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nerdycheol · 16 days ago

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Sunsets In December

🎄Pairing: architect major!mingyu x literature major!f reader

🎄Word count: 10k

🎄Genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers, romance, fluff

note: Finally here!! My first time writing this big of a fic. Exams were on my head so this is heaviiiiiily unedited. Hope you guys enjoy.

reblogs and feedback is appreciated

taglist: @eyearebee @woo-yuli @gyuguys @syluslittlecrows @reiofsuns2001 @archivegyu @jkslvsnella @minwonwoozi @minvxq @somber-reads @caibeauchicfashion

The winter landscape appeared like a symphony veiled in frost, with everything shimmering beneath the moonlight. Clouds piled upon each other, painting a picturesque scene. However, your current sentiments were far from appreciating its beauty.

You stuffed your hands deep into the pockets of your padded jacket, feeling the warmth slowly seep into your fingers, easing the tension from the cold. A frosty breath escaped your lips as you quickened your pace toward the entrance of your dorm, your mind already set on finding solace under your covers.

As you pushed the door open, the familiar buzz of your roommate Minjeong’s voice greeted you. She was wrapping up a phone call, her tone unusually animated. “She’ll be there,” she said, hanging up just as her eyes landed on you. A wide grin spread across her face. “My girl has arrived!”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicion bubbling up. Dropping your bag on the bed, you asked cautiously, “Why are you so chirpy? You’re never this chirpy. What’s going on?”

Minjeong’s grin turned downright mischievous as she stepped closer. “You know Mingyu, right?” Your nose scrunched involuntarily at the mention of his name. “That architecture major? Yeah, he’s impossible to avoid. It’s like he’s everywhere—always talking too much and smiling like he’s on a toothpaste commercial.”

Minjeong let out a laugh, waving off your complaints. “He’s not that bad...” she said, dragging out the words, clearly softening you up for something. Your arms crossed over your chest. “Why are we talking about him? What’s he done now?”

Her grin grew wider. “So, Jihoon told me Mingyu’s been pestering him to set you two up. And, well... you have a date!”

“No.” You didn’t hesitate, pulling your blanket over your head and cocooning yourself. “Oh, come on!” Minjeong tugged at the blanket, her voice brimming with excitement. “He’s been waiting for ages to meet you properly!” “That’s his problem, not mine,” you muttered from beneath the covers.

“But I promised Jihoon!” she argued, yanking the blanket halfway off, leaving your legs exposed to the cold. A shiver ran down your spine, and with a groan, you peeked out. “When?” “Tomorrow,” she said brightly. “I have class.” “It’s Saturday,” she countered, looking way too pleased with herself. It hit you then—she had planned this all along.

You sighed, burying your face in your pillow. “Fine, I’ll go. But don’t expect me to like him or enjoy it. This is all on you.”

____

The next morning, the sound of your door slamming open woke you from a restless sleep. Minjeong entered, armed with an array of clothes and a sparkle in her eye. “Rise and shine! We’ve got work to do!”

You groaned, rolling over to face the wall. “I’m not in the mood, Minjeong.” She wasn’t having it. “You’re going. And if you’re going, you’re going to look fabulous.”

“I’ll wear jeans and a hoodie,” you replied flatly, still hoping she’d drop the whole thing. “Absolutely not,” she said with authority, dragging you out of bed. “You’re meeting the Mingyu. At least pretend to make an effort.”

You rolled your eyes but allowed her to shove various outfits into your hands. As you tried on each one, you dismissed them with a bored shrug. “This is pointless. He’s not going to care what I wear, and I don’t care either.”

Minjeong crossed her arms, her lips twitching with amusement. “You’ll care when you see the look on his face.” “Yeah, sure,” you muttered, trying not to imagine Mingyu’s dumb, overly cheerful expression.

An hour later, after much convincing, Minjeong had settled on an outfit for you—stylish but simple enough that you wouldn’t feel out of place. “Now for makeup!” she declared, presenting an arsenal of brushes and palettes. “Minjeong, I don’t even want to go. Do we really need to do this?” you asked, watching her with growing exasperation.

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “If you’re going to suffer through this, you might as well look good doing it.”

As she worked on your face, you couldn’t help but sigh. The brush tickled slightly as it swept across your cheeks, and the faint scent of foundation lingered in the air. “This better be worth it,” you grumbled, earning a soft laugh from her.

“Oh, it will be,” she replied confidently, adding the final touches.

When she was done, you had to admit she had a point. The reflection staring back at you in the mirror looked polished yet still very much like yourself. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” you muttered, grabbing your bag.

Minjeong grinned, pulling you into a hug before you left. “Have fun! Or don’t. But I need details when you’re back!”

As you stepped out, dread settled deep in your stomach. Mingyu wasn’t your type—always too loud, too present, and frankly too much. But you couldn’t say no to Minjeong. Hesitantly, you dragged yourself forward, already counting the minutes until you could come back and hide under your blankets again.

------

The café was cozy, with warm lighting and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. You sat at a small table by the window, fingers wrapped around your cup of tea, trying to stave off the nervous energy that had settled in your chest. This was supposed to be just a simple date, but your mind kept racing with thoughts of how awkward it was all going to be.

Mingyu arrived fashionably late, as usual. He flashed a bright, eager smile as he slid into the seat across from you. "Sorry I'm late! I got caught in traffic," he said, a bit out of breath but still radiating energy.

You simply nodded, offering a polite smile. You didn’t have the heart to explain that it didn’t matter, as you’d been sitting there for only a few minutes. "No problem," you said softly, trying to keep the conversation light.

He didn't seem to pick up on your lack of enthusiasm. "I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long. I kept pestering Jihoon—god knows how irritated he is when I’m around him now?" His words came out in a rush, and you could already feel the pace of the conversation picking up faster than you were ready for. You laughed half-heartedly, not sure how to continue this conversation.

"You major in literature, right? You must be super creative, huh?" he asked, offering his hand for a handshake, his other hand already grabbing the menu. His eyes sparkled with genuine interest, but his voice was almost too enthusiastic, too loud for your liking.

You nodded, trying to smile without overcommitting. "I guess. I mean, I enjoy reading," you said, your tone more reserved than you’d like. You could already feel the disconnect—his high energy clashed with your more laid-back nature.

You paused when the waiter brought his coffee.

