#maybe the bees could go after him?

[merthurians-prat-and-idiot]

Its been less than 30 seconds of Gerrard on screen and I already want to punch him in the face

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

He dies if you don't pay attention to him, its a very urgent situation for an uncle to attend to.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[beepmon]

i’m panicking about my health, my car, school, my future, my relationships with ppl, about my entire life rn p much

[fastidious-and-a-mess]

just finished s6 of elementary (finished s5 on sunday. lol) and i’m trying to get my friends to watch it also so unfortunately i can’t drown them in my spoilery rantings so instead everything is going in the tags here so uh. abandon all hope ye who enter these tags, spoilers abound

[sufficientlylargen]

It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:

Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.

Guard 1: What weird guy?

Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?

Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?

Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.

Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.

Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.

Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.

Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.

Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?

Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.

Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?

Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.

Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.

Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.

Librarian: How long has he been coming here?

Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.

Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.

Guard 2: Wait, really?

Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.

Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?

Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.

Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?

Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!

Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?

Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.

Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!

Archivist: Also he's really old.

Guard 1: Old as balls.

Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.

Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.

Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.

Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.

Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?

Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.

Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.

Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?

Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.

Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?

Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.

Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?

Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!

Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!

Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.

Guard 1: Why not?

Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?

Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!

Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.

Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.

Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!

Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.

Archivist: You're not a baby.

Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!

Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.

Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?

Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?

Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?

Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.

Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?

Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.

Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.

Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.

Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?

Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.

Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?

Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.

Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.

Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?

Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!

Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?

Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?

Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-

Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?

Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?

Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!

Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)

Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?

Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.

Librarian: Oh.

Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.

Librarian: Oh.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah!

[x-i-l-verify]

#not saying consent and self control shouldnt be valued#because fuck yes they should be #but it completely destroys what their characters are supposed to be #and totally destroys the concept of a sin

Sins Being Neutered By People Who Don't Understand Sins

The embodiment of lust caring about consent and the embodiment of gluttony caring about self-control is the adult equivalent of this.

[shuaflix]

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity

❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kim mingyu x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, rated m for mingyu, slow burn, he fell first but she fell harder but then he tripped and ate shit, probably the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written, mingyu and mc are both virgins, sexual content, sexual tension, protected and unprotected sex (i would not advise doing the latter), lots of teasing and banter, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, wall sex, couch sex, public sex, mingyu discovers what pasties are, soonyoung orders 20 connect fours, they are avid enjoyers of the barbie movies

SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn't), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).

PLAYLIST ▸ perfect by one direction • spell by niki • fatal flaw by ellise • give me a kiss by lolo zouaï • step? by bibi

WORD COUNT ▸ 31,273 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ someone (fia) once told me i write too many college aus. i said yeah ur right. and i’m gonna do it again

“BIRDS AND BEES CANNOT PHYSICALLY FUCK.”

You sounded more distressed than informative while you were trying to reason with your longtime best friend, Kim Mingyu. He, on the other hand, appeared visibly worked up over this childish level of argument you two were having.

“It is a metaphor,” he said. “Everyone knows birds and bees aren’t screwing each other up in the trees.”

You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hours ago, you had fucked yourself over after Kwon Soonyoung had casually brought up the topic of body counts. After everyone in your friend group went around listing theirs (Soonyoung: 3; Jungwoo: 3; Minghao: 2; Vernon: 5), you accidentally blurted out that your body count actually existed—one, to be exact.

This was a problem because, to everyone’s prior knowledge, you were a virgin.

Sure, you kissed a few guys before—maybe had a few heated makeout sessions—but you never really went all the way. Yeah, Mark Lee was coming onto you freshman year, but before he could start sliding his hand down your pants, you nearly screamed and killed the vibe. It was safe to say that Mark never thought about trying to get with you again.

After being barraged with questions about who finally claimed your v-card, you decided to blurt out the one name that felt the safest to you.

And that was Kim Mingyu.

Now, you and Mingyu had been friends for a long time, dating back to your freshman year of college when he wound up being your dorm neighbor. After about a month of Mingyu only knocking on your door to use your printer or air fryer, your relationship finally upgraded to having semi-deep conversations and going to the dining hall together. Eventually, Kim Mingyu became a staple in your life—or perhaps more like a pesky gnat you couldn’t get rid of.

Either way, since you figured that Mingyu was equally as sexually inexperienced as you were, you felt as though your safest bet was to keep your secret with him. This way, the both of you could finally not be labeled as the friend group’s token virgins.

To make matters worse, though, you didn’t expect your friends to have such a dramatic reaction to the news. They were convinced that you and Mingyu were going at it every night. In reality, he was only coming over to your apartment at the dead of night because his fridge had been broken since September. You made a pact with him that you two would take turns cooking every other day, and today was his turn.

(You secretly looked forward to the days when he would cook. Mingyu’s culinary skills were surprisingly top-notch. You were pretty sure his flavor palate was 250% more refined than the average human, considering he could tell apart regular butter from I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.)

So, while Mingyu was frying salmon, you were bombarding him with questions about sex. After all, if you were now living your life as a self-proclaimed non-virgin, then you had to educate yourself on the birds and the bees.

That was where the argument arose because what the fuck did the birds and the bees have to do with anything?

“So why do they use the birds and the bees?” you asked. “Why don’t they use, like, the butterflies and the bees? You know, pollination? I feel like that makes more sense.”

“It’s ‘cause birds hatch eggs, which is supposed to symbolize, like, female ovulation,” Mingyu explained, “and bees pollinating flowers is for male fertilization.”

You leaned back in your seat, absolutely mind-blown. Mingyu took your silence as understanding and turned on you, pointing his large cooking tongs in your direction.

“You’re way too innocent to be telling everyone we slept together,” he said. “I’d start watching porn or something, ‘cause asking me about the symbolism of the birds and bees isn’t gonna cut it. That’s middle school behavior, Y/N.”

Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment. “I’m not innocent! I know how sex works; I just don’t understand how you like… you know, do the deed.”

Mingyu snorted. “You can’t even say it properly!”

“Can to!” you fired back before folding your arms across your chest. “I just choose not to because of my Miranda Rights. You know, my right to remain silent and all that.”

“I don’t think that applies here.”

“It can.”

“Yeah, okay. But not when Soonyoung asked about your body count?”

“You’re not still upset about me telling the group we slept together, right? I swear it was a total—”

“Of course I’m upset, Y/N,” he interjected. “I wanted my first time to be my first time, and you just told everyone we fucked like it was nothing.”

Yeah, it was safe to say that the tension between you and Mingyu had been growing for a while. You two still hung out as usual, but he would sometimes drop passive-aggressive comments about your fuck-up that would make you feel miserable for the rest of the day. There wasn’t anything you could do but apologize, especially when Mingyu insisted that you two keep up the farce so that your friends wouldn’t get on your back for being a liar.

You could tell he cared—deep, deep down���about how this would affect you. Honestly, he was too good for you.

“Anyway, we can’t do anything about it now, so let’s drop it.” He sighed, and the only sounds you could hear for a moment were the fan running and the salmon sizzling on the pan. You waited until Mingyu started plating the food. “Dinner’s ready.”

For a few minutes, you two ate in utter silence. The only sounds in the room were the occasional scraping noises of fork against plate.

Mingyu decided to speak up. “I submitted one of the pictures I took to an art gallery.”

“Oh, really? The sunset ones you took when you went camping with Jungwoo?” you asked.

“Yeah, a few of the ones I developed looked really good, so he suggested I try sending them in. They haven’t reached out yet, but I’m hoping they put it up for their exhibition.”

“That’s sick. I’ll go see it with you if they put your work up.”

You two relapsed into silence after Mingyu hummed appreciatively. He was back to chewing his thoughts away while you wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

“I fucked up, Gyu,” you admitted. “I really fucked up. I’m sorry.”

He smiled one of those lopsided, easygoing grins that could put anyone at ease. Yet, you still felt disheartened that he knew exactly what you were referring to.

“It’s whatever. At least you saved us from being asked if we’re still virgins.”

“I feel like I’m living a lie,” you grumbled. “It’s been eating at me for the past week. I might just fess up to Soonyoung.”

“You do know he’s gonna get mad at you for lying about something so petty.”

“But it’s even worse if he finds out later on!”

Mingyu just hummed in response, brows knitted together like he was pondering over something.

“Yeah, I guess,” was all he said, ending the discourse as he set your plate of food down in front of you on the dining table. You poked at the delectable salmon with your fork. “Don’t worry about what Soonyoung thinks. Sex isn’t something you can just jump into if you’re not ready.”

“But I am ready,” you complained between mouthfuls of food. “Every time I’m in the mood, I get so close and then chicken out. Maybe I’m just not doing it with the right person.”

“That would also be an important factor.”

You shook your head to dismiss the topic. “Whatever. Maybe they won’t bother us about it now that they think the deed’s done.”

“Maybe,” Mingyu echoed, although clear uncertainty hung in those syllables.

Once, in high school, you lied to your P.E. teacher about being on your period so that you wouldn’t have to participate in swimming for a week. On another occasion, you lied to your parents about going to your friend’s house to work on a group project so that you could actually drink alcohol for the first time.

Lying to Kwon Soonyoung was a whole other realm of difficulty.

It had been less than a day since you and Mingyu brushed off your lie that blew out of proportion. You were stupid to think that it wouldn’t haunt you further because Minghao wore a simpering smile on his face as soon as he saw you and Mingyu walk into the library together.

As soon as you two took your seats at your friend group’s respective table, Soonyoung and Jungwoo immediately started hounding you with more questions. Mingyu was clearly irritated—whether that was because he didn’t want the topic brought up again or he didn’t appreciate Soonyoung getting distracted from their little app developing session, you had no idea. They must have been excited now that they had both of their targets to harass.

“You are never willing to put out,” your bewildered friend rambled, “and you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here.”

“Wow,” Mingyu spoke up. “That was, like, the worst possible way to phrase that.”

You frowned. “Dick repellent?”

“C’mon, everyone here knows about the whole Mark-gate incident.”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, whatever went down between Mingyu and I just… happened. I have nothing else to say on the matter.”

“You know what just happens?” Vernon Chwe, who normally kept his two cents to himself, decided to blurt out. “Losing your passport. That’s the kind of thing that just happens.” The sour tone his voice took on indicated that he was still bitter about showing up at the airport with Boo Seungkwan for his Italy trip last summer without his passport. “But sex? That doesn’t just happen. It’s a process.”

“Unless you were under the influence,” Minghao added. Then, he turned to you and Mingyu with curious eyes. “Were you drunk? High? Coked out?”

Obviously, you and Mingyu weren’t smart enough to cover all the bases of your lie, so neither of you planned out a story beforehand. Taken by surprise, he ended up stuttering, “N-no?”

“So it didn’t just happen,” Jungwoo said with a grin. “You two knew what you were doing.”

“I think you guys are making this way deeper than it actually is,” you replied. “We were just horny and things ended up going that way. That’s all there is to it.”

Minghao snickered. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

“Well, you should,” you started, voice rising along with your temper, “because Mingyu’s hot, and it’s perfectly normal for a young woman to want to have sex with someone who looks like a walking wet dream!”

Your table fell silent, and you suddenly wished you had dramatically stormed away after your (loud) confession. There was nothing subtle about the judgment and concern in everyone’s eyes, but most importantly, you were horrified to see Mingyu’s equally horrified reaction to your outburst.

“Walking wet dream,” Soonyoung parroted in a quieter voice, amusement tugging at his lips. “I’m gonna make that his contact name now.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “Well, I guess it checks out. Mingyu did say he found Y/N cute for a while.”

Your cheeks burned. He found you cute?

Mingyu, who was now blushing tomato red, covered his face with his hands and groaned. If you weren’t so mortified about embarrassing yourself and Mingyu in front of your entire friend group earlier, then you might have found him a little adorable.

So, you fucked up. Again.

You played out your conversation with your friends about five different times, thinking of various outcomes that could have taken place instead. If you didn’t blurt out the first thing that came to your head on impulse, then maybe you wouldn’t have dug a deeper hole for yourself.

Plus, you had to deal with Mingyu now.

Jungwoo’s words kept parroting in your head like a broken record. Cute. What did that mean, anyway? Squirrels were cute, and you were hoping you had enough sex appeal to not be put on the same tier as squirrels.

Of course, you ended up leaving the library after mumbling some excuse about having to attend a professor’s office hours. Although that was a complete lie, your friends seemed to buy it. You thought you were off the hook until you received a text from your friend.

mingyu: can we talk later?

You didn’t know what to think. If this lie of yours ended up breaking your friendship with Mingyu for good, you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to forgive yourself. So, you settled for curling up on your couch and spooning ice cream into your mouth until the pain subsided.

It was nearly midnight when the knock came at your door.

When you opened it, the very man you didn’t want to see was standing big and tall. You were tempted to close the door on Mingyu, but there was no point in pushing him away even more.

“I forgot to reply to your text,” you said.

“I know.” Mingyu looked you up and down, which you couldn’t help but blush at, but you figured he was just eyeing your Hello Kitty pajamas. “Can I come in?”

You opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside. “Are you here to yell at me?”

“No, although I should after what you pulled,” he teased, and you were grateful that he sounded lighthearted again. The tension was still thick, though, and you were certain it was because of the indirect confessions of attraction you both let slip. “I’m here to make a proposal.”

“What is it?”

Mingyu shrugged off his jacket, revealing his toned, muscular arms. You wondered just how much work he put into bulking up at the gym, and then your thoughts started to drift elsewhere. Thinking about how buff his chest was, thinking about how broad his shoulders were, thinking about how—

“A solution to both of our problems,” Mingyu interrupted your thoughts as he took a seat on your couch. He pointed at the bowl of ice cream you left on a cushion. “Is this cookies and cream?”

“Yeah, you can have some.” You took a seat next to him and inquired, “So… explain.”

“Okay, uh, well…” He trailed off, trying some of the ice cream after fiddling with the spoon for minutes. “Hey, this is really good ice cream.”

You gently pushed his spoon down before he could scoop more into his mouth. “Gyu, get to the point already.”

“I never noticed your coffee table was such a nice shade of brown.”

“Mingyu.”

“Could this be mahogany?”

“Mingyu.”

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, turning his head down ever-so-slightly. You were a little terrified that he was going to go on a spiel about ending the friendship, but then he said, “We’re both in predicaments. Our friends won’t leave us alone about the sex thing and you’re still heated about being a virgin. I mean, I’m also tired of my partner being my right hand, so like…”

Oh god. Mingyu was going to ask you to have sex. Kim Mingyu was about to get in your pants right now.

