!” Jennie exclaimed at the bang that came on her door, making her shut her phone off right away. Her heart jumped at how scared she got and she planted her hand against the door for safety even if there were other people in the bathroom.
“Knock knock.” Her heart jumped much higher now.
“Y/n?” She questioned the voice that was all too familiar and made her whole body feel like jelly from the second she heard it.
“Hey, sexy.”
“No, definitely not, Y/n–get the fuck away from me.” It was like a disease if Y/n touched her. She would get infected right away.
Fun fact: Jennie lied to her friends when she said that she was over Y/n.
“Happy Birthday, Jen–”
“Please, we’re over, I do not want to see you and you know it, Y/n.” Jennie was desperate for the girl to leave. Her night had been perfect and now that Y/n had appeared from nowhere, she knew what mistakes she would make and how the night would get better because she missed Y/n. The easiest fish to catch for Y/n was Jennie, she reeled her in with ease.
It never was a messy breakup as they agreed on it, but it still took a toll because despite knowing that they at times were no good for each other, they still loved strongly. They loved each other stronger than anyone else, even their families didn't get that kind of love and Jennie loved her mother dearly. Which also made it an easy decision that was hard to go through with.
“Do I? I know that I want to see you, Jennie. I am quite sure you want to see me too.” Jennie heaved a sigh, staring at the stall door while fighting all these urges. She wanted to convince herself that she would stand in this cubicle until her death just to avoid Y/n. That if she walked out of it she would walk right past her and not look back because they were supposed to be looking at their future.
This was the woman Jennie had planned a future with.
She would let Y/n spit that addicting poison right back into her mouth, there were still remnants of it left as she hadn’t moved on.
She unlocked the cubicle.
God, Jennie was weak, as in literally and metaphorically.
Y/n blocked the way as she stepped inside the cubicle and closed it before locking it too. She leaned back against the door and her eyes took in Jennie to the fullest.
The brunette widened her eyes and looked up at the girl who was younger by a few months as she had that usual enigmatic smile that always made Jennie curious about what she was thinking. That always drew Jennie in and made her cling to her and ask about it all, the answers were always the best. Her face was still as perfect as when they met, those eyes that would always gaze with adoration, perfectly plump lips, upturned nose, her slim figure, and all that Jennie always was attracted to when it came to her looks. Although, it had always been far more than just her looks that Jennie was attracted to.
“Sexy was no joke–” Y/n stopped talking, realising that she hadn’t seen her in four months after seeing each other every day for the past five years and living together for the past three and a half. The cubicle was getting Jennie’s scent trapped, the one that made it possible to sleep at night and Y/n had to spray her sheets with it unless she wanted more sleepless nights. The woman was dressed simply yet she made it look complicated with her beauty, a backless top, and black cargos, her figure shown off. Black had always been her colour and Y/n had always loved her in black, from clothes to lingerie.
Neither of them was over the other.
“Y/n.” Jennie said and her hands came up to plant themselves against Y/n's stomach when she stepped closer. Y/n smiled, her hand brushing over Jennie’s bare arm and it was enough to send shocks of familiarity and longing through the kitten's whole body. It was like it was shaking her from how electric it was, it was as if her body was charged right back up and coming back to life.
She sighed and suddenly took the few steps back that were needed for her back to touch the stall and make her somewhat squirm at how cold it was against her shoulder blades. It was overwhelming to have Y/n so close to her, their eyes stuck right together, those emotions of longing, and sadness, yet so much happiness at the back of it all of seeing one another again.
“It was so different waking up today with an empty bed and no Jennie to spoil from morning to night—it was more than an empty bed.” Y/n’s tone fell, one that was loud enough just for Jennie to hear. The slender fingers reached up to the face that held home on it, fingers running along Jennie’s jaw. It was still the same woman, the one Y/n fell in love with.
This was so bad for the Jennie who had lied about moving on.
This was so good for the Jennie who never wanted to move on.
Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand and removed it from her face, although she didn’t let go of it. It felt too good to hold her again. “How did you know I would be here? You weren’t looking for me, were you?” A sly and cheeky smile graced Y/n’s lips at the question. Out of the whole nightlife of Seoul she still somehow managed to run into her. It was the popular area in Gangnam, one they used to head to all the time, but still.
“No, not much better to do on weekends than to go out with friends now that I don’t have you. I knew it was your birthday, so all I did was hope that you would show up at this club at some point.” She had hoped she would at least catch a glimpse of her. It was shot in the dark as Seoul was big and it had been hours since they went out, but all she did was hope that Jennie would head out for her birthday–hopefully without anyone new.
“I’ve missed you–a lot.” Y/n was the first to admit it, her fingers intertwined with Jennie’s as she had never let go of her hand. She raised it before pinning it beside her head, taking that small step that left them dangerously close to each other. Jennie gripped Y/n’s black sweatshirt, unsure if she wanted to push her away or drag her closer.
“I’ve missed you too.” There wasn’t a single nerve in her body that could make her hold back on those words. Jennie looked down at Y/n’s lips as she had licked them. God knew how much she had missed her. It couldn't have been healthy. It made Jennie act out in way she hadn't done before. It made her feel crazy. 
“Are you here with someone?” Y/n knew the question could have many answers, she was praying for one that didn’t involve someone who had replaced her. Could anyone replace her?
“With–” The answer came before Jennie could utter it herself.
“Jennie?” It was Jisoo.
Followed by Lisa. “Are you here?”
“You think she just left?” Chaeyoung questioned.
“Check the stalls?”
The two looked at each other. It would be bad news for Jennie if she was seen with Y/n in the same cubicle right now. There was no way she would be able to explain herself and even if she would be able to–was it bad that she didn’t want to leave just yet? Maybe the best gift she could have received on her birthday was to fill that hole that had been left after an important part of her life had left. Even for one night.
Their silent communication worked wonders still after being away for four months. Y/n stepped back, grabbing hold of the top of the stall as she got on top of the toilet seat while helping Jennie up by pulling her by her hand. The two somehow managed to squeeze on that seat, holding onto one another to not fall.
Even if it was just for a night, it would still make it another memorable birthday.
Jennie didn’t have to tell her friends about it.
“I swear to God if she left with her.” The two looked at each other at what Chaeyoung said.
“Are you sure it was Y/n?”
“Yes, I could recognise that little shithead from miles away.”
“What did you tell them–” Jennie covered Y/n’s mouth so they wouldn’t be heard by accident. It was baffling to the girl to hear Chaeyoung talk about her like that. Had they both agreed to a breakup if Jennie had talked bad about Y/n to relieve her gloom and anger?
“She’s over her.”
“Who knows anymore? It’s like she’s someone completely different without her and it’s not even in a good way.” Y/n’s eyes softened at the words that left Jisoo and Jennie hid her face in her arm as she was still covering Y/n’s mouth.
“Maybe she found a hookup and forgot to text–just send another message because she’s not here.”
The two waited for a good minute before they climbed down the toilet seat and Jennie opened her phone to see the text in the group chat. This time she scrolled up to see that they were all saying how Y/n was at the bar and they were waiting for Jennie so they could leave for a new one. She decided to text them about finding a hookup.
“What did you tell them to hate me so much?” Y/n questioned again and Jennie put her phone away.
“I was pissed okay–cut me some slack if you were the one to walk out the door,” Jennie grumbled and opened the stall as she walked out of it at last. Y/n followed right after her, picking up in her pace as the shorter girl took quick steps until she got to the countertop with the sinks.
“Hey, hey, I thought it was a mutual agreement to break up.” Now Y/n was confused because despite it feeling almost impossible to leave they agreed on it. She thought they both left with the same intentions and the same mindset. They loved each other, but at times it felt like they did love too much and it held them back.
“Yeah, it felt like I had no other choice but to agree when you suggested that we break up.” Jennie had tried to force that mindset on herself, to be on the same page because she knew what the problem was of being together and still living in the past. They needed to grow up. It was stupid, she did want to grow up, but she didn’t want to grow apart. It caused her temporary depression, anger, and frustrations which she took out by bad-mouthing Y/n to her friends. It hurt her to see the woman she had spent five years with just walk out the door as if Jennie hadn’t been a major part of her life.
“Are you angry at me because you didn’t tell me how you felt?”
“Yes, I am because what would it change if I said no? I thought you knew me well enough to understand that I didn’t want any of this, Y/n.” The latter was in disbelief at the words as she stood behind Jennie who was furiously washing her hands. It went quiet between the two of them, the only thing filling the silence was the muffled music and chatter of people around them. No one around them mattered though, they never did when they were together. It was like they were in a different world with each other.
Jennie stopped and held onto the counter, a frown on her face as she looked at Y/n through the mirror. She felt like a fool for being the only one, for thinking that Y/n would be able to read her mind. She knew that it was her fault too because it had been a suggestion and she agreed when she felt like there was no other choice. There was a reason why she had suggested it and Jennie knew that it was valid. She just didn’t want to go through with it and stupidly expected for Y/n to read her mind like some idiot. 
“Come on.” Y/n didn’t answer the question. She couldn’t answer it because she didn’t want to hurt Jennie by making her realise the time they wasted away from each other. Y/n would have stayed. She only suggested what she thought would benefit them both, it did in one way as it let them realise what they truly needed. 
They needed each other.