Mingyu didn’t seem to notice. “I totally get that! I mean, I like reading too, but I love movies better—especially action-packed ones. Ever seen that one with the building that—” His words were cut off by a loud splat, and you watched in horror as he knocked his coffee cup over, spilling it all over his shirt.

"Ah, shoot!" he exclaimed, jumping back slightly, but only succeeding in making the mess worse. He tried to clean it up with a napkin, but all it did was smear the coffee further, leaving a dark stain across his chest.

You bit back a smile at the sight of his flustered expression but quickly masked it, feeling guilty for finding it amusing. "Are you alright?" you asked, your tone softening slightly.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m good!" He laughed awkwardly, standing up to get more napkins. "Just, uh, classic Mingyu move, right? Always a disaster in the making."

You glanced at him, unsure if you should laugh or not. "It’s fine," you offered, trying to comfort him, but it didn’t seem to make things any less awkward.

The conversation fell into a lull. You both sat there for a moment, the noise of the café around you filling the silence. Mingyu looked a little embarrassed, but his infectious energy didn’t falter for long.

"So," he said, clearing his throat, "how about we go somewhere else after this? I know a cool spot nearby, really chill vibe, perfect for unwinding!"

You glanced at him, not sure how to respond. His enthusiasm was overwhelming, and you didn’t exactly feel the urge to go along with it. "I actually have to head back soon," you said, offering a polite but firm smile.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your quick refusal. "Oh… okay. I understand." His smile faltered a bit, and he reached for his drink again, taking a large gulp.

The rest of the date passed in an awkward haze. He tried to keep the conversation going, but his words felt like they were hitting a wall. You couldn’t muster the energy to match his enthusiasm, and he seemed to pick up on the distance between you two.

When the check arrived, neither of you said much. You paid for your tea, giving a polite smile as you stood up. "Thanks for meeting me," you said, a little unsure how to wrap up the evening.

While walking out of the café, you stumbled slightly, adjusting your heel. Mingyu noticed your discomfort but didn’t say anything.

Standing beside you, his face flushed from the chaos of the date, he offered a shy smile. "Yeah, no problem. Maybe… we could try again sometime?"

You hesitated, looking at him for a moment. "I don’t think so," you said, the words coming out more bluntly than you intended.

He seemed surprised, but he quickly recovered. "Right. Well, it was nice meeting you, at least. Take care."

You nodded and turned to leave, feeling the weight of the awkwardness settle behind you. As you stepped out of the café and into the chilly night air, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. It had definitely been a first date to remember—but not in the way anyone would hope.

As you parted ways, Mingyu watched you walk away. Just as you turned the corner, he suddenly ran into a nearby convenience store.

You were halfway to your dorm when you heard someone calling your name. Turning around, you saw Mingyu jogging toward you, slightly out of breath.

"I—I noticed your heel was bothering you earlier," he said, holding up a small pack of band-aids. "These can help with... the shoe bite."

Surprised, you watched as he kneeled down. "You don’t have to—" you started, but he was already gently slipping the band-aid onto the back of your heel.

“There. Better?” he asked, looking up with a small smile. You nodded, taken aback by his thoughtfulness.

The moment lingered, quiet but comfortable, as the faint sounds of the bustling campus filled the background. Mingyu glanced at his watch and hesitated before speaking again. “Can I walk you back to your dorm? It’s late.”

You blinked, surprised by the offer, but the genuine concern in his voice made you nod. “Sure, that’d be nice.”

As you walked together, the chilly air wrapped around you, but Mingyu’s steady presence felt like a buffer against the cold. The conversation was light, dipping between small observations and moments of silence that didn’t feel awkward but instead comforting.

When you reached the entrance to your dorm, you turned to him, pausing for a moment. “Mingyu, thank you for the band-aid. And… I hope to see you again,” you said softly, the sincerity in your tone surprising even yourself.

Mingyu’s face lit up. "You mean that?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips.

As you stepped inside, he pumped his fist in the air and muttered, "Yes!" under his breath, walking away with a newfound spring in his step.

A week had passed since the awkward coffee date with Mingyu. You hadn't expected to see him again, and honestly, you weren’t sure if you wanted to. Yet, as you walked to the library that Saturday afternoon, there he was, standing outside the entrance, his tall frame unmistakable.

Mingyu spotted you almost instantly. His eyes lit up, and he waved enthusiastically. "Hey! What are the odds?" he called out, jogging up to you.

You paused mid-step, caught off guard. "Oh... hi," you said, your voice uncertain.

"Studying?" he asked, gesturing toward the building.

"Yeah," you replied, clutching your bag a little tighter. "It’s quieter here than at the dorm."

He grinned. "I get that. Mind if I join you? I have some work to finish too."

You hesitated. The memory of your last meeting flashed in your mind, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for another round of Mingyu’s boundless energy. Still, his hopeful expression made it hard to refuse.

"Sure," you said finally, leading the way inside.

The two of you found a quiet corner near the windows. Mingyu pulled out a sketchbook, surprising you. He caught your curious glance and held it up towards you with a smile. "We’ve got a big project due soon, so I thought I’d get some work done." he explained.

You nodded, slightly intrigued. As you opened your notebook, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. He was focused, his pencil gliding across the page with surprising precision. It was a stark contrast to the clumsy, overly energetic version of him you’d seen before.

"Are you working on a story?" Mingyu’s voice broke the silence.

You blinked, realizing he was looking at your open notebook. "No, just notes for class," you said, quickly flipping to another page.

"Literature must be so interesting," he said sincerely. "Do you write, too?"

"Sometimes," you admitted, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

"That’s cool. I’d love to read something you’ve written."

You laughed lightly. "I don’t think it’s your kind of thing."

"Try me," he said, his tone playful but curious.

Before you could reply, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it, frowning slightly.

"Everything okay?" you asked.

"Yeah, just Jihoon being Jihoon," he said, brushing it off. "He says I’m procrastinating too much."

"Is he wrong?" you teased before you could stop yourself.

Mingyu laughed, the sound drawing a few annoyed glances from nearby tables. "Probably not. But hey, I’m here now, right?"

The conversation flowed more easily after that. You found yourself relaxing, even laughing at some of his stories about his friends and their antics. He had a way of making you forget your initial awkwardness, his warmth and enthusiasm proving to be infectious in small doses.

As the afternoon turned to evening, you packed up your things, feeling lighter than you had in days.

"Thanks for letting me crash your study session," Mingyu said as you both walked out of the library. "You weren’t too bad," you replied, surprising yourself with the playful tone.