And were you against it? Not at all. The only thing that worried you was that you weren’t sure if you were ready—for sex and potentially blurring the lines of friendship between you and Mingyu.

“So, what are you getting at?” you asked, trying to play off your unnaturally high-pitched voice with a cough.

“Well, after that uncomfortable conversation earlier, I was just thinking… I clearly find you attractive and you find me attractive,” he said, and when he ducked his head a little, you could see the tips of his ears flaming red. “I’m saying I’m down for you to be my first.”

You willed yourself not to stammer over your words as you said, “I thought you wanted your first time to be special.”

“I do,” he mumbled. “That’s why I started thinking about it seriously after you called me a—”

“You don’t have to repeat it,” you cut him off quickly, your face feeling hot again. “But yeah, I’ve always thought you were hot—um, objectively. I didn’t think you thought the same about me, though.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied shyly, “but I also know you’ve tried to have sex multiple times and back out whenever you get close.” Before you could respond, Mingyu pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and set it down between you two. “That’s why I made this.”

You eyed the paper curiously, glancing at Mingyu for his approval to go ahead and open it. When he gestured for you to do so, you picked it up and unfolded it.

(EX) VIRGIN CONTRACT

Both parties may request whatever they want to try

Either party may approve or deny the other’s request

The contract ends at either party’s request

The friendship must not be ruined, and if the friendship is ever in danger of being ruined, the contract will be terminated.

“I figured it would be less intimidating with you since we both have no idea what’s going on,” Mingyu continued. “This way we can explore whatever we want without judgment.”

(Mingyu would never admit it to you, but part of him was eager to see you underneath him with that shy expression of yours melting away into pure, unadulterated lust. And you would never admit that you wouldn’t exactly hate that.)

“I’m not gonna lie,” you started, “I think we would be bullied even more for this.”

“That’s the unspoken rule number five,” he explained. “We keep whatever this is between ourselves. I know you struggle in that area, but—”

“Oh, shut up.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you set the paper down. “I don’t know…”

“Take your time to think it over.”

“Actually, I’ve made up my mind. Let’s do it.”

Mingyu did a double take, his features curiously pulling together. “Um, I meant that you could take a few days. Not milliseconds.”

There was a reason as to why you caved quickly. Your thoughts had been running at a billion miles per hour for the entirety of your conversation with Mingyu. You were confident that your decision was well-calculated.

Did you want to fuck Mingyu? Yes.

Were you terrified of possibly ruining your friendship? Absolutely.

However, considering the conversation had already happened, the course of your friendship had drastically changed already. The only thing even more potentially damaging than bringing physical intimacy into the relationship was rejecting this offer. If you turned Mingyu down now, your interactions with him would soon fizzle into awkward, cordial small talk.

“Hey, I think it’d be fun,” you decided to say instead of giving him the rundown of your internal crisis.

“Really? You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t agree to it if I wasn’t. I mean, it’s a big proposal.”

He gave you one of his lopsided smiles. “Right. I didn’t wanna rush into it or anything, but I think we should talk about it more when you’re ready.” Mingyu picked up the remote and handed it to you. “So, wanna get back to our Barbie marathon? We’re on Fairytopia, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, taking the remote from him with a touch of disappointment settling into your bones. Part of you was hoping he would get to it right away. “Yeah, we can talk about it later.”

You two did not talk about it.

It had been approximately six days and Mingyu had not reached out once about your contract. You were starting to think that you should have added some sort of clause about response time because the silence was killing you.

The next time you saw him was at a Kappa Sigma party. Soonyoung and Jungwoo always extended an invite to you, which was nice because that meant you could walk right in without being checked out and approved by some frat brother. You would normally drag Shin Ryujin along with you, but she insisted that she wouldn’t be able to wake up for her midterm if she went out to drink. Thus, you figured you wouldn’t show up, but after seeing Mingyu in the background of Minghao’s Snapchat story (which was a video of Vernon snorting a line off some girl’s stomach), you got your ass out of bed and threw your sluttiest top on.

Thirty minutes later, there you were, listening to Lee Chan ramble inside of the Kappa Sigma house. Ten feet from your target: Kim Mingyu.

“I got scammed, Y/N,” the frat brother, who was deep in five beers and four vodka shots, ranted to you while occasionally slurring his words. “Soonyoung ropes me into joining for friends, but I already knew all the people in the frat, anyway!” He paused to take another swig of his beer. “Zero benefits! Zero!”

Although you enjoyed Chan’s company, you were really trying to get Mingyu’s attention. Since walking in and waiting for him to approach you didn’t work, you were going to have to march up to him directly. Unfortunately, the drunk freshman in front of you was not helping one bit.

“That blows,” you replied sympathetically, “but at least you get to party, and you don’t have to worry about finding housing.”

Chan scoffed. “Yeah, if I’m not a sober monitor, then I just get alcohol poisoning. I can never win.”

For the next thirty minutes, you ended up listening to Chan drone on about how the world was against him. Eventually, he started to realize that he didn’t have it all that bad, and then he passed out after you helped him to the couch. You gave up on trying to get Mingyu’s attention; all of your attempts had been in vain, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

After talking to Vernon briefly, though, you found the opportunity to strike. Jungwoo announced a game of rage cage, so you were going to expertly place yourself next to Mingyu. Since everyone else would be focused on the game, you would use that chance to invite him to talk privately later.

Your plan was going smoothly until you stood next to Mingyu and realized he was a shot away from blacking out.

“You look like you’ve been through the trenches and back,” you said.

“Can’t tell where the floor is.”

“Under your feet.”

“Wow, you’re right.”

He was most definitely not in the right headspace to have a conversation about the contract—or to have any conversation, really.

“I’ve been wondering if you’d show up,” he continued. “I wanted to see you.”

Curse your heart for fluttering pathetically.

“You did?” you asked.

There was no time for Mingyu to respond because everyone around the table started screaming at you. When you turned your attention back to the game, you realized the red solo cup was in front of you and Vernon was about to stack you.

“Careful, Y/N, Vernon’s been on a roll,” Minghao taunted, eyes lit up with amusement as he watched you fumble with the ping pong ball.

“I have,” Vernon confirmed. From across the table, he smirked at Joshua Hong, who you figured was his victim from the last game.  

Your lips curled up in a lazy grin. “Yeah? Let’s see if you can stack me even once.”

So, you lost. Miserably.

Vernon was on a roll, and you formally apologized for ever doubting him. (You apologized after getting stacked for a third time, but Vernon didn’t ease up on you. He was a ruthless killing machine.)

On top of the six times you got stacked, you also ended up being the unfortunate bitch cup receiver. You downed it without too many complaints; you were past the point of scowling through your drinks. It would have been less pathetic if you hadn’t talked yourself up so much.

On the bright side, you and Mingyu had gotten so drunk that Soonyoung ushered you two into his room to sober up. Since Chan had already thrown up on the couch, your friend decided that it was better to make sure you were in close proximity to a toilet.

Soonyoung instructed, “Remember, if you feel like throwing up, make sure you go to the—oh my god, Chan, keep your clothes on!”

He groaned and slammed the door shut so that he could chase after his intoxicated friend. You were just thankful that you weren’t that drunk. The room was starting to spin, however, so you were dreading waking up with a headache in the morning.

“You were terrible today,” Mingyu mumbled. His shoulder brushed against yours, and you ended up leaning against him. “But I’m glad you sucked ass.”

Your lips curled in distaste. “What the hell?”

“I only got stacked once thanks to your god-awful performance.” He let his head hang so that he could suck in a sharp breath. “Wow, I feel like shit.”

“You’re such a bitch,” you complained. “I was gonna ask you something serious, too!”

“Oh, really? What is it?”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you now!”

You almost stammered at the end of your sentence when you saw Mingyu’s puppy eyes on full display. Despite the pleading look on his face, you couldn’t help but notice the way the stray rays of sunlight that poured into Soonyoung’s room were catching onto Mingyu’s honeyed skin. It made his dark brown eyes look like melted amber.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making you feel hot or if the humidity was created by the drunk college students packed into the house like sardines, but Soonyoung’s room felt balmy. Your shirt clung to the sweat beading your back, but all you could think about was how close you and Mingyu were.

It seemed as though he was thinking the same thing. “We should open a window or something.”

“It’s so hot,” you whined. “Feels like a sauna in here.”

“I know. Soonyoung never opens the windows, even though there’s no air conditioning in here.”

“He should invest in a fan.”

“Yeah, that’s why I like your place. You have a nice cooling system.”

You laughed. Mostly because you had very different intentions for this conversation, and here Mingyu was, talking about your air conditioning.

You were sobering up, but you still felt drunk off Mingyu’s attention.

Like he was sharing a secret, your best friend leaned in close to your ear while trying to suppress a giggle. “Should we get out of here?”

“And go where?”

“Your place. Duh.”

“I don’t know if I can even walk downstairs,” you mumbled, suddenly afraid that he was going to think you were a bore.

“I can,” Mingyu said, and before you knew it, he was kneeling down with his back facing you and his arms reaching back. You just stared at him for a moment before he shot you back a questioning look. “What’re you waiting for? Get on.”

You sort of let your body fall against his, but Mingyu helped you regain your balance almost immediately. He gripped your thighs firmly while you looped your arms around his neck. When he stood up, you almost gasped upon realizing how high up you were. It was in that moment when you were suddenly hyper-aware of how massive he was, how strong his back muscles were, and—

He yelped. “Bug!”

—how this man was terrified of everything under the sun.

If you had Mingyu’s height, you wouldn’t let anything stop you. But here he was, cowering even as he towered over the tiny spider that was crawling across the floor.

“You have got to be kidding,” you deadpanned. “You can so easily step over it.”

“They jump.”

“Name one instance where a spider’s ever jumped on you.”

He stiffened. “Uh, never. But that’s because I avoid them at all costs.”

Eventually, with some persuasion and promises of ice cream at home, Mingyu did manage to step over the beast, which was a common house spider. Kim Mingyu struck gold in the gene pool lottery. It was only fair that he had some stupid-sounding fatal flaw.

You whispered instructions on how to sneak past the crowd and giggled into his ear while he tried to creep downstairs and walk out the front door. Thankfully, the house was so packed that hardly anyone noticed you and Mingyu leaving. Only a few guys outside greeted him, but they were simultaneously puking their guts out.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to the party?” you asked as your chin rested on his shoulder. You were genuinely curious because Mingyu always invited you if there was a party. “I only found out when I saw Minghao’s story.”

“Uh… I was about to text you, but then Soonyoung wouldn’t shut up with the teasing and I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable if you showed up,” he admitted, and, from where you were, you could see the tip of his ear turning pink. “But I was hoping you’d come on your own.”

You tightened your grip on him. “I wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable.”

There was silence for a while between you two, and you felt like the balmy night air was thick with undiscussed feelings. A topic that you and Mingyu were mindful about skirting around, even when the aftereffects of liquid confidence still coursed through your blood. You could hardly even realize it yourself.

Your chin rested on his shoulder. Mingyu had given you piggyback rides before—back when you two were freshmen and still a little shy around each other. The first time was when you ended up twisting your ankle during a Halloweekend party, resulting in Mingyu offering to carry you back to your dorm. You hadn’t had many guy friends before college, so the thought of casual physical contact with a man was strange to you back then.

Everything slowly started to feel natural between you and Mingyu. Now, it was as if someone took a hammer and smashed your perception to pieces. The air was suddenly stifling and you were overly-conscious about how Mingyu’s chest swelled whenever you adjusted your hold on him.

He set you down once he reached the front door of your building. You had mostly sobered up by now, though you were certain you would lose your footing if you took the stairs instead of the elevator.

By the time you two had reached your door, you were already going off on some tangent about how you technically had more sexual experience than Mingyu, despite your total confusion over the actual mechanics of intercourse.

He kicked off his shoes before walking into your living room. “I think you’re underestimating me. Just because I’m saving my first time doesn’t mean I have zero experience whatsoever.”

“Saving it for me,” you teased.

“God,” Mingyu hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if your words were truly headache-inducing (but it was mostly to hide his blush). “I never should’ve told you that.”

“Hey, you can’t take it back now.” A giggle bubbled from your lips. “You think I’m cute.”

“I didn’t say cute.”

“I’m repeating exactly what Jungwoo told me.”

“No, he downplayed it for you. I told him”—Mingyu had turned to you fully, placing his hands on your shoulders and letting them slide down to your forearms—“that you’re…” It was as if he snapped out of some sort of trance, shaking his head to stop himself from rambling. “Never mind. Forget what I said.”

“What?!” you exclaimed, pushing at his chest. Hard. “You can’t just say that and back out!”

He winced, shooting you those puppy dog eyes that always made you melt. “I’ll tell you one day.”

“And that day better be today, ‘cause—”

“One day,” he repeated. “It’s too late now. We have a busy day tomorrow.” Mingyu squeezed your forearms gently before letting go and fishing out his phone and keys from his pockets. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Whoa, hold on. What do we have tomorrow?”

The corner of his lip raised in amusement, nearly going unnoticed. “We have that contract to get to, don’t we?”

Obviously, you weren’t able to get any sleep when Mingyu’s words kept sending butterflies to your stomach.

It took an hour of tossing and turning for you to finally get some sleep. That smirk of his kept replaying in your head, flashing behind your eyes over and over again until you forced yourself to blink the image away.

When you woke up in the morning, it was because Mingyu gently tapped your shoulder until you stirred. Since it was a Saturday, you were hoping to sleep in, although the sunlight making Mingyu’s tanned skin glow under its rays was a pleasant sight to wake to.

He grinned, flashing his brilliant white teeth. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” You yawned. “Was the couch comfy?”

“Yeah, I fucking love your couch,” he said, “but it did get a little lonely out there.”

Your chest seized for a moment. Was that an invitation? Or was he suggesting that you could have joined him? Not to mention you could detect the faintest trace of longing in his eyes.

It was too early in the morning for you to think straight, though, so all you could do was that breathy laugh of yours—the one that always sounded frazzled and nervous. Laugh and change the topic.

“So, why’re you up so early?”