She grabbed her hand and Jennie was led through the club. She just let her steal her away. It was how they met and she would always let Y/n drag her anywhere like the first time they met at a party where Y/n dragged her away from it only to give her the most memorable night of her life by showing her how to let go.
“Jacket, why do you not have a jacket?” Y/n questioned as they stepped out of the bar and were met by the cold night of January with snow lying around.
“I left it in the car we came in.” Y/n shook her head while exhaling through her nose and removing the oversized leather jacket she had on.
“You’re being stupid–What’re you even planning to do?” Jennie questioned, Y/n was now left in the black loose sweatshirt as she moved behind Jennie. The girl looked back while putting her arms through the sleeves. She was confused, but she couldn’t just walk away. She had no idea what Y/n was planning on doing. They weren’t together, they were supposed to live their own lives, and she had no clue why she had stayed. What was the plan if they were broken up?
“It would feel wrong to run into you and not give you a gift on your birthday,” Y/n argued, coming back around and bending her knees slightly to grab the ends of the jacket to zip it up. Jennie was drowning in the warmth that Y/n had left after her together with the scent that she wanted to bury her face in. It felt like she would maybe regret it afterwards because she was quite sure they would go back to their new lives right after parting ways again. It would feel like the break-up all over again.
“I do not expect anything from you if we aren’t toge–” Y/n didn’t seem to listen to Jennie when she grabbed her hand and made her walk beside her. She didn’t hold her hand like they always used to do, but her palm rested against Jennie’s lower back to make sure that she wasn’t getting lost anywhere.
It was crowded with people, they were flooding from everywhere and Y/n kept walking without a stop. She was stuck with her gaze on Y/n who looked down at her with a small smile. It was enough to make Jennie’s world blind and her heart bounce in a familiar beat. Had she just broken Jennie’s walls down once again, but even quicker than she did the first time? It was frustrating. She let Y/n in so easily when she should lock her out, put up millions of walls, higher than the sky, with no way in or out. 
“Y/n?”
There was so much she could tell her right now and she couldn’t tell how Y/n would respond to any of it.
“I know it’s a lot to ask for after everything, but could you do one thing for me, Jennie? To just forget everything for two hours, three tops.” Y/n interrupted all the questions Jennie would like to ask. She felt horrible to know the truth that they both agreed to something they thought the other wanted. Y/n never wanted to break up with her, but neither did she want to be an obstacle in Jennie’s life. The stupid little fights they had still hurt them both, the last thing Y/n ever wanted was to hurt Jennie, but she still somehow did. 
She knew that she should have known, and maybe she did at the back of her head since she had known Jennie for over five years. Things sometimes just didn’t go as planned.
It wasn’t hard to forget when she was with her again. Y/n made everything bad go away.
“Fine, Y/n,” she still trusted her with her life. She'd jump right back into those deep waters where her only safety was Y/n. 
“Okay, sit down right here and do not run away,” Y/n said after they had entered a convenience store. She pulled the stool out and guided Jennie to sit on it who was still busy figuring out what the girl was doing and why they had to pass so many other stores and stop at this one. With no other choice, Jennie sat and only glanced back at Y/n who disappeared between the shelves. There was slight anticipation growing in her the whole time, she stayed fiddling with her fingers as she rested her hands atop the table.
She stopped for a moment, grabbed the collar of the jacket that was oversized and pulled it up to her nose. The scent had washed off of her clothes at home, the clothes Y/n had left behind had been worn to where the scent no longer lingered on them and she had to wash them. It made Jennie curious how Y/n went through it.
Had she also been pathetically looking through endless photos in her gallery?
Drowned herself in Jennie’s scent?
Had Y/n finished the season finale of the series they had been watching together, but broke up right when the finale came out. Jennie had been waiting even if they weren’t together and would never get to know the end.
Had she been dwelling in all their plans for the future that now only was a past?
Had she been hurting just as much?
Jennie heaved a sigh and let go of the collar, reaching her hands up to her eyes as she knew that she wasn’t over Y/n. She was holding on, she was even out with Y/n even if it would feel like the break up all over again once Y/n would leave. Her fingers gently patted away the wetness that had warmed in her eyes. How did she let go of something that was securing her from falling off the ride?
It was time to stop dwelling when Y/n sat down right beside her on the vacant stool.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” The girl sucked air through her teeth and quickly put the noodle bowl down that was steaming. Jennie looked at what more she somehow managed to carry when she leaned over and dropped the things on the table.
“Since I am no chef, this is the best I could do and the ramen is how you like it.” She started while taking the ice cup and opening it. Jennie slid it over to herself and peeled off the lid fully. It was just ramen with Y/n making it fancier and better by adding more toppings; Jennie was desperate as she could never get it right since Y/n always made it for her the way Jennie loved it. It was just instant ramen, but it was her comfort food which hadn’t been the comfort she had been looking for. It would somehow suffice for now.
“Thanks.” She was a bit more than thankful, but she wasn’t sure how else she should thank her.
“Don’t thank me, it’s your birthday.” Jennie chuckled at that as she grabbed the chopsticks and looked at Y/n who poured the mango-flavoured iced tea into the cup with ice.
“Very thoughtful to drag me to a convenience store.” Y/n shook her head and picked up the cup, taking two big gulps before placing it back down.
“Yeah, God forbid I drag you to a fancy restaurant–don’t worry though…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie moved back slightly when she reached over to her. She smiled at Jennie, her face just a few inches away from Jennie’s as she reached over to the other side. Y/n’s hand reached into the right pocket of her jacket that Jennie had on while sitting on her left.
Jennie wasn’t sure what she wanted when Y/n was so close to her. One thing she was certain of was that she missed all of Y/n’s loving and caring touches, the ones that always touched her soul. Jennie missed being held in her arms, falling asleep with them around her. She missed the safety, the security that came from being in them, and the feeling of not having to be afraid to be herself because she trusted Y/n so much.
She grabbed what she was looking for with a sly grin as she pulled away. “If you celebrate, you have to celebrate right, don’t you?” Y/n let out in a more hushed tone that was still honeyed and Jennie could listen to her talking all day. That was something she had done because Y/n always had something to talk about.
The kitten parted her lips at the flask Y/n had taken out of her pocket, taking the cup down and placing it between her thighs. “Since when do you carry a flask around?” Jennie questioned, the last time she had seen Y/n with one was when they were still in college. It kind of worried her that maybe the girl had started drinking. Y/n let out a breathless chuckle, unscrewing the steel flask before filling the iced tea back up to the brim, but this time with tequila.
“Only today.” She reassured Jennie and lolled her head to the side to look at Jennie. That smile did not leave as she put the lock on, the flask back in the left pocket instead and she put the straw through the lock before mixing it up. 
Jennie rolled her eyes as she, at last, started to eat the instant ramen that tasted better than most things she had ever eaten simply because it was made by Y/n. It also was something that killed all her cravings that were caused by the alcohol and food had simply never tasted better. Y/n always knew just what Jennie needed by looking at her. Yet she had somehow missed how Jennie never truly wanted to part ways.
“Just don’t inhale everything, I want a bite before you do.” Y/n laughed when Jennie elbowed her, making Y/n squirm away. “God, you’re rude.”
“Stop being a little piece of shit, Y/n.” Jennie seriously said and looked at Y/n who was already looking at her through her lashes with the straw in her mouth. “Not cute.”
“I tried.” Y/n said in defeat and handed the large plastic cup to Jennie who slid the ramen over to her with the chopsticks. “Oh, my bite is gonna come with extra flavours since there are Jennie germs in it.” Jennie hurt her throat when she swallowed the lump of iced tea with tequila before she could spit it out because she felt that huff before she giggled.
“Stop acting imbecilic.”
“Imbecilic, big words for a 28-year-old. I can say that I’m proud of you.” Jennie rolled her eyes and watched Y/n slurp up a bite of noodles with a hum after. “So good–”
“Don’t.” Jennie stopped her before she could say something stupid again and pulled the ramen back to herself. It was all coming right back, just being with Y/n for a few minutes, starting a conversation, and she was reminded all again why she loved her so much. How she made her feel so good about herself, how she cut Jennie slack by being herself which let Jennie drop all her guards down right away and be herself too. How she was back to feeling ten years younger and like she could just be herself for the night or whenever she got back home to Y/n–used to.
“Here, the monster is coming for your mouth, Jennie.”
“You did not just say that out loud Y/n.” Jennie giggled, the younger girl holding the gimbap and guiding it towards her mouth as it was still in one piece. Y/n gasped and looked at Jennie in disbelief. “Ew, why are you being dirty-minded, Jen.” She slapped Y/n’s shoulder, her cheeks hurting from how much she had been smiling and giggling. It didn’t matter if Y/n had asked her to forget everything for a few hours, Y/n automatically made her forget everything.
“You are, I didn’t say that I had something dirty in mind.” She defended herself. The two did not care about the rest of the people who went in and out of the store, or the people passing by the window. The radio played the most recent K-pop songs to fill the store, but all they could focus on were each other's words, giggles, and stares which were numbing all the pain.
Y/n grinned and shot her eyebrows up in a manner that suggested that the next words to leave her mouth would be far from appropriate as she still held the gimbap up ready to feed the feline. “Well, you can surely open wide enough for it to fit–” Y/n squeaked at the pain when Jennie this time hit her thigh, hitting a nerve because the pain made her hunch over.