He grinned. "High praise coming from you."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile.

"Let me walk you back," he offered, falling into step beside you.

This time, you didn’t hesitate.

-------

A week had passed since your second meeting with Mingyu at the library. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him lingered in your thoughts—his unfiltered enthusiasm, the way his face lit up when he talked about his projects, and, oddly enough, how easily he seemed to brighten the atmosphere wherever he went.

It was late afternoon when Minjeong barged into your dorm, her usual whirlwind of energy filling the room. She dropped onto your bed with a dramatic sigh, tossing her bag aside.

"You won’t believe this," she started, grinning mischievously.

"Believe what?" you asked, glancing up from your laptop.

"Jihoon’s taking me to some event on campus tonight. And guess who’s coming?"

You frowned, already suspecting the answer. "Mingyu?"

"Bingo! He’s been pestering Jihoon to invite you too," she said, sitting up with a sly smile. "You should come. It'll be fun!"

You hesitated, unsure if you wanted to see Mingyu again so soon. "I don’t know... I’m not great with crowds."

Minjeong rolled her eyes. "It’s not a crowd. It’s a small gathering, and I’ll be there. Besides, it won’t kill you to socialize a little. Think of it as a chance to loosen up."

Reluctantly, you agreed, though you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the faint curiosity about Mingyu or simply the inability to say no to Minjeong’s persistent cheerfulness.

_____

The "event" turned out to be more casual than you’d expected—a small group of students gathered in a common room, chatting, laughing, and sharing snacks. Mingyu spotted you almost immediately, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You came!" he exclaimed, weaving through the group to reach you. "I didn’t think you’d show up."

"Minjeong convinced me," you said, trying to downplay the awkwardness of the moment.

"Well, I’m glad she did." He grinned, holding out a cup of juice. "Here. No coffee disasters this time, I promise."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, taking the cup. "Thanks."

As the evening went on, you found yourself drawn into conversations more easily than you expected. Mingyu had a way of pulling you into his orbit, his excitement infectious as he introduced you to his friends and shared funny stories.

At some point, you noticed him fiddling with a small notebook, jotting down notes or sketches whenever he had a moment to himself. Curiosity got the better of you.

"Always working, huh?" you teased lightly, nodding toward the notebook.

He looked up, slightly flustered. "Oh, this? Just some ideas I didn’t want to forget."

"Can I see?" you asked, surprising even yourself.

He hesitated for a moment before handing it over. The pages were filled with intricate sketches of buildings, detailed floor plans, and even small doodles in the margins.

"You’re really talented," you said genuinely, flipping through the pages.

Mingyu scratched the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Thanks. It’s just... something I really love doing."

As you handed the notebook back, you realized that his passion for architecture wasn’t just about work—it was a part of who he was. And for the first time, you found yourself wanting to know more about him.

----

Later that night, as you walked back to your dorm with Minjeong, she nudged you playfully. "You seemed to have a good time tonight."

"It was... better than I expected," you admitted.

She smirked knowingly. "Mingyu has that effect on people. You like him, don’t you?"

You rolled your eyes. "I barely know him."

"Maybe, but it’s a start," she said with a wink before disappearing into her room.

As you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t shake the thought of Mingyu’s sketches and the way his smile had seemed so genuine. Maybe Minjeong was right—maybe it was a start.

The days following the gathering had been surprisingly uneventful. Mingyu hadn’t reached out, and you found yourself wondering why that bothered you. Minjeong, of course, had her theories.

"You’re just not used to someone like him," she said over breakfast one morning, munching on a piece of toast.

"Someone like him?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, overly friendly, a little clumsy, but so sweet that you can’t help but like him," she said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. It was hard to deny Mingyu’s charm, even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

---

That afternoon, you were sitting on a bench in the campus park, a book in your lap, when a shadow fell across your page. Looking up, you found Mingyu standing there, holding two cups of coffee.

"Hey," he said, smiling sheepishly. "I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee, but I figured it was worth a shot."

You blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I was passing by and saw you," he admitted, handing you a cup. "Figured I’d say hi. Mind if I sit?"

You gestured to the empty spot beside you. "Go ahead."

As he sat down, he glanced at your book. "What are you reading?"

You held it up, showing him the title. He nodded thoughtfully, though you doubted he recognized it.

"Looks... deep," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You chuckled. "It’s not. Just something for class."

He sipped his coffee, his gaze wandering over the park. "I like this spot. It’s peaceful." You nodded, surprised by the calmness in his voice. For once, he wasn’t bubbling over with energy, and it made the conversation feel easier.

"Do you come here often?" he asked after a moment.

"Sometimes," you admitted. "It’s a good place to clear my head."

He smiled. "I get that. There’s a rooftop near my dorm where I like to sketch. It’s quiet, and the view’s amazing."

You glanced at him, intrigued. "You sketch outside?"

"Yeah. The light’s better, and it helps me focus. Maybe I could show you sometime?" he offered, his tone casual but hopeful.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the invitation. "Maybe."

He grinned. "I’ll take that as a yes."

---

The conversation shifted to lighter topics—favorite movies, embarrassing childhood memories, and the quirks of your professors. To your surprise, Mingyu was a good listener, genuinely interested in what you had to say.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, you realized how much time had passed.

"I should probably get going," you said, standing up and brushing off your jeans.

Mingyu stood too, looking a little reluctant. "Can I walk you back?"

"Sure."

The walk was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. When you reached your dorm, he stopped at the bottom of the steps, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Thanks for letting me crash your reading time," he said with a lopsided smile.

"It wasn’t so bad," you said, surprising both him and yourself.

His smile widened. "I’ll see you around?"

"Yeah," you said softly before heading inside.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Minjeong was right—maybe you were starting to like him, just a little.

-----

It was a couple of days before you saw Mingyu again. Between classes and assignments, life had been hectic, but a text from him caught you off guard one evening.

Mingyu: "Busy tomorrow afternoon? Got something to show you."

You stared at the message, debating your response before you typed back:

You: "Not busy. What is it?"

Mingyu: "You’ll see. Meet me outside the library at 3?"

----

The next day, you found Mingyu leaning against a lamppost near the library, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked up and grinned when he spotted you.

"Right on time," he said, pushing off the pole.

"I’m curious about what’s so important," you replied, crossing your arms.

"Patience," he said, leading you toward the dorm buildings.