“I gotta meet up with Jeonghan real quick, but I’ll drop by later,” he explained. “Forgot I agreed to go to the gym today.”

You remembered Jeonghan—the cute senior from Kappa Sigma that always brought a different girl to their parties. You had spoken to him once or twice after Soonyoung introduced you. It was all small talk, though, nothing of significance. The only distinct memory you had of Jeonghan was how Soonyoung sent him home in an Uber during one party he was blacking out at last year only for Jeonghan to take that Uber right back to the party.

“Alright,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. “You can take the spare key.”

“Say less.”

After Mingyu left and you stretched in your bed for a while, your phone went off with several texts from Minghao. Some of them were from last night, but you had passed out by the time he started sending them.

hao: dude where are you hao: AND WHERE’S MINGYU hao: we’re about to uber back soon hao: soonyoung said he left u guys in his room and now ur both missing?? hao: wait jk i forgot i have ur locations hao: BRUH hao: oh my god hao: u gmfu hao: psa i will be extremely annoying until you spill everything

hao: GOOD MORNING hao: RISE AND SHINE hao: now spill

y/n: good morning. y/n: dot dot dot

hao: bitch hao: i'm onto you

y/n: 😀 y/n: wanna get breakfast? y/n: we can go to that new açai bowl place that opened up near campus y/n: i can spill then

hao: sure i’ll pick you up in 10

The açai bowl place was unfortunately mediocre.

You were not impressed with the range of toppings and neither was Minghao. You two ended up settling for your regular orders with several inclusions left out. To top it off, the bowls were insanely overpriced, leaving you and Minghao thoroughly unsatisfied.

You sat at one of the tables with him, scooping granola into your mouth as you listened to him talk about his experience at the party. Apparently, Vernon started to black out as soon as they made him do a keg stand, so Minghao and Jungwoo took the liberty of taking him home and tucking him in bed. Soonyoung was scrambling around the house because the party had gotten so out-of-hand that one of the neighbors called the cops on them.

You ended up explaining how you and Mingyu ended up going home, fighting down the heat spreading across your face whenever Minghao would shoot you a knowing look. It was as if he was saying, Oh, man, you two are practically already dating.

“Yeah, and about that,” he started and cleared his throat, “you two are still virgins, right?”

Your jaw went slack for a moment, and all you could do was stare at your friend until he let out a questioning hum.

“What?” Minghao continued. “Okay, I haven’t told the others about what I noticed or anything. I just picked up on it last night.”

You frowned before asking, “You picked up on… my v-card?”

“No.” He scoffed. “I picked up on the way you and Mingyu were acting around each other. If you guys actually had sex, there’s no reason for you to act all shy whenever Mingyu comes near you. So, I concluded that either you two haven’t fucked or you caught feelings for him.”

You swallowed hard. For the most part, Minghao had pieced it together perfectly, but you were unsure about his last presumption.

First of all, you had zero idea that you were acting shy in front of Mingyu last night. Sure, there were moments where you felt like your heart dropped to your stomach, but you didn’t think it was noticeable enough for other people to pick up on it.

Second of all, you were pretty sure you were just caught up in the excitement of potentially having sex with Mingyu. Minghao was probably mistaking your anticipation for an emotion too complex for you to feel for your best friend.

Lastly, he caught your virgin self red-handed. Since you still hadn’t established a proper story with Mingyu yet, there was no way you could defend yourself now. Not when you were blanking on excuses.

“H-huh?”

“You were still acting like Little Miss I’ve Never Felt The Touch Of A Man, is what I’m saying.”

You frowned. Okay, rude.

“Fine. You got me,” you replied, sighing in defeat. “We’re both still virgins. I really fucked up when I started running my mouth in front of you guys.”

Minghao almost seemed alarmed for a moment, but his expression relaxed. Slowly, his smile tugged into a proper laugh. It wasn’t enough to wipe the mortified expression off your face, though; in fact, you felt even more humiliated.

“I knew it,” he said. “I knew there was something fishy about your story!”

“Please don’t tell the others,” you begged. “Soonyoung’s gonna hate me if he finds out I lied to him.”

Kwon Soonyoung was especially sensitive about lying. Most people were, of course, but Soonyoung prioritized trust in his relationships, whether they were platonic or romantic. Once, when he found out his ex-girlfriend lied about where she would go on Friday nights, he broke up with her a week later.

You weren’t sure how he would react to your lie, but you weren’t enthusiastic about finding out.

“You’re gonna tell him eventually, though, right?”

You sighed. “I know I have to eventually. I just have to find the right timing. Things got complicated between Mingyu and I, so I’m trying to figure that out first.”

Minghao took a sip from his Coca-Cola. “What happened between you and Mingyu?”

You swallowed down a mouthful of açai and granola before explaining, “So, basically, to clear up the lie about Mingyu and I, we’ve decided to lose our virginities to each other.”

“You’re losing your virginity… to cover up a lie?”

“No! I mean, technically yes, but, like, I just think—”

“Listen,” he interrupted. “I know you’re terrible at math, but let’s put two and two together here.” Despite the offense drawn across your face, he continued, “Mingyu’s been saving himself for that ‘special someone,’ so obviously, he wouldn’t just lose his virginity to anyone.”

“You’re saying he’s gonna back out?”

“I’m saying—” Minghao cut himself off and a smile spread across his face. “You know what, I’m gonna let you figure that out for yourself. My work here is officially done.”

“What?! You can’t just say that and give me no context!”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Vernon told me not to meddle, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut until you see it for yourself.”

“See what for myself?” you asked with an exasperated sigh.

“You’ll see.”

When you got home, Mingyu was already in your house with a large whiteboard in the center of your living room. Before you even opened your mouth to ask where the hell it came from, he explained that he “borrowed” it from the community room downstairs. (You made a mental note to return it before anyone noticed it missing.)

Your head was still turning after your conversation with Minghao, and you weren’t all that great at hiding your expression. As soon as you made eye contact with Mingyu, you could tell he knew something was up.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you replied as you shrugged off your jacket. “How was the gym? Also, why the whiteboard?”

He grinned. Scrawled on the board in blue Expo marker were both of your names as headers for columns. Mingyu handed you a black marker and stood with one hand gripping the top of the board.

“Step one,” he started. “We write down anything we wanna try, and then we approve or veto the options.”

You uncapped the marker. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“No judgment?”

“No judgment.”

You started writing down whatever desires you had pushed down for years. Albeit short, you figured they covered all the bases. Weeks ago, you wouldn’t have dreamed of admitting any of them to Mingyu; now that your relationship with him took a turn, however, it wasn’t so hard to reveal them.

Next to you, Mingyu was shamelessly jotting sex positions down like he had them memorized. You peeked at his list out of the corner of your eye and nearly did a spit take. The first one on your list was kissing, but Mingyu had started off with anal.

Although he agreed to zero judgment, you were finding it hard to feel the same way.

Once you two were done, you stepped back to look at the whiteboard with its two complete lists side-by-side. Mingyu’s list was considerably longer than yours, but you stood by your own. You felt as though yours was more natural, more gradual.

Y/N

Kissing

Neck kissing

Touching

Penetrative sex

MINGYU

Anal

69

Cowgirl

Wall sex

Public sex

Phone sex

It had come to your attention that Mingyu, like every other man, was incredibly horny.

You had been worrying about the act of sex itself for ages, and your best friend was suggesting something far beyond your capabilities? You weren’t even considering doing anal in the next ten years, let alone for the sake of your contract.

Mingyu snorted. “Kissing.”

“You said no judgment!”

“I thought it was cute, that’s all,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Anyway, anal?” You scoffed. “I don’t know if your list is exactly beginner level.”

“Well, that’ll just make you an expert by the end of this, won’t it?”

You couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. “Okay, how about we start with my much more reasonable list, and then we can get to your scary, intimidating one once we actually, um… do the deed.”

“You have seriously got to start just saying sex.”

“Shut up.”

Mingyu’s smirk was not helping your blush one bit, so you just pretended the embarrassing warmth spreading across your chest didn’t exist. Instead, you grabbed the whiteboard eraser to wipe off the ink from the word anal.

Your best friend slash fuckbuddy let out a petulant whine, so you smacked his bicep.

“I approve of the others for now,” you started shyly, “but we start yours after my list is finished. Do you have anything from mine that you don’t approve of?”

The question wasn’t very sensible, considering all of your list was a prerequisite for more than half of Mingyu’s list. However, after your conversation with Minghao, you were still unsure if Mingyu actually wanted to go all the way with you.

“Nope,” he answered, smiling at you with questioning eyes as if his answer had already been clear as day. “Your list is pretty tame, y’know? Not that it’s a problem or anything.”

Before you could answer, he sucked in a sharp breath and looked over at the board again. “Actually, maybe we should get rid of your first one. It might mess with, uh, rule four.”

Ah, the fourth rule: The friendship must not be ruined, and if the friendship was ever in danger of being ruined, the contract would be terminated.

You were devastated that it had come back to bite you in the ass.

In an attempt to veil your disappointment, you shrugged and turned your head away so that your best friend wouldn’t see the rejection clouding your eyes.

“I’m just curious, but why’re you against kissing?” you asked. “I mean, I just feel like it’ll be awkward if we don’t.”

“You know, it’s the whole neurotransmitters and dopamine rush thing, Y/N,” he explained. If you weren’t feeling so miserable about your best friend turning you down, then you probably would have giggled at his random neuroscience tidbit. “It’s such an emotional act.”

Part of you understood Mingyu’s reasoning behind avoiding kissing. If you were so affected just by his words and eye contact now, then kissing him would mess with your emotions. You weren’t exactly sure if you held kissing at more of a sentimental level as Mingyu did, but you agreed that it intensified intimacy.

Before you were about to hesitantly accept his words, though, Mingyu added, “Judas, in fact, betrayed Jesus with a kiss.”

You couldn’t believe those words came out of his mouth.

“Yeah,” you started, “I don’t think these situations are comparable.”

After gingerly prying the whiteboard eraser from your fingers, Mingyu crossed out “kissing” from your column. The dried ink from the dry erase marker streaked across the board, leaving fragments of ink scattered about that he didn’t bother wiping off. (You were a little distracted by the little zap of electricity that coursed through your veins after his fingers brushed against yours.)

Without missing a beat, Mingyu asked, “You don’t have, like, crabs or anything, right?”

“You’re accusing me of having pubic lice?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” he mumbled, “I guess it sort of sounds like I am. I mean, I don’t actually think you have crabs! I just—you know… it’s good to ask.”

“No, Mingyu, I don’t have crabs.”

“Good, good.” His voice trailed off awkwardly and he leaned against the frame of the whiteboard. His unrelaxed mannerisms were making you feel nervous. “That’s always good.”

“Do you have crabs?”

“I do. Her name’s Clawdia, but with a w, like claw.”

“Mingyu,” you warned.

“I’m kidding.” He held his hands up in defense. “No crabs here. Except Clawdia, but she belongs to Wonwoo.”

You rolled your eyes. Mingyu’s roommate since freshman year, Jeon Wonwoo, was someone you surprisingly didn’t have a lot of interactions with despite him and Mingyu being best friends. Whenever you went over to Mingyu’s place, Wonwoo was normally locked up in his room, either studying or gaming away.

Apparently, he also owned a crab.

“Alright, so,” you started in a small voice, “when do we start?”

His eye contact was galvanizing, sending little currents shooting up your spine. For a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. All you could think about was how brown Mingyu’s eyes were and how they swallowed you whole whenever his gaze set on you.

Normally, you could see glimmers of sunlight dancing across his irises. Now, the look in his eyes was almost ferocious, like two voids that sucked you in.

His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and you almost picked up on the raised pitch of his voice when he proposed, “How about later?”

“Later sounds perfect.”

Telling white lies became increasingly easier around Kim Mingyu.

Later never came.

You were starting to experience major déjà vu because it was so like Mingyu to chicken out after giving his word. Not one phone call or text to meet up, nor did you two bring it up in day-to-day conversations.

On one particular night, though, Mingyu sent you a semi-suggestive message, asking for permission to come over. Since you figured you would be in for a long night, you made sure to shave and spritzed yourself all over with your favorite Givenchy perfume. To your dismay, Mingyu was quick to mention that he wanted to continue your Barbie movie marathon. You begrudgingly spent your night watching Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses.

(And you swore his fingers brushed against yours under the blanket you two shared, but when you glanced up at his face, flickering with the shifting TV light, he pulled his hand back faster than it happened.)

The very moment a Barbie movie would start playing, you knew that absolutely nothing would happen between you and Mingyu. And, even if he tried to initiate anything, you wouldn’t reciprocate because there was no fucking way you would taint your wholesome Barbie marathon experience with sexual intercourse.

A week flew by without any follow-up on the contract, but you supposed you were partly to blame, too. There were several times where you could have brought up the topic yourself, but you were just as hesitant as Mingyu. Talking about it was one thing, but acting on your hormones was a feat of its own.

All the waiting and anticipation over Mingyu hopefully making a move was simply making you hornier. It was hard to even think properly whenever you started daydreaming of his lips on top of yours, dragging down your neck, moving down your body—

“—and that’s why you will be receiving twenty boxes of Connect Fours.” Soonyoung finished, causing you to snap out of whatever fantasy was playing in your head.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t really know how to articulate myself better here,” he said. “Twenty boxes of Connect—”

“No, no, I heard what you said,” you interrupted, “but why the fuck?”

He waved your question off. “That’s not important. What’s important is that you let me know when you get those twenty boxes.” He flashed you a grin and a thumbs-up when you just nodded, dazed. “Thanks. This is why I love you.”

You took a nervous sip from your vanilla milkshake. (Soonyoung worked for the Undergraduate Student Council, which meant you could exploit him for his free dining dollars.)

You couldn’t help but feel crushing guilt every time you spoke to Soonyoung, especially when you two were hanging out one-on-one like this. Mingyu had been harping on and on about how it wasn’t that big of a deal, but maybe it was because the thought of losing your virginity was such a huge deal to you that you kept brooding over your lie.

And, to make matters worse, all you could think about was Mingyu because you were horny out of your mind. The longer he stayed away from you, the longer you kept thinking about him. You almost wished he hadn’t initiated this stupid contract if he wasn’t going to follow through with it.