“Not fitting at all.” Y/n chuckled at the words that came from Jennie and she looked up at her as she was still hunched over. “Is the joke not fitting or the gimbap?” Jennie groaned at that and Y/n sat up straight.
“Okay, here comes the train–Better?” Y/n asked.
Jennie hummed and opened her mouth as Y/n went back to trying to feed her a bite after they both devoured the noodles together. She grabbed hold of Y/n’s writs to make sure she aimed right and at last managed to bite off a piece. The latter reached over to Jennie’s face whose cheeks were fluffed out from having her mouth full.
Her finger brushed the corner of Jennie’s lips who only turned her head more to Y/n as she was used to it. The girl always fed her, always wiped her mouth, always knew what to order, what was needed in which mood. She scooped up the grain of rice and licked it off her thumb before poking Jennie’s cheek who whined.
“You’re still as cute when you eat, God I could squish the literal life out of you until there’s a bloody explosion.”
“That raises many warnings, Y/n,” Jennie mumbled as she swallowed the food at last and watched Y/n take a bite herself while Jennie took a sip of the iced tea that they had drunk a third off. It had made Jennie more than just a bit tipsy now, the drunk slowly incoming, but she didn’t mind as she could tell that Y/n was in the same state.
“It should because if I were to use enough pressure to squeeze you, you’d die.”
Jennie widened her eyes and slowly turned her head to the side to glance at Y/n.
“Why are you saying these things?” She questioned and Y/n fed her another bite.
“I don’t know, they are just these impulsive things that leave my mouth so be careful if they become actual gestures.” Jennie shoved Y/n who was laughing yet again.
The girl always did the most random gestures of affection towards Jennie. Say these words that were somewhere between cute and concerning, but Jennie loved it all. The way she would do more than just buy her flowers, all these small things Jennie had always taken notice of. She’d go as far as to perfectly place Jennie’s slippers beside the bed so she could slip them on right away when she woke up. Now Jennie’s slippers were mostly discarded messily because she always kicked them off when getting into bed with no Y/n to fix them.
“Hold on, or we will get there next week.” Y/n stopped and let go of Jennie’s hand that was clasped with hers, the older one swaying them back and forth as she was walking in a mix of steps, skips, and whatever else she was doing with her feet, dancing her way to the next destination which was slowing them down. Y/n needed to be there on time. 
“You got me drunk.” Jennie sang out, shuffling in place with her feet.
“We’re in the same boat, Miss Kim.” The said girl giggled as she had been slowing them down by doing everything but walking. Y/n pulled Jennie to her by the jacket and she crashed into her.
“Where are you taking me?” Jennie questioned and Y/n turned around.
“Get on my back first.” She ushered and bent her knees.
“Want me to mount you like a stallion?” Y/n snorted at that.
“Who is dirty-minded now?”
“It’s a disease carried by you,” Jennie replied and grabbed hold of Y/n’s shoulders with her hands. She huffed and Y/n stumbled a step before managing to stabilise herself with her arms wrapping around Jennie’s thighs. 
“Now I’m carrying a parasite–ouch.” Y/n winced when she got gently bonked at the top of her head before she looked to her side. Jennie peeked in with a smile on her lips, her arms loosely wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders whose eyes were creasing from her smile. 
“Well? Walk, horsie.” Jennie ordered and gently nudged Y/n with her heel as if she were an actual horse.
She did start walking, making it out of the Gangnam district much quicker despite her legs needing some stabilising to not fall as her coordination was slightly off and she was carrying Jennie. The girl on her back rested her cheek against the side of her head, snuggling closer to Y/n to keep her warm as she still had her jacket on. She had already planned how to end up with the jacket at home because she knew that Y/n would walk her to the entrance of her apartment building at the end of the night. She never let Jennie walk alone at night, she’d always pick her up with the car if Jennie didn’t drive, or she’d walk with her. It didn't matter if Jennie was with friends or if Y/n was busy, she would always get there. 
“Y/n…” Jennie mumbled, looking ahead as they continued to walk, Y/n adjusted the girl on her back as they were close to the destination. She hummed, glancing down at Jennie’s fingers to see the girl tugging on them and she could tell that whatever it was it was something that made Jennie worried or uneasy. “Did you–did you try seeing anyone during these four months?” She asked, dreading the answer because she had no clue how Y/n had spent these past four months. If she had spent two whole months crying, a month trying to leave the house without bags under her eyes or if she skipped all of it.
Y/n chuckled, giving her thigh a squeeze that made Jennie whine at the ticklish sensation. “God no, I’ve been staying with my mum at this big age and working from home. I didn’t leave the house and just stayed with mum even if she continuously scolded me.” She admitted. She hadn’t even thought about another woman aside from Jennie. Y/n couldn’t tell how many hours she spent in bed crying while listening to the 'Disintegration album by The Cure'.
Jennie felt relief wash over her to know that she hadn’t been the only one. It made her feel less of a fool and made her feel better. It was confirmation that they both took it hard because they both loved each other.
“What was she scolding you for?” She curiously asked.
“Not obvious for your little pea brain?” Y/n questioned.
“Never mind then,” Jennie grumbled, rolling her eyes and Y/n stopped walking.
“Get off me now–” Y/n wiggled Jennie off of her, the girl sliding back down onto her feet, her hands letting go of Y/n’s shoulders when she was fully off. It felt cold and if they were both honest neither of them wanted to pull away. “She scolded me for leaving you and said that I would never get the family ring to propose to the next girl I would meet because you were the only right one and worthy of having it.” It made Jennie’s heart drop as Y/n grabbed her hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. It hurt, it hurt them both badly to know that the planned future was in the past.
They had both agreed to wait for marriage and a family until they were at a perfect place in their lives. There was no such thing as a perfect place in their lives when it had been perfect ever since they met. The only thing they had to wait for was to finish studying and have stable enough jobs to start a family. Nothing could have been more perfect and they had waited long enough for a perfect moment to never come now.
Jennie sighed and looked down at her feet as she walked in sync with Y/n. The realisation of actually being 28 now hit her, and if she would ever move on, she’d be too old to start that family of two kids. Unless she would rush into it all. The anxiety started to eat at her as she had never processed what being 28 meant. What did it matter if she was working her dream job if she was earning money that let her live comfortably, if she was in a stable place in her life? When she wasn’t even close to stable in her love life that was dead.
“We’re here.” Jennie looked up from the void under her that was ready to swallow her as it had started to drag her down and had invited her to suffer with endless anticipatory fear. Over the five years she had spent her birthdays with Y/n, she had managed to forget how depressing they were. How anxious they had always made her. Another year had just passed by and there were things Jennie had yet to do. She had forgotten how much she hated birthdays.
Y/n took out her phone and looked at the time it was 11:09 P.M. and Jennie gasped when Y/n tugged on her. “Quick before it’s too late.” Jennie found herself running towards the Banpodaegyo bridge whose neon lights were glowing. People were walking along the bridge, but Jennie and Y/n were running like their lives depended on it.
“I’m gonna fall,” Jennie whined as her legs were barely keeping up with Y/n’s longer ones, to add she was still under the influence and her running felt bumpy and very unsteady. They made it onto the bridge, Jennie tried to slow down, but Y/n did not let her and continued to run. “Y/n!” The girl let out in panic, making Y/n look over her shoulder at Jennie who was doing her best to keep up. The two were too occupied to care about anyone who would glance their way. Her shorter legs were messily trying to run and she was sure she'd run into something if Y/n wasn't guiding her as she felt herself leaning to one side more. 
It soon turned into giggles and Y/n finally stopped, letting Jennie crash into her when she turned around and yanked her into her. Her arms wrapped around the panting girl as they made it to the middle of the bridge. “I could have died.” She tiredly complained, heaving for breath as she was not the best athlete after drinking. Y/n chuckled and grabbed hold of Jennie’s waist, gently pulling her away and looking down at her as she looked up.
“You’re being dramatic–” Y/n said and turned Jennie to face the Han River, the kitten leaned against the railing and looked over the dark river where the moon was being illuminated. She let out a sigh, taking in the scenery while fog left her mouth from the small pants of air. 
The younger one busied herself with digging through the pocket of her loose jeans. She got nothing and put her hand into the left one and finally stumbled upon what she was looking for. “Okay, here–you have to throw the coin into the water and make a wish, it’s about to be 11:11 and it’s your birthday so whatever you wish for has to come true.” Jennie turned her head and looked at Y/n with some confusion before letting her eyes fall onto the coin in Y/n’s palm.
“Y/n, I’m not five–” She was cut off by Y/n who took Jennie’s hand and put the cold coin in her hold.
“You are never too old for wishes, I have never heard of that law.” The younger seriously said and Jennie sighed as she turned back to the river. She looked down at the coin in her palm before she clutched it in her hand while Y/n leaned beside her and waited patiently. “Make sure to close your eyes, it’s 11 now.” She reminded her and watched how Jennie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Despite trying to protest at first she seemed to be in deep thought as her brows creased slightly and she was focusing hard.
Jennie threw the coin and opened her eyes as she stood on her toes to follow it with her eyes, but lost sight after a second as it got swallowed by the darkness. “When will it come true?” She asked and looked to her side at Y/n who was also looking over the railing too.