You followed him, confusion growing as he guided you to a side entrance. After climbing a couple of flights of stairs, he pushed open a door, revealing the rooftop he’d mentioned.

The ascent up the stairs was challenging, but it was all worth it. The view was breathtaking. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the campus. A light breeze rustled your hair as you stepped closer to the edge, taking it all in.

"This is where you sketch?" you asked, glancing at him.

"Yup," he said, pulling out his sketchbook and a pencil. "Told you it’s a great spot."

You watched as he settled down, flipping to a blank page. His expression shifted, becoming more focused, and you were struck by how different he seemed in this moment—calmer, almost serene.

"Want to see?" he asked, noticing your gaze.

"See what?"

"What I’m working on," he said, holding up the sketchbook. You sat beside him. The page showed the beginnings of a building, its lines sharp and precise. Even unfinished, it was impressive. "This is amazing," you said sincerely.

He smiled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Thanks. It’s for a project we’re working on in class. Still a long way to go, though."

"You’re really talented," you said, meaning it.

"Thanks," he said, glancing at you. "You know, I was nervous about showing you this."

"Why?"

He shrugged, looking back at the sketch. "I don’t know. I guess I wanted you to like it." Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

"I do like it," you said softly.

The two of you fell into a companionable silence after that, the only sounds coming from the scratch of his pencil and the occasional rustle of the wind.

---

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Mingyu set down his pencil and leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. "Thanks for coming," he said, glancing at you. "It’s nice having company up here."

You nodded, surprised at how much you’d enjoyed the afternoon.

"I should probably head back," you said reluctantly, standing up.

"I’ll walk you," he said immediately, packing up his things.

The walk back to your dorm was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that felt natural. When you reached your door, Mingyu hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something.

"Hey," he said finally. "Would you… maybe want to grab dinner sometime? Like, just the two of us?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question.

"I mean, no pressure," he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "I just thought it might be fun."

You considered him for a moment before nodding. "Sure. Why not?"

His face lit up, and he smiled so brightly that you couldn’t help but smile back.

"Great," he said, stepping back. "I’ll text you!"

As he walked away, you leaned against the door, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.

You didn’t think much of it when Mingyu texted you early in the morning the next day: “Are you free today?” You replied with a quick, “Depends. Why?”

Moments later, your phone buzzed again: “Meet me at the art museum. 11 a.m. Trust me, it’ll be worth it 😉.”

You stared at the message, debating if you wanted to spend your Saturday surrounded by centuries-old paintings and sculptures. But the thought of Mingyu’s excitement—and his likely terrible attempts at interpreting art—was oddly compelling.

When you arrived at the museum, he was waiting outside, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His face lit up as soon as he saw you.

“You came!” he exclaimed, jogging over to you.

“You told me to,” you said, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. “So, what’s the plan, art connoisseur?”

He grinned, stepping aside to reveal two tickets in his hand. “There’s a special exhibit on architectural influences in classical art. Thought it might inspire both of us—me for my designs and you for your writing.”

You blinked, pleasantly surprised. “That’s… surprisingly thoughtful of you.”

“Surprisingly?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, I’m always thoughtful.”

“Sure, Mingyu,” you said, rolling your eyes but following him inside.

The museum was quiet, the kind of serene atmosphere that encouraged hushed conversations and slow, deliberate movements. You walked side by side through the exhibit, pausing to admire the intricate details in the paintings and sculptures.

Mingyu’s commentary was as expected—part insightful, part ridiculous. “That statue over there?” he whispered, leaning closer. “Definitely inspired by me. Look at those proportions.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “The statue is of a Greek god, Mingyu. Not everything is about you.”

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “I think there’s a resemblance.”

Despite his antics, there were moments when his genuine passion for art shone through. He spoke with animated gestures about the structural elements in the paintings, pointing out the use of symmetry and balance in ways that made you see them differently.

“You’re really good at this,” you said as he finished explaining the perspective in a Renaissance piece.

He tilted his head, grinning. “Good at what? Being brilliant?”

“Good at making things interesting,” you clarified, smiling.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you with that same soft expression he’d been wearing more often lately. It made your stomach flip, though you didn’t let it show.

The exhibit ended with a large installation—a series of sculptures arranged to create the illusion of movement when viewed from different angles. Mingyu stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the display.

“It’s amazing how art can feel alive, isn’t it?” he said quietly.

You nodded, watching the way the light played across the sculptures. “It’s like it tells a story without words.”

He turned to you, his voice softer. “Kind of like us, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was joking. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… we’re figuring out our own story,” he said, his usual bravado replaced by something more sincere. “And I think it’s turning out pretty great.”

For once, you didn’t hesitate. You smiled, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. I think so too.”

The moment lingered, and you were acutely aware of how close he was standing, the warmth of his presence cutting through the chill of the museum.

“So,” he said after a pause, his playful grin returning. “Ready for the next part of the day?”

“There’s more?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Always,” he said, winking. “Come on. You’ll love it.”

_______

Mingyu didn’t give you much information about the “next part” of the day. He just kept walking with an air of mystery, glancing over his shoulder every now and then to make sure you were still following.

“Mingyu, where are we going?” you asked for the third time, narrowing your eyes at his broad back.

“You’ll see,” he said with a mischievous grin, turning a corner.

When he finally stopped, you found yourself in front of a quaint little café tucked away in a quiet alley. The smell of freshly baked pastries wafted out as Mingyu held the door open for you.

“You brought me to a café?” you asked, stepping inside.

“Not just any café,” he said, guiding you toward a table near the back. “This place is special.”

You looked around. It seemed ordinary enough—warm lighting, cozy décor, soft chatter in the background. “What’s so special about it?”

Mingyu sat down across from you, pulling a small menu from the holder on the table. “They have a rooftop garden. Great view, amazing vibe. Plus…” He hesitated, suddenly looking sheepish.

“Plus what?” you prompted, amused by his sudden change in demeanor.

He cleared his throat. “Plus, I wanted to spend more time with you. Somewhere quieter.” It was rare for Mingyu to say things like that without a teasing edge, and you weren’t sure how to respond.

Before you could say anything, the waiter arrived, and Mingyu quickly ordered for both of you—a couple of their signature drinks and a plate of pastries.

“Wait, how do you know what I want?” you asked after the waiter left.

He leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

After a few minutes, he led you upstairs to the rooftop. The view was indeed stunning—the city stretched out before you, lights twinkling against the evening sky. Small fairy lights were strung around the garden, casting a warm glow over the space.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” you said as you sat down on one of the benches, “this is pretty nice.”