“Hey, look, it’s your walking wet dream,” Soonyoung said, and lo and behold, there he was: Kim Mingyu fitted in a sleeveless white shirt and gray sweatpants.

He was walking with Jungwoo, whom you assumed came from the gym, too. Mingyu’s hair was damp and matted to his neck, and his muscles were accentuated by a faint sheen of sweat. They didn’t notice you and Soonyoung at first, too occupied with their own conversation, but after Soonyoung hollered from the table you two were sitting at, the two men started looking around until they spotted you.

Maybe you were seeing things, but it was almost like Mingyu seized up at the sight of you.

“Y/N!” Jungwoo was looking at you as if a lightbulb just went off in his head. “I’m formally inviting you to join Kappa Sigma in Vegas this weekend.” When you were about to protest, he continued, “Apparently, Chan’s date flaked on him last minute, so he’s looking for someone else to go with him.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “So what’s the catch?”

“No catch. You get to go to Vegas for free and hang out with me and Soonyoung.”

“Seriously?”

Soonyoung grinned. “C’mon, it’s Sin City.”

Mingyu scoffed. “Wait, this weekend? Isn’t that kind of short notice?”

“It’s Vegas, and everything’s covered. All you have to do is pack a bag or two.” Jungwoo clicked his tongue before patting Mingyu’s chest. “You won’t mind, right? Y’know, since you two fucked and all.”

“Jungwoo!” you screeched, horrified by his blunt wording.

“What? It’s true.”

Mingyu lowered his gaze. “It just happened once. No big deal.”

“See, Mingyu doesn’t have any hard feelings,” Soonyoung said, elbowing you gently in an attempt to lighten your mood. “You have Chan’s number, right? Just shoot him a text when you decide.”

You nodded half-heartedly. Some sort of sick grief pressed against your lungs, snaking its way up your throat and making it hard to breathe. It grew hotter and hotter until you had to swallow it down before any tears started rolling down your cheeks.

“We gotta get to our next class,” Jungwoo said, jerking a thumb in Mingyu’s direction, “but just say yes! Think about it: free hotel, free transportation, free drinks—we’ve got you covered.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, huffy. “Maybe I will.”

You felt stupid. Completely and utterly stupid.

Kim Mingyu, although easy on the eyes, was proving to be quite difficult for your heart.

It wasn’t like you two were dating, nor had either of you even kickstarted your friends with benefits relationship, so there was no reason for you to be upset over his words. As many times as you tried to push it down, you kept seeing his twisted expression when he uttered those three words that pricked you like thorns. No big deal.

No big deal that you felt like crying your eyes out over Kim Mingyu, who wasn’t even anything to you other than a friend. No big deal that you were curled up on your couch, watching a TV show that you were barely paying attention to, but the noise made you feel less alone. No big deal that you were scooping your cookies and cream ice cream into your mouth, thinking about how it was his favorite flavor.

The stupid part was that Mingyu was just covering up your mess. You two didn’t even have sex, and he was just going along with the lie that you came up with. There was no logical reason for you to be mad at him.

And you realized that logic wasn’t often involved in matters of the heart, anyway.

A knock came at your door at approximately 9:15 p.m.—right when you were about to take a shower and drag yourself to bed. You figured it was Mingyu before you even opened it because no one else would show up uninvited.

“Hey,” he said, taking note of your disheveled appearance with an agonizingly slow sweep of his eyes. An ugly part of your heart wanted to believe he possibly could have been checking you out. “Are you busy right now?”

“I was just doing my assignment, but it’s due tomorrow, so I’m chilling.”

“Sorry, I should’ve called or texted.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s all good. Did you need anything?”

You could see him visibly swallow before asking, “Can I come in?” As soon as you opened the door wider, letting Mingyu step through the entry-way, he turned to you and let his shoulders sag. “I feel like I fucked up somehow.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” you said, keeping your back turned to him as you closed and locked your door. Your hand lingered on the door knob for a moment until you pulled away and headed to your living room, hardly sparing Mingyu a glance. “You were just covering for our lie.”

That clearly wasn’t what was plaguing Mingyu, though. Even after you clarified that he hadn’t done anything wrong, it still looked like something was bothering him. His eyes were hard and his jaw was jutting out, which was what his face usually set into when he was sulking.

“Are you really going to Vegas?” he asked, then added, “With Chan?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know yet. It sounds fun. I mean, they’re covering practically everything for me, so I might.”

The reality was that you didn’t care if you went to Vegas or not. Sure, you were more interested after finding out that you didn’t have to pay for transportation or the hotel. Plus, getting to spend time with Jungwoo and Soonyoung away from your college town sounded like a fun experience.

However, you didn’t like the idea of being Chan’s replacement date. You also didn’t want him to feel obligated to go with you just because he had no one else to go with. You also didn’t know what being his date actually entailed because you didn’t want the whole weekend to consist of his frat brothers egging him on to make a move on you.

Like Mingyu said, it was short notice. You were definitely going to feel stressed about making plans for Vegas when it was days away. Not only did you have to pack, but you had to make sure you were all caught up on your schoolwork before you spent your weekend drinking and partying. It didn’t help that you weren’t even done with your assignments due tomorrow.

Mingyu frowned. “You do realize it’s this weekend, right? And you’re probably gonna have to skip your Friday classes to make it.”

“Yeah, I realize that.” You scoffed. “I don’t see why it concerns you, though, considering you and I have both skipped classes before just because we didn’t feel like going. Do you not want me to go or something?”

“It’s completely your decision.”

“If it’s completely my decision, then why are you here? And why are we talking about this?”

He faltered, stammering over words that he couldn’t string together before saying, “Look, it’s your choice whether you go or not. I’m not gonna sit here and tell you I don’t want you to go.”

You paused. A stupid jolt of your heart made you ask, “You don’t want me to go?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You literally just did.”

Mingyu took a moment to replay his own words in his head, his expression morphing from confused to dumbfounded in a matter of seconds. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Okay, yeah,” he said, “but I didn’t say that to change your mind or anything.”

“Well, if you’re gonna bring it up, then at least give me a reason to stay,” you said with an exasperated breath, “or else why should I pass up a free trip to Vegas?”

He pulled away quicker than it happened. One minute you were frustrated, and the next you felt Mingyu’s soft lips pressed against yours for a brief moment. Then, you were frustrated again because it was over so soon. You were blinking away your shock as Mingyu’s hair tickled your face before pulling back.

He kissed you.

Kim Mingyu kissed you.

“You could just stay here,” he murmured in that velvety voice of his, reaching over to card a hand through your hair, brushing that one spot under your ear that made you shudder, “with me.”

Your eyes followed his movements while the rest of your body was frozen, stunned by the sudden physical contact. Mingyu’s voice grew huskier and his eyes darker, but all you could think about were how big his hands were as his fingers ghosted your collarbone.

His lips tugged up in amusement because from one glance, anyone could tell he had an effect on you. There was no denying the electric current running through your body; it was making it harder and harder for you to resist him.

You wasted no time in pulling him down by his collar and kissed him with earnest longing tucked into the corners of your lips.

He didn’t reciprocate until his eyes glazed over with lust, and then Mingyu was grabbing at your waist and pulling you closer. His touch burned, nearly making you flinch underneath the pads of his fingers. If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, there were times where you imagined his lips on yours like this—a thought that crept into your head whenever you saw girls chatting him up at parties.

In sophomore year, Mingyu had a thing with a girl named Hayoung for a few months. There wasn’t a party that would go by without you seeing Mingyu in a corner with her, whispering little secrets that they would laugh at. That was also the year when you became scarily good at hiding your lingering stares. You eventually mastered the art of people-watching without being caught.

And, deep down, you were probably jealous.

And that was probably why you felt like you were in the clouds when Mingyu’s lips were finally on yours.

The two of you were soon engulfed in a cloud of lust once Mingyu nipped at your bottom lip with his sharp canines and slid his tongue into your mouth. You let slip a sound that was something between a whimper and exhale, but it was quickly muffled by Mingyu’s mouth pressing harder against yours, licking into your mouth eagerly. It was as if your lips were molding together in perfect harmony.

It felt as though time melted away, pooling at your feet until you couldn’t move one bit. You felt Mingyu’s big hands ravage down your body while yours were looped around his neck. Just when he started tugging at your clothes, he pulled back and sucked in a sharp breath to ground himself.

You did the same, letting your chest rise and fall steadily as you stared up at him with hints of lust in your eyes that hadn’t ebbed away just yet.

A few moments of silence passed before Mingyu looked toward the whiteboard that you had moved up against the wall.

“Why was kissing on your list, anyway?” he pressed. “You’ve already done it before, so it’s not like it’s anything new to you.” You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Nothing was making sense in your own head. Mingyu stepped closer to you and let his gaze fall to your lips. “Is there another reason?”

You two were impossibly close. So close that you could smell the cologne wafting off him. Feel the cold metal of his chain against your skin.

You were positive that Mingyu could pick up on the nervous hitch in your breathing. Your stomach knotted tighter and tighter as he towered over you, and your heart bruised against your rib cage with how hard it was beating.

“I guess I just felt like I wanted to kiss you,” you admitted, dropping your voice so low that it was barely audible.

But Mingyu heard it. It was clear by the unmistakable grin that stretched across his face.

Always the gentleman, Mingyu asked, “Does that mean we’re ready for step two?”

“What’s step two?”

“Step two on losing your virginity,” Mingyu announced with a dramatic flourish of his wrist to amplify his theatrical voice, “is to set the mood.”

You were pretty sure you and Mingyu already had a good mood going on until he interrupted to announce that.

“Wait, so you were waiting for…” You cut yourself off, shaking your head in disbelief as your eyes focused on his sheepish grin.

“You have to actually want me so that we can start,” he reasoned. “I can’t, like, make you feel good if you’re not into it.”

“But you knew I was attracted to you. I literally called you a ‘walking wet dream’ in front of all our friends.”

“That’s different. You finding me hot isn’t the same as wanting to kiss me.”

“O-okay,” you stammered, “but how do I know if you feel the same way or not?”

“Well,” Mingyu started in that low, husky voice of his, setting his hands on your hips after a beat of hesitation and pulling you closer, “I could just show you.”

His breath was hot against your ear, and you felt as if it lulled you into some sort of trance as he pulled you toward him. Closer and closer until he was sitting on your couch and pulling you on top of him. Before you could even straddle Mingyu properly, he started planting kisses up the column of your neck. Each one grew more hungry than the last as he nipped and sucked at your tender skin.

This was not happening.

Well, of course this was supposed to happen, but you hadn’t exactly mentally prepared yourself for this very moment. The very moment when you and Mingyu would physically cross the line of friendship.

“That feel good?” he purred against your skin, the vibrations making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The fire in his stare made you feel like putty in his hands.

“Mmhm,” was all you could muster without falling apart, so you just wrapped your arms around him tighter.

You winced when he bit down on a particularly sensitive patch of your flesh. For a while, Mingyu just sucked and nipped at the side of your neck until he was pulling back and you were whining for more. His thumb brushed against the bluish-black mark he created, and you could only imagine how much concealer you were going to need to cover it up.

His lips attached to your neck again. For a moment, you thought he was going to give you another hickey until his pecks traveled up all the way to kiss a tender spot under your ear, and then you two froze for a few seconds, not knowing how to proceed. Mingyu’s lips tugged into a frown as he looked at you with an inquisitive hum.

His gaze fell to your lips. “Should I just—”

He cut you off with a swift, experimental peck to your lips. A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw how flustered you looked after.

“Mingyu,” you said in a small voice, “I thought you said no kissing?”

“I don’t care anymore.”

Once again, his lips chased yours until he successfully captured them in a searing kiss. You immediately melted in his hold, and even though part of you was screaming at the other half to stop and think about what you and your best friend were doing, all you cared about was the way Mingyu pulled you closer by the waist, higher onto his lap.

Yet, although you were unbearably horny, you still flinched when Mingyu’s fingers slid under your shirt and sprawled out against your bare midriff.

He froze instantly and then drew his hands back until they were resting on your thighs. You couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh, curling your hands into fists so that your nails were pressing crescent-shaped indents into your palms.

You shook your head, your breath stuttering in your chest. “I’m sorry. I’m all good. I just need to—”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Mingyu said, reaching over to brush your hair out of your face. His other hand stayed on your thigh and gave you a comforting squeeze. “We’re doing this at your pace, remember? We can stop whenever you want.”

But even though he said the right words to put you at ease, you still couldn’t help but feel frustrated with yourself. You just didn’t understand why you had that mental block keeping you from going further. The mixture of discontent and irritation painted across your face was clear as day. But you didn’t want to feel like an idiot in front of Mingyu, so you uncurled your fists and placed your hands on his chest instead.

“Can we try again tomorrow?” you asked shyly.

A single angry tear slid down your cheek, which Mingyu took notice of and promptly wiped from your face with his thumb.

“Of course.” His eyes were a little wide, like he was momentarily buffering while he was trying to figure out how to comfort you. His eyes darted around the room before they settled on the TV remote you kept neatly on top of a stack of books on the coffee table. “Wanna continue our marathon? I think we’re on Island Princess now.”

After you nodded, Mingyu gently helped you off his lap so that you two could watch the movie together. As he toyed with your remote, you couldn’t help but glance at his arms, watching his biceps flex under his shirt. You thought about how they were just circled around your body, and you soon wished his touch was back on your skin.

A short while into the movie, Mingyu’s hand found itself on top of your knee, and you bit back a small smile as it stayed there for the rest of the night.

Mingyu spent another night on the couch—accidentally, because you two fell asleep in the middle of Barbie and the Island Princess—but, this time, you ended up spending the night right next to him.

Of course, nothing happened other than you tossing and turning a few times due to Mingyu’s snores and prying yourself out of his grip so that you could nestle into your blanket. It was an unfortunate fate that you and Mingyu wound up waking up on opposite sides of the couch.

You kept your eyes screwed shut after you woke up, though, choosing to wallow in your own thoughts for the first ten minutes of your day. You couldn’t get over what happened between you and Mingyu last night, and it was making you dread the thought of facing him once you opened your eyes. You were praying that he wouldn’t regret what went down.

It made you feel better that he didn’t shy away from you during the movie. He even made some light jokes about what you two did, which, at the very least, made you glad that he wasn’t having second thoughts.