“You have to wait and it will come, could be in the next hour, day, week, or years, but at some point, it will come true.” Y/n reassured her before she pulled away from the railing. This time she took out her earphones, putting one in her ear.
Jennie frowned as she now was invested in the whole ordeal and wanted to see if it really would come true. Would she have to wait years?
“Come on,” Y/n grabbed hold of Jennie’s hand and the girl was somewhat hesitant to leave now that she had made a wish. Scared it wouldn’t come true if she left.
“But it will come true, right?” She asked to make sure while taking the one earphone that was handed to her.
“It’s the best day to make a wish since it’s your birthday, so obviously yes.” Jennie took one last glance before she clung to Y/n’s arm.
‘L$D - A$AP Rocky’
The two walked in silence through the rest of the bridge, rather admiring the moment in silence than filling it with chatter while listening to the music. The peace still managed to create memories as Jennie felt nostalgic and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was walking with Y/n again or not. Her side leaned into Y/n who put her arm around her shoulders as they walked instead. By the time they made it to the end of the bridge, the next song started playing and Jennie was so familiar with them that it confused her.
‘As Long as You Follow - Fleetwood Mac’
“You won’t mind if I take you to one more place?” Y/n questioned and Jennie looked up at her with docile eyes. She blinked them as they had glossed over and there was a lump in her throat for whatever reason. God, she did not want it to end. Jennie wanted this night to last forever. If she could somehow make it last forever she would do just that. Everything to not have Y/n leave her by the end of the night. Jennie shook her head as Y/n could take her to the edge of the world and she wouldn’t mind, she could drag her across all continents and she would be content.
The song was warming Jennie's soul, the lump pushing itself in her throat and she couldn't get over it. She almost wanted to curse Y/n out for playing Fleetwood Mac as they always listened to the band together. Y/n especially loved them. It was as if Y/n wanted to make her cry by playing this song and Jennie was forcing the tears back despite a few strays falling only to what she thought was her knowledge, forgetting that Y/n noticed everything about her. Her lips quivered and her heart thudded heavily. 
Y/n hauled a cab and opened the door for Jennie who was citing all the songs.
‘Wot’s…Uh the Deal - Pink Floyd’
All of them weren’t necessarily songs Jennie listened to, but what Y/n listened to as she had a wide range of music tastes. She could still remember how excited Y/n would get to play them to Jennie on the guitar, acoustic or electric, it didn’t matter. She would sit down with Jennie and teach her how to play certain songs and help the girl get better at the string instrument. Sit right behind her and teach her each fret, tab, and chord that had to be played. She would always be so patient. 
‘10:37 - Beach House’
Her eyes gazed through the window as she held onto Y/n’s hand who had her arm around her shoulders. The night slowly passed, people still roamed the streets, and lights turned red before turning green, Jennie only watched how the time passed while the car moved through the streets of Seoul.
‘Five String Serenade - Mazzy Star’
If she couldn’t make this night last forever, she would like time the time to pass by slowly. To make it last as long as possible, or for the road to never end and sit in Y/n’s arms her whole life. That way all her worries about her uncertain future would disappear. She would disappear in these songs while loving whatever simple things came to her as long as they were from Y/n. 
‘What kind of love - Childish Gambino’
“Where are we going?” Jennie asked at last as she hadn’t heard where Y/n was taking them. She just followed. Y/n gave her a cheeky smile as she looked down at Jennie. Her hand untangled itself from Jennie’s two and she used it to brush away some of the hair that was falling in her face before letting her hand fall back down as it was resting around Jennie. The girl clung back onto it, playing with Y/n’s fingers. “You will see in a second ‘cause we’re almost there.” Jennie pouted at that and rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.
‘Teenager - Deftones’
She started to feel like she had been thrown in a time capsule as the view of the Seoul tower was much more clear now. Jennie moved from Y/n’s hold and looked closer at where exactly they were heading. Her sight was somewhat blurry from the alcohol that she had consumed, but she knew that she wasn’t drunk enough to be this delusional.
‘Bel Air - Lana Del Rey’
“Why are we stopping by the cable cars?” She questioned and looked back at Y/n who paid the man who had driven them from the bridge to the cable cars that went up to the tower. Jennie wouldn’t be questioning it all too much if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was closed.
“I rather take a cable car than walk a dark trail at night, Jen,” Y/n said with a chuckle and opened the door before getting out. She held it open and Jennie got out with the girl’s help, bidding one last goodbye to the driver before closing the door to the car. With that she led the way, still dragging a confused Jennie with her.
“It’s closed though.” She deadpanned. It closed at 11 P.M. and it was 11:45 P.M. and Jennie’s birthday was almost over. She was starting to feel like Cinderella and soon enough she’d leave and leave everything behind her. Maybe this would be her last time with Y/n. It didn’t add up in her head and she didn’t want it. Although she felt like she wasn’t the one to make this decision, she was too scared to do it. What if she would get rejected?
“I helped a client invest and win a lot of money. He’s connected to the news Channel who owns it and since he was going to give me a bonus I asked if he could instead fix this for me.” Y/n explained and the girl frowned.
‘When the Sun Hits - Slowdive’
“Okay, and how did you time it all so well that it happened to be now that you ran into me?” Jennie questioned with some suspicion. Y/n chuckled, the kitten looking at her to see the dimples showing and she squeezed her smaller hand.
“Hey, I told you that I hoped I would run into you earlier and so with that hope, I picked this date and if I hadn’t run into you, I would have gone with one of my friends or alone.” Y/n shrugged it off as she knew that Jennie would realise soon enough as the strongest effects of the alcohol had slowly started to subside. They were approached by a guard and Y/n confirmed her identity as Jennie was digging in her blurry brain for what it exactly was.
It wasn’t long until they had made it up the stairs and the cable car was open and waiting. Y/n let Jennie get on first before getting on after the door closed. It was in queue when the next song started playing and Y/n laughed.
‘How You Remind Me - Nickelback’
“It doesn’t count if you aren’t screaming the lyrics Jennie—And this is how you remind me.”
“Y/n…”Jennie shied away like she always did.
“Come on, it’s just us—” Jennie looked unconvinced for a second as they sat in the cable car that was riding up over the dark forest, over the empty road. She giggled as Y/n pulled out the invincible guitar as the pre-chorus started. It was somewhat between childish, but also freeing as Y/n turned up the volume. “Sing or you are flying out.” Y/n threatened.
There truly never were any reasons to hold back when she was with Y/n and they always screamed songs until they lost their voices.
“It’s not like you to say sorry!”
Maybe it was because she was still under the influence, but it could be Y/n’s influence or the alcohol. She found herself singing the whole song with Y/n, knowing every word of it while sharing the invincible microphone with Y/n. The second Y/n laid her eyes on Jennie the girl had that big gummy smile that she adored so much. It was a smile she always wanted to be the cause of and she knew that it wouldn’t be possible if they were away. Unless Jennie still smiled this big whenever she looked back at the memories they had made together.
It was that feeling of being back in college, of being back together with Y/n. Screaming songs, wandering nights, getting lost in what love was for them. It was overwhelmingly good and it was sentimental whenever she looked back at those times. They had never been lost as she knew that Y/n let her live it all over and over again, but that was when they were together. Love was something only Y/n could make her feel on this type of level. The one that healed all the time, surely forgetting all the suffering she had done the past four months. 
“All we need to do now is start a band together,” she found herself giggling at Y/n’s words, burying her face in her shoulder as they took out the earphones. She wrapped her arm around Jennie, rubbing her back and unable to even try to let the smile fall. Compared to the Jennie she first cornered in the bathroom, it was like seeing the Jennie she left, being able to bring her right back to life. The Jennie she never should have left even if they both agreed that it would be better. At times there is no such thing as the right thing to do, but possibly people could forgive the mistake when all she had in mind was the best for the girl.
Jennie heaved a sigh and suddenly, as if lightning struck her and woke her up, she realised what it was. Her lips parted, but before she could say anything they had reached the top and their fingers intertwined as they walked out. With a man from staff, they were led to the tower and then to the elevator.
Y/n looked down at Jennie, she kind of figured that the woman had figured it out by now. She looked almost devastated as her gaze was on the floor.
She felt like crying, she wanted to hate Y/n for doing something like this to her, but she couldn’t. This was probably the best gift she could have received, but the biggest problem was that she didn’t have Y/n. They walked out of the elevator, it was silent with just the two of them and Jennie let go of Y/n’s hand as she walked over to the windows. The whole thing was overwhelming as she was keeping her tears at bay and bit her lower lip, taking in a shaky breath as she looked over the view of Seoul at night in the tower that was closed to everyone but them…again.
Y/n put her hands in her pockets to warm them and stood just a step behind Jennie, being able to catch the woman’s reflection in the window. She had realised and Y/n had been expecting Jennie to get emotional because she was always a soft and emotional kitten.
“Those were all the songs we listened to that night in the exact order.” Jennie pointed out as she realised why the songs brought her so much nostalgia and why the order of them rang so many bells in her head. She wouldn’t have noticed otherwise, but the order was just right and now they had screamed the lyrics in that cable car once again while reaching the top. It all came rushing to Jennie.
“I know,” the taller girl simply replied, but she had hoped the whole night that Jennie would realise.