“Only pretty nice?” Mingyu teased, sitting beside you.

“Don’t push it,” you warned, though your smile gave you away.

For a while, the two of you just sat there, sipping your drinks and enjoying the quiet. It was a stark contrast to the usual chaos of your interactions, but it felt… natural.

“So,” Mingyu said after a while, breaking the silence. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance to?”

You tilted your head, caught off guard by the question. “That’s random.”

“Humor me,” he said, his tone light but his expression serious.

You thought for a moment. “Well… I’ve always wanted to go on a spontaneous trip. Just pack a bag and leave, no plans, no schedule.”

Mingyu’s eyes lit up. “That sounds awesome. We should do that sometime.”

You laughed. “We?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “Why not? You pick the place, I’ll take care of everything else.”

“You’re serious?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dead serious,” he said, leaning closer. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little adventure.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, winking.

As the night wore on, you found yourself relaxing more and more in his presence. There was something about the way he made everything feel easy, like you didn’t have to put up walls or second-guess yourself.

When it was time to leave, Mingyu insisted on walking you back to your dorm.

“Are you sure?” you asked as you stepped onto the sidewalk. “It’s out of your way.”

“It’s fine,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I like walking with you.”

You didn’t argue, falling into step beside him. The streets were quiet, and the cool night air carried a hint of winter.

“Thanks for today,” you said after a while. “I didn’t think I’d enjoy myself this much.”

“Is that your way of admitting I’m fun to be around?” he teased.

“Don’t push your luck,” you said, nudging him lightly.

When you reached your dorm, he hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something.

“What?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, then added with a grin, “Goodnight, ___.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu,” you said softly, watching as he turned and walked away.

As you stepped inside, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Whatever this thing between you and Mingyu was, it was starting to feel a lot less complicated—and a lot more like something worth holding on to.

The sharp winter air nipped at your cheeks as you stepped out of the lecture hall, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. Snow had started to dust the campus grounds, crunching softly beneath your boots as you descended the steps.

At first, you almost didn’t notice Mingyu, bundled in a thick coat and leaning casually against a lamppost just outside the building. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, but his grin was as warm as ever when your eyes met. He straightened up, holding out a steaming cup of coffee toward you.

“Surprise,” he said, his breath visible in the crisp air.

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d save you from the freezing walk to the café,” he replied smoothly. “Your professor doesn’t seem like the type to end classes early, so I figured you’d need this.”

You hesitated, keeping your hands buried deep in your coat pockets. “You waited out here in this cold?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m practically a human heater,” he said, flashing a toothy smile and giving the coffee cup a little shake. “Go on, take it. It’s your favorite.”

The warmth seeped into your fingers as you accepted the cup, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible in a charming way, right?” he teased, falling into step beside you as you began walking.

You smiled at him, and before you could respond, your phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, you saw a message from Minjeong. “Minjeong just texted. She wants to meet at the café. Want to come?”

“Lead the way m’lady.”

The café was bustling when you arrived. Jihoon and Minjeong were already seated in a cozy corner. Minjeong waved enthusiastically as you approached, while Jihoon offered a small nod, his usual reserved self.

“Took you long enough,” Minjeong teased as you slid into the seat beside her. “Were you two busy planning your next cute outing?”

You rolled your eyes, though a slight blush crept onto your cheeks. Mingyu, ever unfazed, leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Minjeong grinned, leaning into Jihoon’s side. “Nothing. Just curious. Right, Jihoon?” Jihoon glanced at her, his expression softening. “Sure.” He reached for her hand under the table, a subtle but affectionate gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

The conversation flowed easily, Mingyu’s boisterous energy balancing Jihoon’s quiet demeanor. Minjeong’s playful remarks kept everyone laughing, and you found yourself relaxing even more, enjoying the warmth of the group.

At one point, Minjeong leaned closer to you. “You know, Jihoon’s been working on a new song. He won’t let me hear it yet, though. Says it’s a surprise.”

You glanced at Jihoon, who looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “Is that true?” you asked, curious.

Jihoon shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “It’s not ready.”

Minjeong beamed. “He’s so modest. But I know it’s going to be amazing.” She squeezed his hand, and he finally met her eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Mingyu, not one to miss an opportunity to tease, leaned forward. “Wow, Jihoon, you’re setting the bar high for the rest of us. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“You could start by not spilling coffee on yourself,” Jihoon retorted, earning a burst of laughter from the table.

As the afternoon wore on, the four of you lingered, the café’s warmth and camaraderie making it hard to leave. When it was finally time to go, Minjeong linked arms with you, pulling you aside as the boys walked ahead.

“You and Mingyu seem close,” she said, her tone light but knowing.

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Good. He’s a good one. Just don’t let him talk you into any crazy ideas.”

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the winter air. As you rejoined the group, Mingyu turned to you, his smile as bright as ever.

As you rejoined the group, Mingyu turned to you, his smile as bright as ever. “Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his breath visible in the cold air.

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at Minjeong, who gave you a subtle wink before slipping her arm back through Jihoon’s. The two of them walked ahead, their laughter blending with the gentle hum of the evening.

Mingyu fell into step beside you, his hands buried in his coat pockets. “So,” he began, his voice softer now that it was just the two of you, “what crazy ideas does Minjeong think I’ll talk you into?”

You laughed, the sound light against the winter air. “I don’t know, but knowing you, it could be anything.”

“Anything, huh?” He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it manageable. No mountain climbing in the snow… yet.”

“Yet?” you repeated, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable in a charming way, though,” he countered, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You didn’t respond immediately, your gaze drawn to the snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky. Mingyu slowed his pace to match yours, the comfortable silence between you more telling than any words could be.

Ahead of you, Minjeong and Jihoon paused near a small park bench, the snow-covered scene illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp. Jihoon pulled Minjeong closer, brushing a stray snowflake from her hair with a tenderness that made you smile.

“Those two,” Mingyu murmured, his voice low. “It’s nice to see them so happy.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, watching as Minjeong tilted her head up to Jihoon, her laughter bright and clear even from a distance.

Mingyu turned to you, his gaze lingering for a moment before he spoke. “You know, seeing them makes me wonder…”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Wonder what?”

He hesitated, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before his usual confidence returned. “Just… how some people make it look so easy. Like they already know how to fit into each other’s lives.”