(“I don’t know why they didn’t call you Captain Chastity By Choice,” Mingyu blurted out while scooping popcorn into his mouth. “We already knocked out half your list.”)

“Morning,” he grumbled in that husky morning voice that made your stomach feel like you were free-falling off a cliff. His soft, sleepy eyes gave you a once-over before he said, “I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

You had been peeking at him through barely-open eyes, but you gave up your farce and straightened up to face him properly.

“Good morning,” you greeted back. “Sleep well?”

He hummed before leaning in to peck your lips—a gesture that caught you off-guard because you didn’t think he would just start casually kissing you whenever. It felt far too intimate for you to brush it off as hormones acting up. You didn’t have the time to ask Mingyu why he did that before he started complaining.

You thought back to the whiteboard where Mingyu crossed out kissing, leaving behind faint traces of dry ink.

“Sort of,” he replied with a pout. “You stole the blanket! I had to curl up in the corner because I was freezing.”

He was rubbing small circles on your thigh with his thumb as he spoke, and you wondered if he knew the effect he had on you.

“By the way,” he continued, “I have an idea.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Let’s not make sex our goal. We can start slow today—maybe just foreplay until you’re comfortable with me.” He straightened up and crossed his legs so that he could face you. “No one’s taken the time to make you feel comfortable first, right?”

You recalled your list of unsuccessful trysts, starting with good old Mark Lee, who unfortunately became reduced to an inside joke in your friend group. After that, you were only intimate with two other men in your college years.

One was Choi Yeonjun, who you stopped while he was in the middle of stripping down so that you could make your escape. He was hot and all, but your nerves caught up to you by the time his tongue was down your throat. The other was Lee Minho, who was an absolute sweetheart, but you ended up calling an Uber to take you home after you saw his (somewhat intimidating) hard-on.

They were quite embarrassing recollections.

“You’re gonna spend the whole day making me feel comfortable?” you asked, and there was a hopeful gleam in your eyes that made Mingyu feel like he was a supernova among stars.

“If that’s what it takes.”

You had to appreciate Mingyu’s commitment.

After making pancakes for you and showing you Reddit stories on TikTok as you ate (which you also spent nearly an hour dissecting afterward), he got right to pulling you onto his lap and tracing a path up and down your forearms. Of course, he let you keep scrolling through his TikTok because you had gotten so immersed in the Reddit stories. Mingyu offered commentary as you two listened to each one under your new favorite profile of the hour.

“Her boyfriend invited another girl to his team dinner?” Mingyu gasped upon hearing the further details, still ghosting his large hands along your arms.

“Not the asshole,” you confirmed at the end with an adamant nod. “He was totally shutting her down when she told him she was uncomfortable.”

“He’s definitely got feelings for the other girl.”

You nearly sucked in a breath at his words. For whatever reason, the very mention of feelings made your nerves feel like cut wire. It was probably because whatever you and Mingyu had become was toeing the line of situationship.

Later, you ended up laying on top of him as a random Disney movie played on your TV. You didn’t exactly remember the process of you two choosing what to watch, but neither of you paid any attention after Mingyu slipped his hands past the hem of your shirt. The pads of his fingers burned against your skin as he drew circles on your bare waist.

“Higher,” you whispered.

Mingyu hummed inquisitively, peering down at you with an amused smile. He ran his hands up your torso so that his fingers rested right under the underwire of your bra.

“Like that?” he asked, and the teasing inflection in his voice made it clear that he was waiting for you to beg for more. And, oh, he loved the look on your face as you fought down your embarrassment. You shook your head before he cooed, “No?”

“No,” you echoed, “higher.”

Mingyu’s fingers slid up just enough to feel the wiring lining your bra cups. He frowned and moved one hand to the small of your back, snaking his hand up until he was holding onto the clasp.

“Mind if I get this out of the way?”

“Go ahead.”

He unclasped your bra with expert precision, his fingers working effortlessly to undo the hook. Your eyes were practically bugging open as you felt the fabric fall from your chest, wondering where in the world Mingyu learned how to do that. You didn’t have the mind to ask, though, because as soon as your bra straps came loose and fell down your shoulders, Mingyu’s hands cupped your breasts and squeezed experimentally.

This was probably the farthest you had gone in terms of physical touch, and you didn’t feel strange at all. Something about Mingyu’s touch was comforting, like the warmth of the sun enveloping you whole.

He rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, making you wince upon contact. You didn’t realize you were so sensitive already. It was clearly affecting Mingyu, too; you could feel something hard poking your thigh, and from what you gathered, it was impressively large under his sweatpants.

“So,” you started, a little too nervous for your liking, “all this is supposed to help me feel comfortable during sex?”

“Yeah, I worked it all out in my head,” Mingyu said between intervals of circling your nipple with his thumb and kissing your neck. “This is all part of my extremely helpful guide to helping you lose your virginity.”

“I wouldn’t call it extremely helpful, considering you’re a virgin yourself.” You laughed when Mingyu pouted in response. “What? I’m just saying I don’t think you have the credentials.”

“I will in”—he proceeded to check an imaginary watch on his wrist—“two business days.”

Two business days, as in the two days Soonyoung and Jungwoo had left for their Vegas trip. Mingyu was determined for you both to lose your virginities by then, although he reassured you over and over again that you could always speak up if you needed more time.

You had been getting several updates from Soonyoung and Jungwoo throughout the day. Apparently, Chan ended up going stag, but last night you saw two girls draped over him on Jungwoo’s Snapchat story. It made you feel a little less bad about turning down being his date.

“Plus,” Mingyu continued, “I have no problem getting naked right now. You’re the one who’s holding back.”

There was a challenging fire in your eyes. “You have no problem?”

“Nope.”

“Alright.” You put your hands over Mingyu’s and pushed them away from your body. “Then strip. Getting comfortable being naked means we have to actually be naked, right?”

“That means you have to undress, too.”

“Fine.”

He looked amused. “Fine.”

Fuck.

You were nervous.

And surprisingly, it wasn’t the thought of being naked in front of Mingyu that made you nervous, it was seeing your best friend completely nude that had you worried. It was no surprise to anyone that Mingyu was a looker, and you weren’t sure you were ready what he looked like under those clothes.

Mingyu gently moved you off of him and stood up to start stripping off his pants and shirt. His shirt came off in a single, swift motion, revealing his toned, muscular body. Years of work were etched in the grooves of his abdomen, his soft stomach complemented by strong muscle. Mingyu was never the type to show off his body at the gym, but you were starting to wish you were prepared for how gorgeous he was.  

Next, he pushed his sweatpants down until the fabric swamped his ankles. You swallowed hard when you saw the growing bulge in his boxers, but seconds later you were looking at how his hard cock stood right up as soon as his boxers had been discarded somewhere across your living room floor.

He was huge.

“Your turn,” he murmured.

You felt your pulse race.

“That’s not fitting inside me,” you blurted out, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “There’s no way that fits inside me.”

“It’ll fit, Y/N,” he replied softly, reaching forward to take your hands in his. “I’ll do everything I can to make it fit comfortably, and if it doesn’t work out, then we can just keep trying at whatever pace works for you.” You looked skeptical but Mingyu held up his pinky finger. “Promise.”

There was no room for you to doubt him when he was looking at you with those big, hopeful eyes. So, you hooked your pinky finger with his and smiled when he helped you take off your shirt, still keeping your fingers interlocked.

Since you normally slept without a bra, your torso was fully bare once your shirt was off, so Mingyu nearly choked on his spit when he saw you. You moved your free hand to slide your shorts down while his eyes were fixed on the swell of your breasts.

“Can I motorboat your tits?” he asked bluntly.

You snorted immediately, taken aback by his straightforward question. Not only that, but your pinky fingers were still hooked together—a rather intimate gesture followed by a vulgar question.

“Whoa there, Sex Education. Let’s take it down a notch.”

He chuckled before sitting back down on the couch. You thought he would’ve wanted to take care of his hard-on, but Mingyu just held out his arms to you.

“What?” you asked, letting him grab your waist and pull you flush to his chest. Your brows furrowed more when he grabbed the TV remote from your coffee table. “What’re you doing?”

“We have to finish Barbie and the Island Princess, don’t we?”

You gave him a look before it clicked for you. This was all part of Mingyu’s plan to make you feel comfortable—pushing your limits and then settling for something that would put you at ease—so you cozied up to him and let him play the movie.

A demure smile stretched across your face. “Only if we can cuddle.”

“As my lady commands,” he joked, and then you were both laughing.

(And, spoiler: he did more than cuddle.

The way he kissed you made you feel like you were standing on hot coals. His tongue was halfway down your throat and his hands ran up and down your sides. You kissed him until your lungs burned for oxygen and you had to pull back for air. Mingyu peppered love bites all over your body and, by the end of the night, you two were a tangled mess of limbs on the floor with your sweat matting your hair down.

But, most importantly, you two finally got through Barbie and the Island Princess.)

There were a few reasons why Mingyu was roommates with Jeon Wonwoo.

He specifically chose not to room with someone in the friend group for two reasons: the first reason was because Wonwoo’s living habits aligned more with his, and the second reason was to avoid any possibility of ruining the friendship dynamic. Mingyu had his fair share of horror roommate stories, dating back to freshman year when his roommate in the dorms lived like a slob and muttered borderline psychopathic threats in his sleep. You remembered countless nights when Mingyu would knock at your door and ask if he could sleep on the floor.

For Mingyu, Wonwoo was his only saving grace since sophomore year.

You had gone to their room a few times, but you never overstayed your welcome. Although Wonwoo never complained, you felt guilty every time he walked out of his room with AirPods in. It was like he knew to block you out when he heard you coming in.

Today, since Mingyu had been working on code all day, you offered to bring him boba from the farmer’s market that you went to with Ryujin.

You double-checked the label on the side before handing him the drink. “Strawberry matcha.”

“Thanks. I’ve been deprived of boba since fall semester.” He grinned as he tore the plastic wrapping his straw was in. Mingyu popped the straw into the sealing film and took a sip before handing it to you. “Want some?”

“Sure.” You graciously took the cup to sip the delicious fruity blend. Shyly, you added, “It’s also a thank you… for last night. You actually helped a lot.”

You could tell Mingyu was fighting down a smirk; you could practically hear it in his tone. “Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, I actually did feel a lot more comfortable after all that.”

He flashed you a bright grin. “See? It’s the guide.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“I’m serious! It’s effective, isn’t it?” He set his drink down to turn his chair and look up at you properly. “You may think I thought of all that on a whim, but I really put extensive thought into it.”

You had to give him credit for the whole scientific method thing he had going on. You wondered if Mingyu’s consecutive six years of participation in the science fair had prepared him for this very moment.

“Extensive thought,” you echoed. “What? Did you write it all down in a notebook or something?” You laughed it off like it was a joke, but when Mingyu’s expression didn’t budge, you realized that you had hit the nail on the head. “Oh my god, you wrote it down!”

Mingyu huffed. “It’s not even that big of a deal! Writing stuff down helps me organize my thoughts.”

“Well, can I see it?”

“Hell no.”

“Just tell me which notebook you wrote it in.”

“No, ‘cause then you’re gonna look at it later.”

Mingyu thought he was subtle enough to pick up the notebook in front of him and move it away from your reach. Rookie mistake.

Your eyes followed his movements.

“That’s the one, isn’t it?” you asked, pointing at the red notebook that you’ve seen Mingyu jot notes down in before. He always carried it in his school bag, and you were starting to piece together why you hadn’t seen it around lately.

“N-no.”

“You’re such a bad liar, Gyu.” You hardly noticed his hands finding the backs of your thighs and pulling you down to straddle his knees. “Will you ever let me see it?”

“Maybe,” he replied, “or I can just show you what I have planned.”

It was then when you realized that the front of Mingyu’s jeans did look strained. The visible outline of his bulge made you unconsciously clench, which he smirked at once he felt the pulsation against his leg. You weren’t even sure if he was fully hard, but you could definitely feel him through your cotton shorts once you were pulled onto his thighs.

His lips found yours in seconds. Days ago, this was something you were hesitant about doing, but now it came more naturally. Your hands moved in a familiar path from his chest to loop around his neck, and then it was like a switch turned on for your best friend.

You broke from the kiss for air and you both looked down, foreheads touching as Mingyu grabbed your ass with rough hands and helped you grind down on him. Your head clouded over, and all you could think about was moving your hips to meet his so that you could chase the growing ache between your legs.

“That’s right,” he rasped. “That’s a good girl.”

Oh, if he knew the effect his words had on you. You were shamefully ruining the front of his jeans with how aroused you were.

At this point, his hardened length felt massive under you, so you lifted your hips to see just how big his pants had tented up. Mingyu’s grip on you loosened and he lowered his head, embarrassed. Before he could apologize, though, you got off his lap and sank to your knees.

Ever-so-sweetly, you asked, “Can I help?”

You swore you had never seen Mingyu look so blown away in his life.

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course.” You pouted. “You’ve been doing so much for me, and I wanna make you feel good, too.” You balanced your forearms on his knees and grinned up at him, watching his Adam’s apple bob nervously. “So, can I?”

“Please,” he nearly whimpered, fumbling with his zipper to get his jeans and black Calvin Klein boxers down. You helped him out graciously, tugging the fabric down to his ankles and marveling at his cock once it sprung up, curved slightly to your left. Mingyu nearly fell apart when he saw you between his legs, letting out an eager groan. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

“You’re really big,” you mumbled, tracing his v-line accentuated by his taut muscles, then his hip, and then the long vein that ran down his shaft with your thumb.

You weren’t even sure if you would be able to take all of him in your mouth. Plus, this wasn’t exactly your area of expertise. You knew this wasn’t Mingyu’s first time receiving head, so you were slightly intimidated. You were slightly terrified about possibly not being good at sucking dick, but you figured your mouth could do a better job than his right hand.

But you had already come this far.

Mingyu’s hand carded through your hair, pulling it back from your face. The gesture only made your confidence falter, wanting to just melt like putty in his grip. You reached out to wrap your hand around his shaft, surprised how rock-hard it was. That just made it all the more nerve-wracking to take him down your throat.

He seemed to pick up on your hesitation, gently asking, “Want me to talk you through it?”

You looked up at him and nodded, flushing hotly when you saw his sincere eyes gleam with amusement.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed, grabbing your jaw and gently pressing down on your bottom lip with his thumb. You obeyed and parted your lips just enough for him to slide his thumb into your mouth. “Wider.”