Now it made sense why they walked past so many convenience stores before they at last walked into that specific one.
“But you said that you put on shuffle with over 5k songs in your liked ones,” Jennie mumbled and lifted her head to catch Y/n’s reflection. The view was mesmerising, but what Y/n had done, what she had given her as a birthday present was much more meaningful and mesmerising than the view. It made Jennie turn around to look at her, a pout resting on her lips as her cheeks were stained with a few tear streaks.
“I made sure to put them all in a playlist until we stopped listening, which was when we left the cable car back in 2018, January 16th when we first met and I stole you from a club.”
Jennie jutted out her lower lip as Y/n had always been thoughtful, had always done small gestures that meant the world to her, and had been loving and caring. She hated that she had to be all those things when they weren’t together. It wasn’t fair. “Why?” Her voice cracked and her nose pricked before the tears won and spilled over her eyes.
Y/n gave her a soft and gentle smile, taking her hands out of her pockets. Her hands came up to Jennie’s face as she cupped her cheeks which were cold and soft in her hold, wet with tears that were warm on her cold skin that was tinted a light pink like her nose. She leaned into her hold with a sniffle, the ice on her skin melting at how good it felt to be in the warmth that was home.
“I kind of figured out that night that I would marry you and you seemed to be in bliss because of the night—so I thought that if I were to mess up big along the way I could replay the night for you and make it good again by doing exactly what I did the first time we met and then got together shortly after.” The girl admitted. She had regretted every moment away from Jennie because what she thought was right truly wasn’t. Her last hope was to show Jennie what they were together and hope that even if she suggested it, Jennie would want her right back. It was a stupid mistake, but everyone made them. Y/n just hoped that it wasn’t too late to fix what was broken.
She at least didn't want Jennie to hate her, hoping all she could leave were good memories after her. 
Nothing was broken though. They were only broken away from each other, but it was like kintsugi the second they were right by each other again.
“I regret even suggesting it but I was thinking of you—” Jennie didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t blame Y/n. She had seen it from Y/n’s point of view and she knew how she always put Jennie first.
“I know that you were. I think we needed to be away from each other to truly realise how much we need one another to never take the other for granted or do anything to lose each other. To remember how much good we brought each other.” Jennie mumbled and Y/n huffed in relief through her nose as Jennie had always been understanding of her thinking and how she didn’t mean to make things more complicated than needed. It was enough for Jennie to forget the bad and only remember how much good they had brought, how much that had changed their lives in only good ways and she would forever cherish that.
She let go of Jennie and pulled her in for a hug, the shorter girl wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist. She shed her last tears into her shoulder while Y/n soothed her, kissing the side of her head, and rubbing her back while holding her firmly. Jennie couldn’t tell what she was crying over anymore, but the relief made it impossible not to cry. She was still trying to comprehend how they after six years did everything they did the first time they met on Jennie’s birthday.
How Y/n somehow convinced Jennie to leave the club with her (she forgot safety the second she saw the girl).
She had dragged Jennie to that exact convenience store where they ate the same things, and Y/n mixed mango iced tea with tequila that they shared.
When they left and got to the bridge where Jennie made the wish and threw a coin in. A wish that came true because her drunk self wished for Y/n to ask her out despite meeting just an hour prior. 
How they listened to music after (those exact tracks) and took a cab.
The only difference was that Y/n had managed to lie their way into letting them take the cable car and be in the tower for just a few minutes.
After that, Y/n walked Jennie to her college dorm and got her number before they parted ways.
They had taken a cab back to the place they used to share where Jennie stayed alone now. Y/n took the elevator up with Jennie who was now opening the door and as she did– “My baby boy.” Y/n cooed as Kuma ran out barking and jumping at her legs as she hadn’t seen him in four whole months. She picked him up, moving her face away as he tried to lick at her.
“I feel bad for even saying this, but he stayed every day whining by the door and waiting for you,” Jennie admitted as she stood in the door frame, removing her sneakers and pushing them aside. She looked at Y/n who was crouched on the floor with the dog going crazy in her arms. The little puppy they had gotten together because they had still been young and wanted some kind of family together. 
“I am so sorry, Kuma.” She apologised, feeling almost just as bad for leaving him as she did with Jennie.
Jennie bit her lower lip, watching the two as Y/n put him down, but he started to run around her and barked some more. Kuma wasn’t letting Y/n go, just like Jennie didn’t want to let go. “You could come in, Y/n…” She suggested and Y/n looked from the floor, a glint in her eyes as they trailed from Jennie’s legs, over her whole body before they got to her eyes.
“Nightcap?”
“Yes, just get inside.” Y/n chuckled and picked up the dog before stepping inside the familiar apartment. It was a home, it used to be at least, but what made it a home was Jennie. She slid off her shoes as Jennie walked further inside. Her feet led her to the living room that still looked the same and the other woman wasn’t there yet as she trailed to another part of the apartment. She slumped down onto the couch and put Kuma in her lap.
Her eyes landed on the marble coffee table and she leaned closer while petting the dog. She chuckled at the thought that came to her mind. “Jennie?” She called for the woman, and the sound of her light footsteps came from behind as she left the kitchen. She hummed and Y/n turned to her, taking the whiskey on the rocks that Jennie handed her. “Did you manifest this?” She questioned and looked back down at the Polaroid photo of her right by the candles.
Jennie groaned at that as she saw how it looked. “No! I did not. I like candles and it just happened that I left it there before leaving the apartment.” She explained in her defence. The photo had been behind her phone case for all those months until she left today with the plan to hook up with someone. God forbid one of her friends would see her still carrying that picture after she purposely made Y/n look like she was a jerk behind closed doors—she wasn’t. Now it was lying by the candles and looked like she had been sitting and manifesting all of this.
“So, I’m the only one?” Y/n questioned as she took out her phone and placed it upside down on the coffee table. A polaroid of Jennie in the case and she took a sip of the cold hard liquor while glancing at Jennie who walked around to sit on the couch. The jacket she got to borrow was discarded as she left it in the kitchen just to make sure that Y/n would forget it.
She rolled her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest before taking a sip of the golden brown liquid that hit her taste buds. It made her somewhat wince as she was always between liking and hating whiskey depending on the brand. “First of all, I took it out today, second, I'm not obliged to carry it around,” Y/n gave her a look as she knew that Jennie was trying to get on her nerves. She loved playing those little games where Y/n would piss her off and she’d do it back. Part of why she told her friends things that weren’t true.
Jennie loved being petty like that and was getting back at Y/n right now.
“So, you’re not going to put it back?” She questioned, taking sips from the crystal whiskey glass, the ice clanked around in their glasses while they looked at each other.
“Nope, it would get in the way, wouldn’t it?” Y/n helped Kuma down on the floor before she reached back for her phone. Jennie watched the girl with intensity and felt something boil in her when she saw Y/n open her case. “What’re you doing?” She seriously asked. Through the months just the thoughts of Y/n seeing someone else made Jennie kick and scream in emotions that were green and red. She was ready to pay people to stay away from her and hire people to pull every person Y/n would try to be with apart. 
“Your picture will get in the way.” She shrugged, quickly taking yet another sip of the whiskey and putting the glass down. It let her use both her hands and Jennie found herself placing her glass down too. It was boiling inside Jennie and she wanted to strangle Y/n for even uttering those words.
“No, you don’t get to do that.” Her tone went into that angry one that Y/n knew. Not angry even, emotions she only felt when it came to Y/n who she couldn’t stand thinking about being with anyone but her. She would be jealous, she’d die in jealousy, she lost it when she saw Y/n being approached by women who had clear intentions of flirting–she knew that Y/n at times gave in to the flirting just to see Jennie jealous and angry.
“I think I do if I want to find someone to hook up with–” Jennie clenched her jaw and moved onto her knees as she faced Y/n. She tried to reach for her phone but the girl held it away from her, making Jennie crawl to get closer and try to reach for it. “Weren’t those your intentions tonight when you went out and took out my picture? Oh, I clearly remember what Lisa said in that bathroom.”
“Stop that.” Jennie snapped as Y/n was reaching to remove the polaroid. It made Jennie grab hold of her arm with both hands and tackle it down onto the couch.
“You little bitch.” Y/n grumbled as Jennie snatched the phone out of her hold, lying across her lap. She tried to reach for it with her right hand since Jennie was lying with her upper body on her left one. The kitten bit Y/n’s hand when she tried to take it, busy adjusting the picture so it would be back in place. She hissed and pulled away to see a bite mark on her skin right under the knuckle of her thumb.
“Hey!” Y/n exclaimed.
“Hey.” Jennie mocked and tried to open Y/n’s phone only for her face ID to not work. She gasped as her face ID had been removed, she tried the pin, but it wasn’t working either.
“Jennie.”
“Jennie.”
“Give me my phone before you block it.”
“Give me my phone before you block it. Who do you have on here that you changed your PIN and removed my face ID?” Jennie continued to push Y/n’s buttons who had been pushing hers. That brattiness came right out as she was ready to give her attitude because she couldn’t phantom that Y/n had done these things. Furiously, she continued to guess the pin with all the important dates and numbers Y/n liked.
“I told you something.” Y/n tried to reach for it again while trying to wiggle out her other hand that Jennie had in a death grip. It only got smacked away.