His words hung in the air, delicate and unspoken yet heavy with meaning. You didn’t know what to say, so you opted for honesty. “I don’t think it’s about knowing. I think it’s about trying, about showing up for each other.”

Mingyu studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “You’re pretty good at that, you know. Showing up.”

A flush crept up your cheeks, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or his words. Before you could respond, Minjeong called out, waving you both over.

“Are you two coming, or are we leaving you behind?” she teased, her voice carrying easily through the crisp air.

Mingyu chuckled, stepping closer to you. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You nodded, letting him walk slightly ahead before glancing back at the lamppost where he’d waited for you earlier. The memory of his grin, his thoughtfulness, and his presence stayed with you as you followed him and the others into the evening.

_________

The next few days flew by in a flurry of snow and assignments, but Mingyu’s presence became an increasingly regular—and welcome—part of your routine. Whether it was his casual texts asking if you’d eaten or his sudden appearances outside your lecture hall with coffee in hand, he had a way of brightening even the coldest winter days.

One evening, after a particularly grueling study session in the library, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen to see Mingyu’s name.

Mingyu: Look outside.

Your brows furrowed, but you pushed yourself up from the desk and walked over to the window. There he was, standing in the snowy courtyard below, waving like a dork.

You: What are you doing here? It’s freezing!

Mingyu: Rescuing you from your books. Let’s go for a walk.

It was hard to say no to him, especially when he was grinning like that. Grabbing your coat and scarf, you met him outside. The snow was falling heavier now, the flakes catching in his dark hair as he offered you a mischievous smile.

“Don’t you have assignments to finish?” you teased as you fell into step beside him.

“Probably,” he admitted. “But I’d rather hang out with you.”

The campus was quiet at this hour, most students tucked away inside to escape the cold. Mingyu led you toward the park near the edge of campus, where the snow blanketed the trees and paths in a serene, untouched layer of white.

“This is my favorite spot in winter,” he said, gesturing toward a bench beneath a towering oak tree. The branches were heavy with snow, and tiny icicles glimmered in the faint light of a nearby lamppost.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, sitting down beside him. The cold seeped through your coat, but Mingyu’s presence seemed to offset the chill.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, watching as the snow fell around you. Then, out of nowhere, you spoke.

“You know,” you began, exhaling a cloud of misty breath, “I’ve always wanted to go on a trip in winter. Somewhere quiet, with snow-covered mountains and cozy little cabins. Just… get away from everything for a while.”

Mingyu turned to you, his eyes bright with interest. “Why haven’t you?”

You shrugged, playing with the edge of your scarf. “Too busy, I guess. There’s always something—classes, work, responsibilities. It feels selfish to just drop everything and leave.”

“Selfish?” Mingyu repeated, frowning. “Wanting to take care of yourself isn’t selfish. If anything, it’s smart. Everyone needs a break sometimes.”

You looked at him, surprised by the conviction in his tone. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” he said firmly. Then, a grin spread across his face. “Besides, a trip like that sounds amazing. If you ever decide to go, let me know. I’ll carry your bags.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “You just want an excuse to escape your own responsibilities, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a wink. “But mostly, I just think it’d be fun to go with you.”

The walk back to your dorm felt different, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. Mingyu’s hand brushed against yours more than once, and each time, it sent a jolt through you. When you reached your door, he lingered, shuffling his feet like he was debating something.

“Goodnight, ___,” he said, his voice unusually hesitant.

“Goodnight, Mingyu,” you replied, though part of you wanted him to stay.

As you turned to go inside, his voice stopped you.

“Wait, ___.”

You spun around, your heart thudding in your chest. He looked nervous, his hands stuffed deep in his coat pockets.

“I just… I really like spending time with you,” he said, his words rushing out in a single breath.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden confession. But as the warmth of his words sank in, a smile spread across your face.

“I like spending time with you too,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing.

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he let out a soft laugh. “Good. That’s… good.” With one last smile, he turned and walked away leaving you standing there in the cold with a heart that felt anything but that.

The room was quiet, the soft hum of the heater lulling you into a deep sleep. That was until Minjeong, with her boundless energy, shattered the peace.

“___, get up! We’re going on a trip!”

You groaned, burying your face deeper into your pillow. “Minjeong, it’s four in the morning. What are you talking about?” She tugged at your blanket, her voice insistent. “No time for small talk. Get up! I’ve already packed your bags.”

That jolted you awake. You sat up, blinking at her in disbelief. “You what?”

“Come on,” she urged, pulling you to your feet. “We’re burning moonlight!”

Despite your protests and half-hearted grumbling, Minjeong dragged you out of bed and out of your dorm. The crisp winter air hit you as you stepped outside, and you spotted a car parked nearby. Jihoon and Mingyu were already waiting, the latter leaning casually against the car door with a wide grin.

Jihoon, on the other hand, looked like he’d been dragged out of bed against his will—because he had. His messy hair and scowl said it all. “I still don’t understand why this couldn’t wait until daylight,” he muttered.

“Because spontaneity is fun!” Minjeong chirped, shoving your bag into the trunk before hopping into the backseat.

You hesitated, glancing at Mingyu. He tilted his head toward the passenger seat, his grin softening. “Come on, ___, it’ll be fun. Trust me.”

Still half-asleep and bewildered, you climbed into the car. Mingyu started the engine, and with Minjeong and Jihoon bickering quietly in the back, the four of you set off into the night.

The drive to the cabin was quiet at first, everyone too groggy to speak much. Jihoon had dozed off, his head leaning against the window, while Minjeong hummed softly to a song playing on the radio. Mingyu glanced over at you every now and then, his smile growing when he caught you staring out the window, mesmerized by the view.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he said softly.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. Where exactly are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically, his eyes twinkling.

_____

By the time you reached the cabin nestled in the heart of a snow-covered forest, the sun had just started to rise, painting the sky in hues of pale pink and gold. The sight was breathtaking. The cabin itself was picturesque, with a rustic charm that made it feel like it had been plucked straight out of a winter postcard.

“Wow,” you breathed as you stepped out of the car, the crisp air filling your lungs. Snow crunched beneath your boots as you tilted your head back to take it all in.

Minjeong, carrying a bag that looked far too big for her, nudged you. “Told you it’d be worth it.” Even Jihoon, who had been complaining for the better part of the ride, seemed impressed as he surveyed the scene, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets.

“This is… really nice,” he admitted reluctantly, earning a triumphant grin from Minjeong.