You complied. Mingyu adjusted his hips quickly before encouraging you with a nudge to put your mouth over the head of his cock. You wrapped your lips over his tip, licking off the precum that beaded his slit, and Mingyu hissed sharply.

He let out a sharp breath and let his gaze fly to the ceiling, gripping the arm of his chair. “Fuck, Y/N.”

Mingyu calling out your name so desperately only spurred you to take more of his cock until it hit the roof of your mouth. You were addicted to the sounds of his whimpers, relishing each high-pitched whine from him as you licked the underside of his head. Before, you thought the act of giving head was just extra work for women, but now you were starting to see why it was so addicting. Every moan and cry from Mingyu just made your pride inflate.

You looked up at him through your lashes to see the breathtaking view of his head thrown back and neck veins strained. Mingyu’s hips bucked up slightly, but he fought down his moans to make sure Wonwoo didn’t hear anything.

“Sorry,” he grunted out, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. “Couldn’t help it.”

You pulled off of him for a moment to reply, “I don’t mind if you do it again.”

“Really?” His voice was almost breathless, half-surprised and half-excited.

You nodded, and Mingyu regained his composure a little so that he could sit up and slide his hand into your hair once more. Your lips wrapped around his cock again and sucked gently on his impressive length. His fingers buried themselves into your hair for leverage so that he could hold onto you while he started slowly moving his hips into your mouth.

With the way Mingyu was moving, you could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. He looked at you for confirmation to continue, so you nodded eagerly and sat up higher on your knees to take him in fully.

The first push into your mouth he did was meek—just enough to get the tip of his head down your throat. You tried to relax your throat to take him in easier, blinking back a few stray tears that were brought on by your gag reflex. The second push was a little stronger, getting a little deeper, which roused a moan out of you. Mingyu must have felt the vibration in his cock because he groaned and bucked his hips into your mouth rougher. His thumb found your bottom lip and rubbed it gently, as if he was prying it open wider.

“Fuck, Y/N, your mouth feels so good,” Mingyu breathed out, soft grunts and curses falling from his lips as he went faster.

His free hand wiped away the tears that started streaming down your cheeks. You were past the point of slight discomfort now, and now you were too focused on listening to Mingyu’s pretty moans to think about anything else.

Without any proper warning, Mingyu’s entire body tensed up and he let out a loud groan, shooting his cum down your throat. He threw his head back, and then his whole body relaxed. His grip on your hair tightened and loosened. You squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed down his load before you pulled off of him, watching his chest heave as he tried to control his breathing.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologized profusely. Still winded from his own high, Mingyu was stumbling over his own words. “I didn’t… didn’t think it would happen that fast.” He opened his eyes again and nearly fell apart at the sight of you. “Fuck. Did you really swallow?”

You nodded, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah, I remember Jungwoo told me before that spitters are quitters, or something like that.”

The tension was thick in the room. Although you intended for your comment to lighten things up, the look in Mingyu’s eyes only darkened.

“Come here.”

You could only squeak in surprise as Mingyu pulled you up to kiss him, his rough hands cupping your cheeks. He didn’t seem to care that he was tasting himself on your tongue, and the act only made you moan against his lips. Seconds stretched into minutes before he pulled back.

“My turn,” he said. “Take off your shorts and get on the bed.”

You were reaching to tug down your shorts before he had even finished talking. After sitting down on the edge of your bed, your fingers flew down to tug at your underwear, but Mingyu got to it before you did. He knelt so that he was between your thighs, looking up at you carefully as he slid the cloth past your ankles and lifted one of your legs higher before propping it over his shoulder.

He pulled you in by the hips, dragging his nose up your middle thigh until it reached the apex of your legs. You looked down at Mingyu, breath hitching as you put your other leg over his free shoulder. His hands slid up your thighs and gripped your hips tightly. His long fingers were splayed out at your abdomen, and you felt your stomach flutter.

“No one’s ever gone down on you, huh?” he asked, and you confirmed his statement with a shake of your head. “Just sit back and let me do all the work, then.”

Your nerves caught up to you for a moment. You started to overthink, wondering if the position you were in was unflattering, or if you even tasted good down there, or if Mingyu was only doing this because he felt obligated.

But then he circled your clit with his tongue and you couldn’t think at all.

You cut yourself off by slapping a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the moan that threatened to slip. Your train of thought had completely derailed when Mingyu licked a long stripe between your folds. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as he flattened his tongue against your cunt to taste you better. A soft groan from him vibrated through your core and up your spine.

Your back arched almost immediately. “Oh—oh my god.”

He started kissing your cunt, and god, it all felt so dirty. You had never felt this way before, and now that you knew that Mingyu’s tongue could make you feel this good, you were starting to see the full appeal of sex. He paused to suck on your clit, and you felt like you were short-circuiting while he ate you out like a man starved.

A pressure started building. You grew anxious and shot right up, tugging on Mingyu’s hair. He was unaware of your panic at first, and then he lifted his head once he felt you tap his shoulder repeatedly. Once his mouth was gone, though, you felt that pressure ebbing away.

“Something wrong?” he asked. “Need me to stop?”

You had to push down all of your shame to admit, “I think I have to use the bathroom.”

To your surprise, Mingyu just laughed. “The bathroom?”

“I’m serious!” You flushed, and the warmth that prickled your skin was different this time.

“I promise you, that’s not what you’re feeling,” he said, rubbing your thigh with his thumb in slow circles. His voice was gentle, like he was trying to soothe your nerves. “Just trust me and let that pressure keep building. Eventually, it’s gonna reach a point where it can’t hold itself in anymore, and then you’re gonna feel really good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, so just relax for me, okay?”

You let out a shaky breath, nodding before sitting back in your previous position where you had your elbows propped up. Mingyu returned to your cunt with an experimental lick, lasting all of two seconds before he resorted back to his rough kissing and sucking.

You held onto the sheets for dear life as Mingyu plunged his hot tongue into your core, reaching a specific spot that made your eyes roll back and your toes curl. He kept your hips pinned to the mattress as he licked into you. His nose brushed against your clit with how close his face was. It was the final push to send you over the edge, and the warmth that had been building up finally unleashed into blinding white pleasure.

You came hard. The force of your orgasm nearly knocked the wind out of you, and your back was lifting off the bed as Mingyu tried to hold your hips down with great effort. The warmth of it coursed through your entire body, causing the surface of your skin to bead with sweat and cling to the sheets you were laying on.

And, as a photographer, Mingyu had taken pictures of countless gorgeous views that he’d come across in his lifetime, but the sight of you falling apart because of him was, by far, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He pulled back to rub your clit in gentle circles while you were being pulled and swept away by the undertow of your orgasm. Mingyu murmured sweet nothings to keep you grounded, but you couldn’t process any of his words as your ears rang with white noise.

You blinked slowly as you came down from your high, whining as soon as Mingyu took his hand away from your sore clit. Before you were going to praise him for how good he was with his mouth, his lips returned to clean up the mess you made. You could only writhe and whimper as Mingyu licked at your soaking cunt.

He pulled back to grin at you, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. You had always thought Mingyu looked attractive, but he was godly like this. Your heart raced just by looking at how his dark hair fell into his face and how his canines showed in his smile.

“Earth to Y/N,” he called, waving a hand in front of your face. When you snapped back into reality, you shot him a questioning look. “I was asking how you’re feeling.”

“Good—great,” you corrected, and then you let out a blissful sigh. “Amazing.”

“Great.” He grinned. “Ready for round two?”

“Round two?”

“Yeah, beautiful. You didn’t think we were done yet, right?”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” Ryujin looked mortified upon first glance of the bruises that littered your neck. “Are you hooking up with a leech?”

You had gone over to Ryujin’s apartment to drop off one of the prints she got from the farmer’s market and left in your car. Naturally, you ended up spending the evening there. Since you were so eager to share what had happened between you and Mingyu (telling Vernon or Minghao simply wasn’t an option right now), you ended up spilling everything that went down.

From the contract to you and Mingyu going down on each other earlier today, Ryujin hung onto every single word of yours with her jaw hanging in an almost comical way. She was shoveling handfuls of Hot Cheetos into her mouth as you gave her a detailed rundown of the story.

“This is so messy,” she gushed. “I love it.”

“It’s not messy!” you defended, and then added, “Okay, it’s a little messy, but we agreed to stop if it ever starts affecting our friendship.”

“So, you think sucking and fucking isn’t going to affect your friendship at all?”

You stayed silent.

“You should know that cross-contamination in the friend group most likely leads to disaster,” Ryujin continued as she popped a Hot Cheeto in her mouth. “It’s all fun and games because you guys think you’ll be able to maintain the friendship, but as soon as someone catches feelings, it’s over.”

A heavy sigh fell from your lips. “To be honest, I’m a little worried.”

“Worried?”

“We had this whole rule against kissing and it lasted, like, a week,” you explained. “I mean, we didn’t even do anything during that week, so I guess it lasted, like, five minutes. The rule was supposed to be there so that we wouldn’t catch feelings or anything, but Mingyu completely ignores it now. I’m not reading too deeply into this, right?”

Ryujin pondered in thought for a moment before redirecting the question back to you. “Do you want it to be deeper than it is?”

You frowned. “Huh?”

“Like, think about it,” Ryujin said. “Remember when you had a little crush on Mingyu during freshman year? Well, sometimes attraction doesn’t go away, so maybe your old feelings are coming back up now that you guys are, like, hooking up. Probably doesn’t help that Mingyu’s considered conventionally attractive.”

Sure, you had your occasional moments of weakness bubble up to the surface. It was something you tried to keep under wraps, but you were sure Mingyu could pick up on it whenever you were being extra touchy after intimacy.

They were never really of concern to you, though. You figured that you and Mingyu would live out the rest of your lives in parallel lines, neither of you crossing over to the other. It was what made your relationship with him rather simple, really. You would never cross over to his side, and he would never cross over to yours.

That was, until the contract was put into place.

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, and Ryujin clearly wasn’t pleased with your answer.

“Y/N, imagine him kissing another girl,” your friend instructed. She motioned for you to close your eyes, so you groaned and did as she said. You cleared your head to make room for whatever visualization she was making you do. “Imagine him kissing that girl from the Kap Sig party last year. The one who was all giggly and talkative when Mingyu was with us, and then she ignored us after he left.”

“Oh.” You made a face, not even wanting to picture that in your head. “Yeah, I don’t like that, but that girl was bitchy. I don’t think that necessarily means I have feelings for Mingyu, though.”

“Now, imagine him kissing the most likable girl you can think of,” she said. “This girl is the perfect match for Mingyu. She’s gorgeous, and she has a shoulder tattoo—the kind he went crazy over in freshman year. Not only that, but she’s smart. She takes good care of him. She brings him and his friends cookies whenever she bakes. She’s the kind of girl that everyone can’t help but adore when they meet her for the first time.”

You tried to really picture it in your head this time.

You imagined Mingyu next to someone who would be in his league, someone who made people want to stop and stare. You imagined how he would be complimented wherever he went for him and his girlfriend being such an attractive couple.

You imagined him making dinner for her and eating together. You imagined him laughing at inside jokes only the two of them knew about. You imagined him watching Barbie movies with her.

And it made your heart twist painfully.

You decided to shrug it off instead, saying, “If he’s happy, I’m happy.”

“Enough with that shit,” Ryujin deadpanned. “I’m here for drama. Give me something to work with, at least.” She shook her head disappointedly, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her. Once you simmered down, she continued, “But, in all seriousness, I think you should really be careful with whatever you and Mingyu have going on. It won’t end pretty if someone catches feelings while the other person doesn’t.”

You pressed your lips together in a grim line. “You’re right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyway, back to the juicy stuff,” Ryujin said, inching closer to you while hugging her knees. “What else did you guys do?”

“We sixty-nined,” you whispered, as if it was some scandalous bit of gossip. “He was the six; I was the nine.”

“Okay, never mind, let’s tone down the juicy.”

You woke up to several Snapchat notifications from Jungwoo. They were all sent at four in the morning, and most of them were just him running through the streets of Las Vegas at night without his shirt on. You were mildly concerned, but you figured they were just having fun.

You tapped through the other snaps Jungwoo sent you. Soonyoung blacked out on a bar counter. A hooker sitting on Chan’s lap. Jeonghan with several hundred dollar bills in his hands. Another snap of Jeonghan with the caption stating that he lost all his money.

Then, it struck you that it was their last day in Vegas.

“We have one more day,” you informed Mingyu over the phone, “and then we have to start seeing each other secretly.”

“That’s kinda hot.”

“No! Not hot! I don’t know about you, but I experience crushing guilt whenever I have to sneak around them, like when I lied about us sleeping together.”

“Technically, we’re already doing that.”

You snorted. “You know what I mean.”

“By the way, not contract-related, but you should come over right now,” he said. “I have some good news to share.”

“Is it about your pink eye scare?”

At around two in the morning, Mingyu texted you a picture of his puffy eye and claimed he was “allergic to pussy.” You sent him back a picture of you flipping him off.

It turned out to be allergies, but Mingyu was completely convinced he had pink eye—all thanks to WebMD. You had to listen to him freaking out for thirty minutes until he calmly informed you that his eye wasn’t puffy anymore.

“Not funny,” he warned. “Okay, kinda funny, but—okay, wait, point is, you should come over.”

You giggled. “Okay, I’ll come over. See you soon.”

You hung up the phone to get ready, feeling oddly excited about going over to Mingyu’s. Ryujin’s words from last night started to get into your head, making you wonder how you truly distinguished your relationship with your best friend. Because why did you feel the need to put on makeup to see him when you had never thought about that in your four years of being friends? And why were you taking extra long to pick out an outfit that was supposed to be casual?

You were deep in thought all the way to his doorstep, only letting it dissolve into the backwaters of your memory once the door opened to Mingyu’s excited face.

“They chose my submission,” was the first thing he said, his eyes shining.

You didn’t even have to ask for clarification. Right away, you knew exactly what he was talking about: the sunset photograph he submitted to the exhibition. It had been all he was raving about for weeks.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes were wide as you looked down at your hands helplessly. “I don’t have anything for us to celebrate with! Hold on, I can run to the store and buy, like, cake or—”

“Slow down.” Mingyu laughed. He grabbed you gently by your forearms and grinned. “We don’t need to celebrate anything. Just promise me you’ll come see my photography.”