“I told you something. How ‘bout you do something about it?” Jennie pushed and looked over her shoulder with a frown to ask about the pincode. “What’s–Ahh, Y/n.” She whined when the palm collided against her ass making her squirm at the pain. Jennie had almost forgotten about how horny she had been until that pain shot to her clit instead. She felt somewhat embarrassed and her head fell as she kicked her feet with another whine. It was so unexpected that she had no clue how to react or feel. 
“Stop being a pain in the ass.”
It went silent and Y/n waited for what Jennie would say or do. That smack just came naturally and she hadn’t controlled it. Whether Jennie was pissed or not, that spanking wasn’t something she could take responsibility for when Jennie worked her nerves so well.
“Stop being a pain in the ass.” She mocked once again, imitating Y/n who groaned. The little giggle that came from Jennie who lifted her head didn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you laughing?”
“Are you laughing?” Jennie knew exactly how much Y/n hated it when she would imitate her without an end. The thoughts made her lift her ass slightly, wriggling in Y/n’s lap as she pushed it out. There was a tension between her legs and she wanted it gone.
“You’re so annoying.”
“You’re so annoying. Cry about it, Y/n.” She hissed at the girl. It was soon followed by something that was between a groan and a moan as Y/n spanked her ass once more which made Jennie raise her hips and writhe into the couch cushion. That sensation made her cunt throb and slowly start leaking as she clenched her thighs for some relief. It was hard to control as her ass purposely tried to invite Y/n for more as it was turning her on.
“Tell me what it is, Jennie. Why do you need this?” Y/n questioned and looked at Jennie who was still clutching the phone. She huffed and lifted her head, looking over her shoulder and at Y/n. A little smile on her lips, one that was mischievous.
“I did some things you wouldn’t be happy about–been a very bad girl.”
Y/n gripped at the underside of her thigh just under her ass, squeezing it and making Jennie squirm at how ticklish it was on her sensitive thighs.
“You have?” Jennie bit her lower lip and nodded her head.
“What did you do?”
Jennie purposely lifted her hips and arched her back, being on her knees with her hands stretched out in front of her, chest pressing into the couch. She let go of the phone, Y/n’s eyes on the ass that was in the air and she moved her hand up to it. The kitten jutted her lower lip out in feigned despair. “I’ve been out the whole night looking for someone who would fuck my needy little pussy because the toys haven’t been able to satisfy me…” She looked even sadder now as if she's been having the hardest time of her life because of these things and what she said after seemed to be even more devastating for her. “There hasn’t been any cum in me for so long, no one to fill me, breed me, no cum for me to clean up–I’ve been feeling so useless and empty.” She mumbled, with tears brimming in her eyes.
“So, it’s not my fault for looking for someone to do it,” Jennie added in her defence. The heat shot right to her clit again, her ass burned in the best way possible as she could only moan when Y/n spanked her again.
“Y/n, it’s not fair!” She cried out despite enjoying it. The latter was growing hard, thinking about Jennie’s snug and pink pussy that she’s missed being inside of. The one she missed abusing, filling with cum, if not her other holes. Jennie loved it all, she especially loved cleaning up the cum that leaked out of her after.
“How is it not fair? I’m not the one who's been walking around like I’m in heat and looking for strangers to fuck me.” Her hand ran over Jennie’s inner thighs before she made it to the girl’s pussy which was covered by the black cargo pants. It was enough to make Jennie whine and try to rub her throbbing cunt against the hand that cupped her heat. Y/n’s other hand stroked along Jennie’s bare spine which was warm and arched to show off her ridges.
“It’s my birthday.” Jennie slyly pointed out.
“I’m supposed to give in because of that? Give you a free pass?” Y/n asked, gently rubbing Jennie’s clothed cunt. The girl desperately tried to push her hips more into the hand that removed pressure every time she tried. It was keeping her on the edge as she pathetically continued to try and hump at Y/n's hand.
“Yes. Please creampie my pink and tight little pussy and make me a mommy tonight.” The erection was now straining against Y/n’s jeans as the offer was one she did not want to pass on despite it giving Jennie a free pass. Her brain cells reasoned with each other, agreeing on it being Jennie’s birthday even if it was past 12, but it didn’t count until they went to sleep and woke up. Her eyes gazed into Y/n’s, practically daring her to do it.
“Get up,” never in her life had Y/n seen Jennie get up so fast. The girl always liked to take her time simply because she wanted to or because she wanted to annoy Y/n. The giggly and horny Jennie ran towards the bedroom with Y/n taking long strides right after her.
The bedroom was also the same with Jennie on the bed unzipping her pants. “Hey, hey, slow down,” Y/n complained and the feline pouted when her hands were pushed away from the fly of her cargo pants.
“I’m so horny though.”
“I can tell that much,” Y/n commented with her hands pulling Jennie up to sit. Her arms wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders and she pulled her down, hands gripped at her waist and she got her breath taken away. Jennie melted and healed when she finally had Y/n’s lips against hers again. She didn’t want to wait when she tilted her head and opened her mouth for the tongue to push against her. It tasted of whiskey, it was just as intoxicating and was washing over her body, injecting itself deep within her veins.
One person could only satisfy the other.
Jennie couldn’t even satisfy herself when she was horny. Y/n knew just how to eat her out, stuff her with cock, fuck her, make her orgasm and beg for more.
She swallowed Y/n’s tongue, sucking on it and the girl groaned when Jennie’s hand came down from her shoulder and rubbed at her cock through the pants. It was making Jennie’s clit throb painfully, just feeling Y/n’s cock was making her try to clench her thighs that Y/n stood between. Both her hands went to the bulge, rubbing at the outline while undoing the zipper with her other while Y/n threaded her fingers through Jennie’s hair.
“Please, please–” Y/n cut Jennie off who pulled away and was about to plead for her to start fucking her.
“I will, but you have to show off for me first.” She pried Jennie’s hands away from the hem of her jeans and pulled her up onto her feet. “I know it’s your birthday, but you said yourself that you were a bad girl, so this is the least you can do.” Y/n ushered and smiled at Jennie as the girl squinted her eyes.
The girl was determined to show Y/n exactly what she walked out from. Her eyes were laced with seductiveness even if the girl was stalling her orgasm. The girl reached into the pocket of her pants and took out her phone, Y/n smiled bigger and leaned back against her palms as the smart home speakers started to play Champagne by The Weeknd . Jennie turned around and tossed her phone onto the dresser.
Her eyes watched Jennie’s every move and her fingers grabbed hold of the small piece that was tied at her side to hold the shirt against her body. She pulled it, slowly, Y/n’s eyes stuck on the slim back and just watching her was enough to make Y/n’s chest heave even more. Jennie undid it, her hands running over her body, tugging up the open-back shirt with her before letting go as it fell back down. Y/n waited in anticipation, almost regretting it as she couldn’t wait for Jennie to remove the shirt and turn so she could see her chest.
Her body gently moved to the music, her fingers ran over her arm and over to the one strap before she gently tugged it down. The other hand ran under her shirt towards the other strap. She made sure to let out a light hum to let Y/n know that she ran over her breast before she reached the strap. Jennie slid them down her shoulders, the shirt fell with a soft thud to the floor.
She had yet to turn around though.
Instead, she finished undoing her pants and proceeded to bend over with her fingers hooked around the hem. It couldn’t have gone slower, the way she slowly started to pull them down her ass, revealing more and more of the flesh and lacy material of her black cheeky underwear. They went up her ass as she got the pants under her cheeks. Her ass was plump and pushed right out with her puffy pussy, the woman’s back arched and her eyes coming to peek over her shoulder. Her feline eyes were clouded by lust and she looked back in front of her as Y/n looked hypnotised.
She pulled them further down, revealing her creamy thighs inch by inch while making sure to show off how agile she was by slowly bending herself in half. It wasn’t until they were resting by her calves that Jennie started to get down on her knees to the music. The girl was holding back from dragging Jennie to bed now. She got on her knees, her back straight and showing off her perfect posture as she slid into a side-sitting position with her legs on one side (left), the pants fully discarded now. Her hand came over behind her and dragged her hair to one side of her shoulder, looking to the side while doing so. The movements were soft.
She moved her legs further, taking them in front of her and spreading them open. Her palms planted behind her and slowly slid against the rug, reclining herself back. It was hypnotising, her chest at last coming into view, more and more until she was lying on her back. Jennie loved showing off her body, especially to Y/n and no one else. Her body was just for Y/n and whether it was her birthday or not, a striptease was just as satisfying to her as it was to Y/n. (She was also aware that she had to pay for what she did when trying to look for someone else.)
She couldn’t begin to explain how much her clit started to throb when she caught the look on Y/n’s face. The wetness was gushing as she loved being admired by Y/n. It was almost enough to get off for Jennie. Her hand came between her legs, her hips moved in a fluid wave like motion when she whined them into the fingers that brushed over the slick material, fingers threading into the rug as her eyes closed. She continued to run her hand up her body, fingers feather-likely running over her skin which made her chest heave and body move. A soft moan slipped past her lips when she brushed over her nipple until she reached her throat.
Jennie was quick and agile in the way she smoothly turned from her back and onto her stomach. Her eyes were almost predatory the way she looked up at Y/n while slowly pushing herself up, ass coming up first with hands stretched out in front of her until she pushed herself forward and was standing on all fours.