Mingyu emerged from the driver’s side, stretching his arms over his head and exhaling a cloud of visible breath. “Wait till you see the inside,” he said, jingling the keys. “I promise, it’s even better.”

The interior of the cabin was just as cozy as the exterior. A roaring fireplace was already lit, filling the space with a warm glow. Plush couches were arranged around the hearth, and a long wooden dining table sat in the center of the room, laden with snacks Minjeong had apparently packed.

“Dibs on the couch,” Jihoon called, flopping down dramatically and closing his eyes as if he were already done for the day.

Minjeong rolled her eyes. “You can rest later. We’ve got plans.”

“We have plans?” you asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Of course we do,” she replied, hands on her hips. “But first, breakfast. I’m starving.”

Mingyu walked past with an armful of blankets, pausing to glance at you. “Make yourself comfortable. This is going to be a weekend to remember.”

And as you stood there, the warmth of the cabin enveloping you and your friends’ laughter echoing around the room, you couldn’t help but feel like he was absolutely right.

After breakfast—a hearty spread of eggs, toast, and Minjeong's insistence on making everyone try her overly sweet hot chocolate—the group settled into the cozy living room. Mingyu had taken charge of stacking more firewood by the hearth, his movements natural and unhurried. Jihoon, predictably, had reclaimed the couch, wrapped in one of the blankets Mingyu had brought out, while Minjeong scrolled through her phone. You were sitting cross-legged on one of the armchairs, the warmth of the fireplace lulling you into a rare moment of complete relaxation.

“Okay, listen up!” Minjeong’s voice cut through the calm. She jumped to her feet, brandishing her phone like a baton. “I’ve come up with the perfect itinerary for our weekend!”

Jihoon groaned audibly. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve anything before noon.”

“Relax, sleepyhead. Today’s all about taking it easy,” Minjeong reassured him, earning a relieved sigh. Then she turned to you with a sly grin. “But tomorrow, we’re going sledding.”

“Sledding?” Mingyu echoed, his brows raising in surprise as he tossed another log onto the fire.

“Yeah,” Minjeong confirmed, her excitement infectious. “There’s a perfect hill just a short drive from here. I already looked it up.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Minjeong said with a dramatic flip of her hair. “I don’t do things halfway. Besides,” she added, her gaze softening, “I wanted this to be special. For all of us.”

Jihoon cracked an eye open, his expression unreadable for a moment before he muttered, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Minjeong beamed and threw a pillow at him, which he caught with ease, his small smile betraying his amusement.

Mingyu straightened up, brushing his hands together as if to clear the dust. “Well, if sledding’s on the agenda, we’ll need to build up some energy tonight. How about a hike before dinner? There’s a trail right behind the cabin.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, the idea of exploring the snowy woods bringing a flutter of excitement.

The group spent the rest of the day settling in, laughing over card games and teasing Jihoon when he inevitably lost. As the sun began to dip behind the trees, Mingyu and Minjeong led the way out to the trail.

The hike was breathtaking. Snow blanketed the ground, and the trees stood tall and bare, their branches etched against the deepening blue of the sky. Mingyu walked beside you, his presence steady and reassuring as the two of you fell into an easy rhythm.

“Not bad for a spontaneous trip, huh?” he asked, his breath visible in the chilly air.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, your voice quiet as you took in the beauty of the moment.

Minjeong and Jihoon were ahead, their banter floating back to you. Minjeong’s laughter echoed through the trees, and you caught glimpses of Jihoon’s rare, soft smiles when he thought no one was looking.

“You know,” Mingyu said suddenly, his tone thoughtful, “I’m glad we did this.”

You turned to him, your footsteps slowing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip. “It feels… different. Being out here. Like we’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

His words lingered in the air between you, heavy with a meaning you couldn’t quite place but didn’t feel the need to question. Instead, you let yourself smile, your cheeks warming despite the cold.

As the trail looped back toward the cabin, the glow of its lights visible through the trees, you felt a quiet kind of joy settle over you. This trip wasn’t just a break from reality—it was a reminder of how much these people, this time, meant to you.

_________

The next morning, you were woken not by Minjeong’s voice or the sound of Jihoon grumbling but by the distinct aroma of coffee wafting through the cabin. The sunlight streaming through the curtains painted the room in soft golden hues, and for a moment, you simply lay there, savoring the quiet.

A gentle knock on your door broke the silence.

“___?” Mingyu’s voice came through, low and careful. “You awake?”

Your heart fluttered at the sound. “Yeah, come in.”

The door creaked open, and Mingyu stepped inside, holding two mugs of steaming coffee. His hair was slightly tousled, and he wore a hoodie that looked far too warm and inviting for someone as effortlessly charming as him.

“Thought you might want this,” he said, handing you a mug.

You took it, the warmth seeping into your fingers. “Thanks. What’s the plan for today? Sledding, right?”

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe. “Minjeong’s already got Jihoon outside helping with the sleds. Not sure how she convinced him, but he’s doing it.”

You laughed softly, picturing Jihoon’s reluctant expression. “She has her ways.”

“True,” Mingyu said, his smile widening. “But I wanted to check in with you first. You okay with all this? The trip, the chaos… the early mornings?”

You looked at him, surprised by the question. “Yeah, I’m more than okay. I’m glad we’re here. Feels like a break we all needed.”

He seemed satisfied with your answer, his eyes softening. “Good. Let’s head out, then. The snow’s perfect for sledding.”

The hill was alive with laughter and the occasional shriek as the sleds raced down the slope. Minjeong was relentless, challenging everyone to see who could slide the farthest. Jihoon, despite his earlier reluctance, proved to be surprisingly competitive, much to Minjeong’s delight.

“Come on, ___!” Minjeong called out, waving you over. “You’re up next!”

You grabbed the sled, Mingyu appearing at your side almost immediately. “Need a push?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“I can manage,” you replied, though your grin betrayed your excitement.

Mingyu crouched beside you, his hands steadying the sled. “Alright, but don’t blame me if you lose to Jihoon.”

“I won’t lose,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

The moment he let go, you felt the rush of the wind and the thrill of the descent. The world blurred around you, and by the time you reached the bottom of the hill, you were breathless and laughing, your cheeks aching from the cold and your smile.

Mingyu was already sliding down after you, his sled slightly off course but his expression triumphant. When he finally stopped beside you, he rolled off the sled dramatically, lying in the snow and grinning up at the sky.

“Okay, that was worth the early wake-up call,” he admitted, his voice light and happy.