“Of course.”

“My submission was for you, so you have to go. Promise?”

If it was even possible, your eyes grew even wider. “It was?”

“You’ll see.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, the gallery opening is in a few days. I’ll text you the address and time later.”

“Alright.” You held out your pinky to interlock with his own. “I promise.”

Mingyu wrapped his pinky around yours and grinned before tugging you by the same finger into his apartment. You followed him into his room, eyeing how strong and wide his back was. You were starting to fall back into dangerous imaginations again, wondering if he was going to make a move on you again now that you two only had a day left. Not that you would admit it to your best friend, but you were hoping something would happen.  

“Wonwoo found out Clawdia was getting lonely, so he’s out looking for a pet store that sells hermit crabs,” Mingyu explained. “He was on my ass about it, too, because I said crabs are probably fine being on their own. I mean, they’re called hermit crabs. How was I supposed to know they’re social creatures? Misleading name, if you ask me.”

Although you were (partly) engrossed in his story about Wonwoo’s pet crab, your eyes couldn’t help but linger on the red notebook on Mingyu’s desk.

He picked up on what was distracting you before you could even tear your gaze away, saying, “You’re so nosy.”

You made a face. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” His shoulders slumped as a retired sigh escaped his lips. You could see that you had been wearing him down over the notebook, so he bargained, “Alright, I’ll show you on one condition.” He plopped down on the edge of his bed. “I want something in return.”

You were most definitely taking his words the wrong way because your cheeks were heating up while Mingyu remained completely impassive.

“Something in return?”

“Yeah, I want an answer,” he started, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “When exactly did you start finding me cute? Or, in your words, a ‘walking wet dream,’ right?”

You barked out an unamused laugh. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m telling you.”

“Notebook,” Mingyu reminded.

Suddenly, you were elated about show-and-tell.

“You first,” he insisted. “I assure you, mine is regrettably more embarrassing.”

“The first time I found you cute…” you trailed off, trying to recall the exact moment you started appreciating your best friend’s attractiveness. “I’d say it was in freshman year when we went on the hike together during orientation week. You were all sweaty and wrapped your arm around me when we took a group picture at the top. I was going crazy about it to Ryujin, but then we became good friends, so I just pretended I never felt that way.”

“Freshman year?” he asked, wide-eyed. “You thought I was cute back then? I was a baby!”

“We were eighteen. Don’t make me sound like a creep.”

Mingyu laughed. “I just can’t believe you thought I was cute back then. I didn’t even think you thought about me like that.”

“It was our first week and I was cut loose from my parents.” You shrugged. “Plus, I think every girl in our orientation group wanted to get in your pants.”

“Not Ryujin.”

“No, she was still dating that guy from her high school, remember?”

You scrunched up your nose at the memory; back in the first few months of your freshman year, Ryujin always ditched you and Mingyu at random points during the night because her controlling boyfriend would call to make sure she wasn’t out and about. He was especially suspicious of Mingyu for being an attractive, well-liked man. You found the whole thing ridiculous because her boyfriend was keeping her from having fun and making friends.

To make matters worse, Mingyu ended up finding out Ryujin’s boyfriend was cheating on her after seeing one of his mutual friends post him on her private Snapchat story. It was a picture of them in bed together, and he completely denied it when confronted. You and Ryujin bonded the most during the week she planned to dump her boyfriend, and she ran straight to you once she did. After she cried her tears and used up all of your tissues, you two had your own beach bonfire to burn all of the gifts he got her.

You still remembered how you and Mingyu were back then. Since you two were still new friends, things were still a little shy and awkward. It wasn’t until your third year that you and Mingyu got closer, starting to hang out one-on-one instead of with Ryujin. Since she got busy with internships and her club activities, Ryujin grew a little distant from Mingyu, although they were still on good terms.

“Alright,” you said, impatience sticky like honey on your tongue, “your turn.”

“Ah, right.”

Mingyu walked over to his desk and picked up the notebook. You watched how he rubbed the back of his neck before turning back to you, and his head was turned so that you wouldn’t catch sight of his blush. (You noticed, though.) He flipped past several pages, eyes skimming through math formulas and physics problems before he landed on a page with several scribbles and arrows.

“It’s, like, this page and a few more,” he explained. “Knock yourself out.”

(You decided not to point out that it was more like ten pages.)

You grinned, thrilled, and laid out the notebook in front of you so that you could take everything in. Right away, Kim Mingyu’s Guide to Losing Your Virginity was scrawled at the top. You snorted, grabbing a pencil from his desk to write Unhelpful before Guide. He watched you nervously as your eyes flitted from note to note, your smile growing bigger at certain things he wrote.

A poorly-drawn arrow from how to make y/n feel comfortable to make sure she knows she can take everything at her own pace made you feel something warm and fluttering in your chest. You couldn’t believe Mingyu put this much effort into making you feel good—so much effort that he had entire pages in his notebook dedicated to brainstorming how to pleasure you. You had never been so focused in your life as you read through what he penciled in, and one idea in particular caught your attention.

suggest REALLY sexual things so she feels more comfortable sharing what she wants to do. this will probably make her judge (bully??) you but it’s for good reason

“You’re kidding,” you said, eyes still fixed on the notebook. “You made your list that long just so I wouldn’t feel awkward?”

Even though you asked the question, you were barely listening to him as your heart pounded in your chest and your blood rushed in your ears. You didn’t even have half the mind to see the shy expression painted over Mingyu’s face because you were so locked in on the notebook. His stammering and backtracking became background noise as you were hyper-focused on the words he wrote.

Somehow, this felt bigger than any emotion you had experienced before.

You were consumed, and it scared you. Sweltering in the overwhelming feeling of longing and possibly something more. And you realized that even if you ended up with someone else after all this, a part of you would always belong to Mingyu—the part of you that watched Barbie movies and liked coming home to a dinner for two.

Was it presumptuous for you to assume that Kim Mingyu could possibly harbor romantic feelings toward you? Was it safe to say that maybe you felt the same way?

“—but now that you’ve seen it,” you finally heard him say (after taking a few seconds to register his voice), “can we take out phone sex from the list? I was never really big on that.”

You looked up at him and laughed, a touch distracted because you were still caught in the tide of your own revelations. But you laughed like you were eighteen again, sitting in Mingyu’s dorm room and listening to him recount one of his hilarious stories about him getting lost on campus or being chased by seagulls.

And now you were twenty-one, sitting in Mingyu’s apartment and giggling like you were eighteen again.

Everything melted away, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to kiss Mingyu.

You sat up on your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck. You didn’t think you had ever looked at Mingyu with such unadulterated desire in your eyes.

Craving. Longing. Yearning.

All of it was festering inside you.

“You’re such a dork, Gyu,” you murmured before pressing your lips to his.

This time, when you kissed him, you felt like all of the stars in the sky hung below the clouds just to witness this very moment. Mingyu was stunned for a few moments before he brought his hands up to pull your face closer to his. His nose brushed against your cheek, and you let a giggle slip between soft pecks and deeper kisses.

He pulled back for air, labored breaths falling from his lips before he found you again. This time, the kiss was deeper, rougher. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as Mingyu held you tighter, squeezing your sides so hard that you were arching up against his body.

You had always tried to push down hope before it was born, but the way Mingyu held you made you feel like you were on top of the world. You wanted to believe there was longing in the way his hands ran up and down your body, but you were too scared that you were mistaking his lust for something more.

Even as he pulled away once more to catch his breath, keeping his eyes flitting between your eyes and lips while his forehead was pressed against yours, you so desperately wanted to believe that there was something more behind his affectionate gaze. Something real.

It was when he pressed a chaste kiss to your nose that your hope bloomed in your chest like a valley of flowers kissed by spring.

His hand found its way behind your head, bringing you back to him for more. You felt like you could be there forever, just exchanging wordless affection and holding each other close. Mingyu moved over you so that he was suspended over your body, starting to lick into your mouth once your back hit the bedsheets. You accepted it almost immediately, parting your lips so that your tongue could dance with his.

Then, you were whining against his lips, begging for more. The sloppier and dirtier your kisses got, you were desperate for more skin-to-skin contact. You hooked your finger into one of his belt loops and tugged him closer, which resulted in Mingyu grinding his hips down against yours.

“You want more?” he asked, more raspy than coherent, really, and you could only nod in response as you pulled him closer. Mingyu peppered kisses from your jawline to the column of your neck, leaving behind love bites that you would need a lot of concealer and color corrector for later. “I don’t wanna rush—”

“No, Gyu,” you urged him, tugging him forward by the front of his shirt. “I need you.”

His voice came out in a breath. “Need me?”

“I want you. I want you to be my first because I… I trust you.”

He grinned brightly, canines on full display while his hair was a tousled mess above you. You were pretty sure his smile would be imprinted behind your eyelids forever.

His hand slipped under your shirt and ran up your back, maintaining eye contact with you and looking pleasantly surprised at the absence of your bra.

He pressed a tender kiss to the side of your neck before helping you pull off your shirt. Mingyu’s face was set in a grin before his smile slowly fell, replaced by a look of utter confusion. His brows were pulled together in perplexion as he stared at your tits.

Or, more specifically, the pasties over your nipples.

“Oh, my bad,” you said, unfazed, “I forgot I still had those on.”

“What is it?”

“Seriously? You’ve never seen a nipple cover?” you asked, making your best friend yelp when you peeled the adhesive off your skin. Mingyu shrunk back with a wince before you placed the silicone in his hand. “It doesn’t bite.”

He weighed it in his palm carefully before placing it on his bedside table. “Looks like a chicken breast.” Then, he looked back at your tits. Instead of bedroom eyes, there was genuine concern in his gaze. “It didn’t hurt when you ripped it off, right?”

You stifled a laugh. “No, it didn’t hurt. My boobs are all good.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast for good measure. He squeezed experimentally, but you were certain he was just still in shock over the nipple cover. This would normally be when you shrunk in on yourself, but Mingyu discovering the existence of pasties was far too entertaining for you to shy away.

“Good,” he said before he sighed, a little too dreamy to convince you that this was purely platonic. The lighthearted moment settled back into tension. Barely loud enough for you to hear, Mingyu murmured, “You’re so pretty like this.”

You wondered if your eyes were as big as they felt. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You don’t?” He frowned, as if he was offended that you weren’t seeing what he was. “I think you’re beautiful.”

He said it before, but you thought it was just a pet name because he was in the mood. Now that he was saying it so sincerely, looking at you like you were his entire world, you felt like you had turned into putty in his hold. Your nerves were practically on fire under your skin.

“You’re sure about this, right?” he asked again, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. When you nodded, he readjusted his position so that he was underneath you, moving your hips so that you were sitting on top of him. “Just let me know if you wanna stop.”

“It’s your first time, too,” you said softly, reaching out to trace his jawline. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting.” He smiled before pulling you down for another long kiss.

He kissed you for what seemed like ages, running his hands all over your body and teasing you with kisses to your neck and jawline when he pulled away. While he was getting a condom from his nightstand, you wondered how you could ever get enough of him if this was what sleeping with Kim Mingyu was like.

While you both were a mess of limbs, you managed to remove every article of clothing from each other until your bare bodies were pressed against each other. He tore the silver wrapping of the condom off to slide the lubricated rubber over his cock. Of course you had seen him naked before, but you still couldn’t get over how wonderfully sculpted his body was. He had to have been blessed by a Greek god.

Mingyu held you close to his chest, his eyes raking your body again and again until you felt weak in the knees. When he hovered over you, lining up his cock with your soaked cunt, you had to swallow down your anxiousness.

Questions billowed in your head, floating about until they turned into butterflies and flew straight to your gut. What if he didn’t fit? What if you couldn’t take all of him in? What if it hurt?

But Mingyu had always been so reliable, so comforting. You felt safe in his arms, even if you had been working yourself up over this very act for years. You wanted to be brave for him.

“Are you ready?” he asked once more—just to be safe because he was right there. This was your last chance to back out and he wanted to make sure you truly wanted this.

You nodded with firm self-assurance. “Yeah, I am.”

“Okay, bear with me here,” he replied, the tips of his ears going pink as he tried to laugh off his awkwardness. “I’ve never exactly done this before.”

You laughed. “Me neither. We can figure it out together.”

His lips tugged into a small smile. Mingyu leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he tried pushing his cock into you, guiding it with his entrance. It took him a few tries to work the head in without accidentally slipping out. The first stretch you felt wasn’t painful, but there was mild discomfort that you pushed down.

But then Mingyu couldn’t push into you any further. Your excitement fizzled and your emotions were swinging dangerously into a pit of worries.

Your best friend was a problem-solver, though. He hummed inquisitively before repositioning himself at your entrance.

“Wrap your legs around my hips,” he instructed. “I think that’ll be easier for you.”

You did as he said, tucking your legs around his hips and hooking your ankles together. Your arms hung loosely around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair and twirling them around your fingers. You bucked your hips up once to indicate you were ready, not realizing that it would make Mingyu grunt instead. You could feel your core pulsing from how badly you needed him.

After sucking in a shaky breath, Mingyu started pushing into you once more. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip inside, finally pushing the head of his cock past your folds. You cried out, tightening your grip on Mingyu as you adjusted to his size. You hadn’t even gotten his full cock in you yet.

Mingyu eased his way inside you for what seemed like ever. He didn’t care about how long he was taking or if he was getting impatient; he calmly took the time to work his cock into you. The long vein that ran down his length made you shudder as it brushed against your walls.

“That feel good?” he rasped, looking into your eyes for any signs of pain.

You nodded eagerly. “Y-yes! Please keep going.”

Your body was hot. Feverish. It felt like your pleasure was building up slowly—a dull ache at your core that grew as Mingyu pushed deeper inside you. He lowered his head to kiss your neck at the same time, nipping and sucking at your tender flesh while you moaned and writhed under him.

Finally—finally, finally, finally—Mingyu’s hips pressed flush against yours and you bit down on your lip to keep yourself from screaming out. The pain was sharp, almost dizzying, but after Mingyu held you and kissed you all over until you relaxed, you felt it subside slowly. He sighed happily, bucking into you slightly to feel how deep he was. You buried your face into his chest once you felt the room going a little fuzzy.