Slowly she crawled the small distance like a cat over to Y/n, her hips moving, her back still arched. Jennie reached the girl and got on her knees while looking at her through her lashes, her hands grabbed hold of Y/n’s knees, pulling her legs apart to get between them. In one smooth motion, like waves, she slid up, getting on her feet and coming face to face with Y/n, her hands holding onto Y/n’s shoulders.
“Am I excused for being bad?” Jennie questioned, her chest heaving, as if she ran a marathon, but the arousal was just getting overwhelming. She could feel how sticky it was between her legs, everything spilling and smearing on her inner thighs. The underwear piece was ruined. Y/n licked her lips and grabbed her hips, looking down at Jennie’s chest, her nipples perky, her breasts plump.
“More than excused—you deserve to not only get your pussy stuffed but also eaten.” There was that vocal fry in Y/n’s voice that Jennie knew so well. It meant that she would get her pussy messily devoured. She squealed when Y/n got up and put Jennie on the bed, she pushed her back and leaned down. Fingers threaded into her hair when she attached her lips to Jennie’s chest first.
It was eliciting small whines and gasps, the tongue swirling her nipple, teeth gently tugging, the other being roughly groped the way she liked it. Y/n wrapped her mouth around as much soft flesh as possible and sucked before licking. Jennie’s hips were pathetically bucking at the heat that was bubbling in her stomach because of it. “Y/n!” She cried out at the way her nipple was pinched between Y/n’s fingers, the girl tugged on the bud after and started to kiss down to Jennie’s cleavage.
“Please, I promise, I taste so good,” Jennie begged as Y/n was kissing down her stomach. The kitten squirmed when her nipple got flicked, the bud more swollen and red now as Y/n had abused the sensitive nub that was stiff.
“Have you been cleaning up your messes lately?” Y/n asked with a smirk, glancing up at Jennie who had her head thrown back with her back arching, hips desperately pushing into Y/n. She whined, not wanting to answer the embarrassing question as she had been feral trying to fuck herself right only to make a mess but not orgasm hard enough. This time she cried, slightly kicking her feet when Y/n twisted the same nipple again.
“Answer, Jen.”
“I lick my fingers clean because they get so messy.” She admitted in a whine, her cheeks even more flushed as it was now just flowing out of her. Jennie always got so wet, and someone had to clean it after. Y/n was well aware of how Jennie would always leak with juices. The videos she’d send of playing with her pink pussy when Y/n wasn’t there to eat her out, making sure to show how she would lick up the sticky mess of her fingers after getting as much as possible on them. She loved sucking Y/n’s cock, especially to have cum shoot into her mouth that she’d swallow.
“You want me to taste you?” Y/n continued to tease as she was on her knees and Jennie pushed herself up. A look of desperation on her face, tears welling in her eyes as it was hurting now. “Yes.” She watched Y/n who hooked her fingers around her underwear and she started to tug them down. They clung to her wet cunt, pulling a sticky mess with them as Y/n peeled them off and dropped the ruined material on the floor.
“All for you.” Jennie surely invited the girl who was on her knees in front of her by spreading her legs, her hand coming in between her legs. She bit her lower lip as Y/n watched her use her fingers to spread her glistening and puffy folds. Her hole was clenching in greediness as her arousal was slowly leaking out of it, running down her ass and onto the sheets. She ran them over to her clit, showing the swollen bud by pulling back the hood. Y/n smiled and gently removed Jennie’s fingers as she had shown off her cunt enough.
The girl waiting, finally in the only suitable outfit on a day like this, in her birthday suit.
“I will make sure to take it all.” Y/n reassured her and Jennie’s hand gripped onto her hair while Y/n moved Jennie’s leg to wrap it around her shoulder. The girl groaned as Jennie forcefully pulled on her hair and shoved her face fully into her cunt. She gasped, squirming and grinding her hips into Y/n’s face when she licked right up along her slit, tongue spreading her lips. The taste washed over Y/n’s tongue, it was addicting and she moved back down, her tongue flat against the heat as she licked up from the sopping hole, bringing it all up to her clit.
Jennie’s lips stayed apart, breaths desperate and the sounds falling from between them as she couldn’t control it neither could she control the squirming into Y/n’s face. “Fuck, Y/n–more, I want more,” she whined, her eyes falling closed and her back hit the mattress as she couldn’t hold herself up.
Y/n sucked onto her outer lips, sucking them in and teasing with her tongue, dipping down and nudging the grasping hole with her tongue, swirling it which made Jennie gasp and writhe for more. However, she would feel bad if she teased Jennie for too long as the girl had been all ready since they entered the bedroom. Her hand gripped Jennie’s hip to ground them and control their whining as they weren’t controlled by the nymphomaniac that Jennie was.
“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much, the way you fuck me.” Jennie cried out when lips wrapped around her clit, the tongue firmly flicking at it at a perfect angle. Y/n ran her other hand over to Jennie’s hole, her one finger teasing around the hole while she continued to flick at her clit. Her tongue moved quickly, harshly flicking back and forth as it always made Jennie’s thighs quiver, trying to close around her head and leave the girl unsure of what to grip onto or how to act.
Her juices were smearing over her chin, running down and creating a mess and Y/n couldn’t help but dip down for more. The pleasure didn’t stop for Jennie who gyrated her hips into Y/n’s nose while the girl lapped at her hole, gathering the stickiness on her tongue before bringing it back up. She swirled around her clit before she wrapped her lips around it and suckled hard enough for Jennie to moan louder and arch her back off of the mattress. The birthday girl had always been vocal and sensitive to all touch when it came to Y/n. She was quite sure it was because of how many chemicals her body released around her, the oxytocin overflowing.
With ease, Y/n pushed two fingers into Jennie who sucked them in right away. Her walls were warm and throbbing, continuously clenching around the two slender fingers that started to push into her. “So close, I want it,” Jennie mumbled, a few coherent words coming from her now and then as she was lost in the firm and slick muscle that worked her swollen and pulsating clit while fingers pressed against her g-spot. She could feel it coming, the way her stomach started to drop and heat up.
“How bad do you want it?” Y/n gruffly questioned by pulling away for a split second before going right back.
“So bad, I will cry if I don’t get it–play with my pussy until it hurts. All yours.” The words flew out of her blabbering mouth, gasping and falling out of breath. She had been longing for more than Y/n and her love, but this type of love too.
“I love it, you fuck me so good with your tongue. Oh God–” Her chest heaved, her fingers tangling themselves in Y/n’s hair who groaned at the pain while eating at Jennie’s cunt. The mess ran down her chin, down Jennie’s ass, staining the sheets. The sounds were lewd, Jennie moaning, gasping, and whining, and the way Y/n was eating her pussy was making the wet sounds bounce off the walls in the room from the licking and sucking. The younger let out her moans and groans at how much she enjoyed having Jennie squirm while eating her out.
Her thighs shook while clenching around Y/n, her voice strained, her body spasming as she arched off the bed with her hips bucking into Y/n. Jennie lost control of her voice, cries flying out as everything disappeared, her ears ringing and her vision dying out. Her hand flew to her breast, grabbing hold of it as she had no clue where else to grasp. Her walls clasped around Y/n’s fingers, thudding around them as the orgasm crashed through her. It went on for a good few seconds as Y/n didn’t stop and continued to flick at her bud.
It wasn’t until Jennie was panting for breath and instead of pulling her into her pussy she was pulling her away that Y/n stopped. She slowed down, gently cleaning up the mess that Jennie’s cunt was, the girl wriggling under her from the kittenish licks lapping up the juices. Her body relaxed at last, slumping into the mattress and closing her eyes, her pussy palpitating from aftershocks.
“No…” She whined, convulsing and closing her legs with her hands flying between them as Y/n was no longer between them. A heat ran over her at the painful slap that landed against her swollen pussy, the sound wet and harsh.
“Don’t you want my cock too?” Y/n questioned and the girl opened her eyes, looking at Y/n who was using her black sweatshirt to wipe at her chin and mouth. It made her pussy clench at how it was missing Y/n.
“I do.” She dragged out and pulled herself up, her hands grasping at Y/n’s sweatshirt and pulling it up. The latter helped her by fully pulling it over her head and discarding it to the floor with kittenish hands pawing at her slim stomach before they dropped to her pants. Although Jennie didn’t pull them down, she instead moved onto her knees. “Hurry up, my pussy is waiting for your cum, baby.” She purred out while turning around and getting on all fours, showing off her ass and dripping pussy while looking over her shoulder at Y/n. Her ass pushed out for Y/n as she arched her back to further the invite.
“You’re so bad.” Y/n groaned and fully undid her pants, letting them pool around her ankles before she kicked them to the side with her boxers. Jennie bit her lower lip, eyeing the thick and long member, the tip bulbous and red, leaking with precum, the long vein dragged on the underside and Y/n’s slim and veiny hand came over to it. She stroked herself, her other hand caressing the plump outline of Jennie’s ass who only pushed more into her.
“Such a bad girl after not getting my attitude fucked out of me…I get so mean when I don’t have your cum stuffing my pussy.” Jennie agreed, drawing her words out while lowering herself until her chest pressed against the mattress.