You flopped down beside him, the snow cold but not unpleasant. “Told you so.” For a moment, the two of you lay there, the world quiet except for the distant laughter of your friends.

“This feels right,” he said softly, turning his head to look at you.

You met his gaze, your breath catching. “What does?”

“Being here. With you….all,” he replied, his voice faltering.

You didn’t know how to respond, but Mingyu didn’t seem to mind. He smiled, his expression unguarded and genuine, before sitting up and offering you a hand. “Come on. We’ve got a race to win.”

You took his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering long after he pulled you to your feet.

Later that evening, as the group gathered around the fireplace, Minjeong was regaling everyone with a dramatic retelling of her sledding victories. Jihoon sat beside her, his arm resting casually around her shoulders, his soft chuckles a quiet counterpoint to her boisterous storytelling.

Mingyu leaned closer to you, his voice low so only you could hear. “I think Jihoon’s smiling more than usual. Must be Minjeong’s influence.”

You glanced at the couple, your heart warming at the sight. “They’re good together.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu agreed, his tone thoughtful. “Kind of like us, don’t you think?”

You turned to him, your eyes widening slightly. But before you could respond, he grinned, his expression teasing. “Relax. I meant in a totally platonic, best-team-on-the-hill kind of way.”

“Sure you did,” you replied, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips.

Three days passed in a blink of an eye. The final night of the trip had arrived, and the cabin hummed with quiet excitement. Outside, a gentle snowfall added a magical touch to the wintry landscape. The four of you were gathered on the front porch, sparklers and firecrackers in hand, ready to ring in the new year. The snowfall outside had eased, leaving a soft white blanket over the ground, reflecting the flickers of light from the sparklers Minjeong twirled in her hands. She jumped around, her giggles cutting through the quiet hum of the winter night. Jihoon stood close to her, arms crossed, looking as if he were above all the chaos but unable to suppress the slight tug at the corner of his lips.

“Jihoon! Help me light this one!” Minjeong called, waving a firecracker in his direction.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” Jihoon muttered, but he moved to help her anyway, his hands carefully guiding hers.

You stood near the porch steps, holding a sparkler of your own, the fizzing light barely matching the warmth that spread through you. Mingyu was nearby, but you felt his presence before you saw him. He was quiet, uncharacteristically so, and when you turned to glance at him, you found him watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“What?” you asked, feeling self-conscious under his steady gaze.

“Nothing,” he said with a soft smile, stepping closer. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He hesitated, looking up at the bursts of fireworks lighting the sky before meeting your eyes again. “Stuff. Us.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and your heart picked up a nervous rhythm. You lowered the sparkler in your hand, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “What about us?”

Mingyu ran a hand through his hair, his usual confidence giving way to an almost boyish nervousness. “I’ve been trying to find the right time to say this, but… I guess there’s no such thing as perfect timing, huh?” He let out a small, awkward laugh, shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets.

Your curiosity spiked, but before you could speak, he stepped closer, his tall frame towering over you in a way that somehow felt protective rather than overwhelming.

“I like you, ___,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “Not in a casual, ‘you’re-my-friend’ kind of way. I mean, I like you. A lot. More than I probably should.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could hear was the crackling of the sparklers Minjeong had forgotten on the snow.

“And I know we’ve been spending more time together,” he continued, his words tumbling out now, “and maybe I’ve been too obvious about it, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. I just needed to tell you. Even if you don’t feel the same, I—”

“Mingyu.”

He froze, his face panicked. “You don’t have to answer me now, okay? I don’t want to make this weird, and if you don’t like me back, we can just forget I said anything, and—”

“I like you too.”

The words came out so naturally that it surprised you both. Mingyu’s eyes widened, his lips parting as if he needed a moment to process what you’d just said.

“You… you do?”

You nodded, a shy smile creeping onto your face. “Yeah, I do. I just didn’t think—”

Whatever you were going to say was cut off as Mingyu let out a breathless laugh, his whole face lighting up in a way that made your stomach flip. He reached up, hesitated for a brief second, and then brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmured, his voice so soft you barely caught it.

The two of you stood there, the world around you fading into the background. Mingyu’s hand lingered near your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin as he tilted his head slightly.

“May I?” he whispered, his voice tinged with both nervousness and anticipation.

Your answer was a subtle nod, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in. When his lips met yours, it was everything and more—a kiss that was sweet and full of emotions he hadn’t been able to put into words.

The sound of a particularly loud firecracker made you both pull away, and you glanced over to see Minjeong jumping up and down, her sparklers lighting the space around her like a scene from a movie. Jihoon stood beside her, looking half-annoyed but undeniably endeared, his arm loosely draped around her shoulder.

“They’re going to tease us, aren’t they?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Mingyu replied, his grin mischievous as he reached for your hand. “But I don’t care. Let them.”

As the night sky lit up with dazzling fireworks, you felt a warmth bloom in your chest, not from the cold or the firecrackers, but from the boy whose hand you held—steady, grounding, and impossibly right.

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httpsserene · 1 year ago

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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!

huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)

cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss

here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!

it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.

this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).

the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.

you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.

you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left.

they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“

“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”

charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.”

you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”

you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.

you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like.

you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.

max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.

you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.

you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.

your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.

you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.

now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing.

“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.

the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss.

your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.

charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control.

the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.

eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall.

his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can.

your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing.

thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath.

the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.

you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.

you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other.

the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.

you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face.

even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises.

the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come.

you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.

but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it.

your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.

you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.

after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.

fuck.

a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”

max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath.

but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide.

charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”

max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”

the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom.

max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.

max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”

your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly.

max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”

you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.

the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”

you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“

charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”

you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”

you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”

max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.

“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”

“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”

charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago.

you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy! i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”

a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.

“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone.

a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”

max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.

charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.

“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”

the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.

you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”

“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”

max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.

max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”

“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.

you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”

max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.

“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”

charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“

“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”

you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.

“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“

“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”

you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.

“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”

you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”

max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.

max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.

“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”

you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them.

your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.”

“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.

“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.

he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”

you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”

he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—

“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.

max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”

charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”

you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”

charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”

“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.

“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”

“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”

you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes.

you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.

“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”

“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”

“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste.

you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.

“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”

charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”

“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”

“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”

“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”

“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“

what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.

max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.

you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“

and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.”

they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep.

“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner.

shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”

max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”

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