“I need–” Jennie stopped Y/n who was about to get to the bedside drawer where she knew condoms were. They always hit it raw, but she wasn’t sure if Jennie had continued with her birth control after four months of being alone.
“No condom,” it wasn’t an ask, but more so a demand. Y/n didn’t mind condoms while Jennie hated them.
“You’re on birth control,” Y/n concluded and went right back to place, guiding her tip between Jennie’s folds who let her head drop at the feeling that sent shivers through her spine.
She bit her lower lip, forcing the smile to not get too big as she couldn’t wait longer as she confirmed Y/n’s conclusion. “Yes.” A sigh followed when the stretch came, Y/n’s tip pushing inside her, spreading her open, splitting her folds and disappearing into her sopping and snug heat. It was squeezing her cock as a moan slipped from her mouth. The warmth of Jennie was so familiar, it was leaving her cock to throb the further she slipped inside the confines of her pink cunt.
The brunette whined, her insides twisting at how good it felt, the cock too big for her smaller body as it was always a tight fit and a big stretch for her to take the girl behind her. Y/n stopped as her pelvis met Jennie’s ass, filling her to the hilt with her hands gripping Jennie’s hips. Her lips parted at the feeling as she stalled any movement and got lost for a second in just the feeling of having Jennie around her.
However, Jennie wasn’t nearly as patient. “Are you going to fuck me or act like a virgin who wet their dick for the first time?” It brought Y/n right out of her drowning thoughts at the rude tone of Jennie who sounded annoyed.
“What?” She breathed out.
“Fuck me or I will find someone else to do it.” Jennie loved digging her own grave. At least she got buried with her back being blown.
“Who else will fuck you this good?” Y/n didn’t wait for an answer as she pulled out almost fully before Jennie was sent flying forward when she slammed her hips back against hers. It drew gasps and moans from Jennie as Y/n proceeded with the deep and hard thrusts. The thick cock dragged along her tight walls, and the wet and squelching noises got louder as Jennie's pussy was a mess. Y/n’s pelvis slapped against Jennie’s ass and started to fill in with moans, groans, whimpers, and gasps. All occupying the room.
Jennie bunched up the sheets in her fists, her face buried in them. She could feel the curved tip abusing her g-spot as it continuously dragged along the soft and spongy spot in her. The cock was hitting deep in her, filling her and hitting the right spots that she wasn’t even able to hit when fucking herself with all kinds of toys.
Her moans were erotic, they fueled Y/n on who was going carnal as Jennie’s pussy, body, voice, and everything else always had that effect. The brunette's hips started to meet Y/n’s thrust, clenching and helping her drag her cock in her pussy.
“Fuck, your cock is so big, it hurts so good.” Jennie moaned as the pain always mixed with the pleasure.
Y/n huffed, biting her lower lip as she moved one hand and landed its palm against Jennie’s ass since the girl was pushing it out for her so much. It was followed by a mewl from the birthday girl.
“Are you going to take all my cum?” Y/n groaned out, the answer taking a second too long and earning Jennie’s bright red ass cheek another spank. The heat only shot right to her clit and she couldn’t feel embarrassed about it as she loved every second of it. “Everything, I’m going to keep it all inside and be a mommy,” Jennie whined, the words only made her clench more as her own words fueled her.
“You look so good with cock in you, your slutty pussy takes it so well.” Y/n complimented, her eyes falling on where her hard cock was disappearing. The wetness was running down Jennie’s thighs, and her pink folds spread because of the cock that was drilling into her cunt which was growing sore. She was sucking Y/n in, doing everything to milk her and get her cum as she forgot about wanting to orgasm. All she wanted was to be creampied and keep it all inside for as long as possible because it made her feel full.
“Only you can play with it so well, fuck it until it hurts–your cocksleeve, for you to warm in and empty into.”
“You love being used.” Y/n threw her head back, her fingers digging into the flesh of Jennie’s ass and hips. The thrusts were hard, the bed squeaking with every stroke inside the snug sleeve that Jennie was for her cock. The smaller girl moved with each thrust that was throwing her forward, making her grip harder to stay in place. 
“Yes, yes, yes.” Jennie spewed out, the tension in her stomach started to grow and Y/n could feel how much tighter her walls started to get around her. Her hand dropped from Jennie’s ass and went right under her, pushing onto her lower belly, able to feel herself bulge the small brunette's stomach. It was making Jennie dizzy, the pressure grew and she was getting sent right back into floating.
“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come so hard around your cock, Y/n.” Jennie cried out, writhing in the sheets as she pulled on them with her hands. Her jaw fell slack, the moans going up in pitch and the heat flashed over her, the cries slowly coming in breathless as the control was lost and she couldn’t tell what was going on.
Y/n continued to pound her, the tension slowly easing from Jennie, although her mind remained clouded. Her body was warm and covered in a sheet of sweat. “I’m so close.” Y/n groaned, her tip twitching.
Jennie could feel the cock grow harder in her. “Fuck, breed my cunt, Y/n–shoot it into my womb.” She intentionally clenched her walls and Y/n’s hips stuttered, Jennie, pushing her ass flush against her to get it all shot deep in her. It filled her even more, Y/n and Jennie both moaning. Rope after rope of thick and creamy cum painted her walls white, making her hum at how good it felt to be filled so well again.
“So good,” Y/n mumbled, her body collapsing onto Jennie’s who slumped down on her stomach. Her chest heaved as she peppered kisses along Jennie’s warm shoulder. The kitten hid her face in the sheets, the cock growing limp in her throbbing cunt as she tried to get back on a normal breathing pattern.
“Happy birthday, Jennie.” She let out a breathless chuckle and Y/n slowly pushed herself up.
“It’s not my birthday anymore.” The brunette mumbled, turning onto her back and raising her knees, trying her best to keep the cum within her walls. Her soft eyes fell onto Y/n, dreading it as she was scared that she would leave. The night was over, and so was her birthday.
“It’s the 16th until you go to sleep.” Y/n reminded her and she smiled, biting her lower lip while Y/n reached for her boxers, pulling them back on.
“Y/n…” The latter looked up at Jennie who was already looking at her. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave.” She mumbled.
“Jennie–” She cut Y/n off right away.
“Please, even if it’s just for the night.” She begged and Y/n chuckled
“Why on earth would I leave?” She questioned, baffled that Jennie thought she would just leave her, especially after having sex. Maybe they said it during sex, but she would never just use Jennie and leave her behind after.
Jennie felt a weight fall off of her, there was a lightness in her chest. She at times hated how sensitive she was as her lower lip jutted out and her breathing picked up to hold her tears back. Y/n heaved a sigh and got on the bed, with ease she pulled Jennie’s limp body with her as she kicked the duvet down before pulling it over them. The girl hugged around Y/n’s slim waist, burying her face in her shoulder as she couldn’t help but cry.
“Will you leave tomorrow?” She asked through her tears. The younger clicked her tongue and ran her fingers through Jennie’s hair. The both of them drowned in the warmth they shared. 
“Do you want me to?” She had a good feeling that Jennie did not want her to leave. She wouldn’t be crying otherwise. Y/n was right as Jennie shook her head, tightening her grip around her to make sure that she would stay. It made her pull her small body closer to her and she kissed the top of her head.
“If you want…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie lifted her head, her eyes exhausted and filled with tears. Y/n wiped her cheeks with the pad of her palm before she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I could stay forever.” She suggested and Jennie closed the little gap between them. This time the kiss was soft, neither of them wanting it to rush into anything else than the adoration and love they still and always would have for each other.
“Yes, please.” She mumbled and Y/n smiled against her lips, pecking them.
“I love you, Jennie.” To hear those words again healed all those empty and torn parts in her. They were eager to say them again and wanted to say them a million times more to make up for all the four months that they hadn't said them.
“I love you, Y/n…” She cleared her throat and looked down a little guiltily and Y/n hummed confused. Jennie mumbled something under her breath, her eyes avoiding Y/n’s as she lay in her arms.
“You have to stop mumbling.” Y/n seriously said as the guilty look on Jennie’s face was starting to worry her. She sighed at that and lastly spoke up.
“I’m not actually on any birth control,” Jennie admitted as she had lied. She didn’t care when she hadn’t been sure if Y/n would have stayed. If she had to force Y/n to get back together then she would do so by trapping her. It only made sense to try and get pregnant if she was ovulating and wanted nothing more than Y/n to stay and to have a baby with her.
“You’re evil,” Y/n whispered and Jennie gave her a haughty little smile, showing that she wasn’t as guilty as she pretended to be.
“I don’t care, I only want you.” She pecked Y/n’s lips before she laid her head on her shoulder, nuzzling her face in her neck, drowning in the comforting scent of home that Y/n was to her.
“I only want you too, Jen.” She couldn’t find it in herself to be angry with the kitten. Y/n loved her too much and neither would she mind having kids with her. All she did was pull her closer and hug her, holding her in a way that would lull Jennie right to sleep and at last let her wake up well-rested after so many bad nights of sleep and crying.
“Start preparing to be a parent and do not forget the ring before I get pregnant.” Jennie pointed out and lifted her left hand, showing the empty fingers to Y/n who leaned in and pecked her ring finger. She giggled when Y/n gently bit it and she quickly hid it after.
“Don’t worry about any of it, I still want to marry you and have a family.”
Jennie’s wish did come true once again.
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