Aching, gnawing pain.

Deeper and deeper, but the pain built with each push into you. One certain thrust made you feel as though you hit a peak, but then you felt yourself coming down. You closed your eyes through it, taking deep breaths until the pain had mostly alleviated, a new feeling of pleasure rushing through your body.  

He didn’t say anything for a long while, just letting you take things at your own pace. It was only until you begged him to move that Mingyu complied and started moving his hips.

With an experimental, shallow thrust, you let out a whimper and let one of your legs unhook from the other, letting it lay on the bed instead. Mingyu held your other hip up and started thrusting slowly into you, making sure to keep his pace exact so that he didn’t slip out again. Your pleasure was building up fast, like a spell of vertigo that left your head spinning and your body flushed.

“F-feels so good, Gyu,” you cried out, and then you couldn’t say anything at all once his tongue pried its way into your mouth. His lips slotted against yours perfectly, like both of your lips had been specifically molded to fit each other’s.

He thrusted deeper. Some of his thrusts hit that golden spot inside you that made your world turn blinding white. You were dangerously close to an orgasm with how good he was making you feel.

Mingyu sped up his thrusts, holding your hips and dragging his lips across your skin to leave love bites along your collarbone and shoulders. With the way he shifted your hips to pound in at a better angle had your legs shaking and your eyes rolling back into your head. You were far too sensitive to last long, especially since this was your first time experiencing such pleasure.

Realizing that your muscles had started involuntarily twitching, Mingyu thrusted into you deeper and caged you in his grip. You were teetering on the precipice of a release, holding onto his strong arms for leverage—something to ground yourself while you about to dive into your own ecstasy.

The brute strength in his thrusts led you to falling over the edge, jolts of pleasure coursing through you as you chanted Mingyu’s name over and over again like a prayer. The force of your orgasm nearly knocked the wind out of you, making the world before you go blurry as Mingyu fucked you through your high.

You nearly didn’t register him moaning out, too, his lips framing your name as he came. It felt as if you had short-circuited, laying underneath him helplessly as you rode out your orgasm. The current tugged and swept you away, sending aftershocks of pleasure to your sore cunt.

You blinked twice to reorient yourself, coherence bleeding back into you. It was when Mingyu kissed your forehead that it finally clicked for you.

You finally lost your virginity.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your temple. “That was incredible.”

You nodded, dazed, about to thank him back before you noticed that something was running down your hip. You touched the liquid curiously, wondering if you had just been that overstimulated, but what you found on your fingertips was blood.

You shrieked.

“What happened?” he asked, eyes wide before he saw your hand. He chuckled lightly. “Oh, I see. This is normal after your first time; it’s no big deal.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

Mingyu didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, though; he was smiling delightedly while you were a panicked mess. Blood was gushing out of the very place Mingyu’s cock was buried, and you were humiliated because of your new position as Human Ketchup Bottle.

“Wow,” he cooed sarcastically, rubbing your hips gently, “it’s like you’re my personal little volcano.”

“Oh my god. Please shut the fuck up, Gyu.”

After helping clean you up and a few more sessions of you two gushing over how good your first time felt, you and Mingyu laid in bed together, side-by-side. He had gone on several tangents about how it was nice that you two didn’t feel awkward around each other and that he was almost worried because he heard a lot of horror stories about people’s first time.

Apparently, Vernon’s first time was quite unmemorable because it was a quickie in a hot tub. He had never considered the friction caused by the water being uncomfortable, so it wasn’t one for the books.

To your surprise, when Mingyu headed to the kitchen to get you some water, you felt strangely hollow. As your eyes grew unfocused, the ache from the penetration was more clear, and you started to feel a little empty.

No one ever talked about what happened after sex. No one ever talked about how, shortly following the aftermath of your first time when you were coming down from the dazzling glow of your orgasm, the only thing you could feel was overwhelming vulnerability.

It was like you had been flying up in the clouds, got too close to the sun, and dropped right into a void of sadness. You were bordering on a feeling of emptiness as you stared up at Mingyu’s popcorn ceiling.

Then, the bed dipped next to you. Mingyu came back with a glass of water for you and one of his sweaters—the black Ralph Lauren one his mom got him for his high school graduation. Yeah, he was definitely starting to outgrow it, but he kept it hung up in his closet, anyway. Something about it being sentimental to him.

“You good?” he asked in a gentle voice, setting the glass of water on the nightstand. He slid onto the mattress next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. “You look a little out of it.”

“I’m better now,” was all you said, smiling contently after placing your arm on top of his.

“Did something happen? Did I do something?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Mingyu how you were feeling; you just didn’t know how to. There was nothing he had done to upset you at all, and the night had been incredible. You were still over-the-moon from losing your virginity to your best friend. That was why the wave of sadness that hit you afterward was strange and foreign.

“No, no, it’s just…” You sighed. “I just felt really sad for a few seconds. Like, don’t get me wrong, that was the best feeling ever, but after you went to go get water and stuff, I just got really sad.”

Something flashed across Mingyu’s face. It was the look he always wore when he was correcting someone or explaining some nerdy bit of information he knew. You were anticipating him to go on some tangent about heightened emotions peaking during sex would lead to a crash—something along those lines.

But then, he simmered. His expression was immediately replaced with understanding as he squeezed you tighter. Mingyu must have known that you just wanted to be comforted, not talked to, so he just tucked his head into the crook of your neck.

You felt warmer. Safer.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked.

You sucked in a breath. “Much better.”

Somewhere between your mumbles and whispers of conversation, you and Mingyu ended up drifting asleep in each other’s arms.

It was around twilight when you woke up, dusky purple streaming through the windows and across Mingyu’s peaceful face as he was deep in slumber. You turned your gaze back up, staring at the chipped paint and grooves in the popcorn ceiling, feeling as if you were drowning in your own emotions.

The feeling settled in your chest. It was always there, like a dull ache, but now it was loud. Pounding.

You were in love with Kim Mingyu.

You ran into Ryujin later—much later. It was well after you went back to your apartment and had a meltdown over your newly-recognized feelings for your best friend.

After you talked yourself through your feelings for nearly an hour, you realized that you couldn’t handle this problem head-on. You needed the assistance of your favorite cookies and cream ice cream from Ben and Jerry’s, so you walked to the nearby grocery store in sweatpants and a jacket.

While you were trying to balance three tubs of ice cream in your arms, Ryujin happened to wander into the freezer section, looking mildly concerned at the sight of you. She was pushing a cart full of groceries with her glasses sitting low on her nose.

“Need any help there?” she asked, moving aside her bag of cilantro to make space for your ice cream.

“You were right,” you admitted, and you nearly sounded hysterical with how breathless and frazzled you were. “I’m in love with him.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“That explains the ice cream.”

“Totally overshot the much simpler feeling of just liking someone, or being attracted to someone,” you rambled, allowing her to take the tubs of ice cream from your hands. “It couldn’t even just be a silly little crush, either. I’m just… in love with him.”

“So, what’re you gonna do now?”

You paused. “Would it be reasonable for me to think about it after I see him again?”

“Reasonable? Absolutely not. Stupid? Probably.”

“Well, that’s what college is for, anyway.”

“I support you,” she started, “even if I think you’re a dumb bitch.”

“Thanks, Ryujin, I think.”

The golden rule about being in your twenties was that it was the prime time to be young, dumb, and make stupid decisions.

The stupid decision you settled on for today was inviting Mingyu over when you really should have been taking some time to figure out your feelings for him. You knew very well that this would fuck with your emotions, but you had to give in to your carnal desires. Now that Mingyu had relinquished you of your virgin title, you couldn’t get enough.

You had always wondered what it would be like when you finally lost your virginity. Part of you thought it would be some sort of final form that you would achieve, but it wasn’t exactly all that different. Society overvalued deflowerment, you figured, but there was something that rang true.

Your face glowed a little brighter. Whether that was because of your recent confidence boost or your post-sex elation, you weren’t sure.

But now, you were in a predicament: you wanted more. Naturally, that led you to calling Mingyu and subtly asking if he wanted to come over.

That was how you ended up with your chest pressed against the wall while Mingyu’s body was caging yours. His strong chest was against your sweat-beaded back, and you swore you could feel every muscle of his keeping you from budging. It took him a few valiant efforts to fit his cock inside of you, and you had to reposition yourself several times for him to find a good angle. Once he had slid into you with ease, though, he started thrusting into you with vigor, soft grunts falling from his perfect lips.

(You realized Mingyu wasn’t able to get enough of you, too. He walked in, exchanged a greeting and gave you an update on Wonwoo’s crabs before his rough hands were turning you around and holding you against the wall. While his lips worked on your neck, you managed to sputter out some nonsense about being happy for Wonwoo’s new crab, Clawmander.)

“You’re wet,” he observed, his tone frank and even.

“Excellent observation, Sherlock Holmes.” You managed to gasp out the words before Mingyu’s cock hit that perfect spot inside you that made your vision curl with darkness at the ends.

“Jesus,” he hissed, lips brushing against your left ear. You let out a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a moan while he used his free hand to rub your clit in torturous circles. “I didn’t think you’d get this worked up over me.”

You didn’t answer him. This wasn’t the right time or place for him to hear the true reason. Plus, you could hardly string any words together when he was making you feel so good.

“Don’t cum just yet,” he muttered, and you whined when his cock slid out of you. When you turned around to ask him what his deal was, Mingyu lifted you up effortlessly and carried you to your couch. He had you straddling him while his hands rested on your thighs. “I want you to ride me, beautiful.”

Intimidation settled in. Mingyu could see it in your eyes—the way they refocused and your gaze flitted around hesitantly.

And, because Mingyu was just a tenderhearted, loveable ray of sunshine, he added gently, “If you want to, of course.”

Your eyes went lust-lidded as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You just wanted to make him proud.

“Sit back,” you told him, and you lifted your hips so that you could sink down on his throbbing cock.

Mingyu sucked in a sharp breath, holding your hip with one hand and helping adjust his length with the other. You winced, still not used to the penetration, but the initial pain was less sharp than it was the first couple times. Once you felt the mild discomfort replaced with the hot pleasure you were chasing just minutes before, Mingyu helped you start moving your hips up and down on him. He let go of your hips to throw his head back and run his hands down his face, agonized that he couldn’t fuck into you himself.

You placed one hand on his chest and let your body hover over his as you fucked yourself on his cock. Then, Mingyu decided to pull you flush to his body and buck his hips up on his own. You cried out from feeling him deeper inside you, but then you were moaning into the curve of his neck.

“You feel so good around me,” he whispered into your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

You pulled back, still bouncing on his dick with spurts of clarity returning to you. You were still dazed from how good he felt inside you, but Mingyu’s words were trying to reel you back into proper coherence.

“H-how long?” you stuttered out.

Mingyu smirked up at you, but before the fluttery feeling returned to your chest, you were paralyzed with fear when you heard a loud knock followed by the door handle turning. Your oncoming orgasm came to a halt and dissipated immediately after.

You and Mingyu repelled like magnets; you winced as he practically manhandled you off his lap and scrambled away, so you pushed him off the couch as payback. You only had time to pull your blanket up to cover your bare chest before Soonyoung appeared in the doorway. Mingyu, butt naked, was perfectly facing the front door, and he could only cover his crotch with both hands in time.

Cue Soonyoung screaming, then Mingyu, then you.

For a few seconds, it was a perfect choir of discordant screeching.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” you yelled as Mingyu tried to duck out of the way. He eventually realized there was no immediate escape and just turned around, making Soonyoung sigh heavily and cover his eyes with his sleeve when he saw Mingyu’s ass on full display.

“Well, my… my Connect Fours—”

“You could’ve knocked!”

“You told me I could come over and pick them up!”

“You still could’ve knocked!”

“Don’t blame me; I am the victim here! Normally, you’re in here watching a rerun of Jersey Shore, so I wasn’t exactly thinking, ‘Oh, what if Y/N’s actually getting dicked down by Mingyu right now?’ No! Because no one tells me what’s going on anymore!” Soonyoung argued. “I just came here to get my Connect Fours, not for front row seats to the Magic Mingyu show!”

“I’m sorry.” You sent Mingyu an uneasy look, and then you grew more concerned as you watched him manage to awkwardly wrap most of his body with the white drapes at your windows. You turned back to Soonyoung. “You didn’t see too much, did you?”

“I just saw Mingyu’s asscheeks on full display!”

Mingyu pouted, taking great offense to Soonyoung’s panic. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Okay, I’d rather see your asscheeks, like, on purpose,” he replied, exasperated, “not like this! My eyes feel violated.”

“Soonyoung,” you whispered harshly, and, if looks could kill, you were sure your friend would be six feet under. You waved your hand, motioning for him to leave as the situation was becoming increasingly awkward. “I’ve only got ten of the boxes so far. I’ll text you when the rest come.”

“Right, right,” he mumbled, turning to grab the large package at your entryway. “I’ll just take this and go, then. Let me know when the rest come.”

You sighed. “Yeah, of course.”

“By the way, how big is Mingyu’s dick? He won’t tell us how—”

Mingyu, who looked horrified at this point, raised his voice so high that you nearly burst out laughing from how squeaky it sounded. “Can you leave already?!”

“Before I go,” he said, “I’ll see you guys at Kap Sig for the Beerlympics tomorrow, right?” After he was met by two piercing glares, your friend realized that this was probably not the time nor place for this conversation. “Sorry! Just text me if you decide to show up!”

Soonyoung closed the door behind him loudly to make it known that he had left, and you and Mingyu relaxed once he was finally gone.

“I’m gonna lock your door,” Mingyu started, all huffy and flushed with embarrassment, “and then we can get back to what we were doing.” While he was making sure your lock was secure and walked back, he kept lecturing, “You know, you should really keep your door locked all the time. You never know what’s going to happen.”

You heard him loud and clear, but your mind was still buzzing with questions from what he said before you two were walked in on. All you wanted to know was how long he had been waiting to sleep with you, and you were so curious that you weren’t even feeling humiliated anymore over Soonyoung nearly seeing you naked.

“How long have you been waiting?” you asked. When Mingyu only gave you a confused look, you clarified, “You said it earlier while I was on top of you.”

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck before his lips stretched into a smile. “How about this: I’ll tell you when you come to see my work in the gallery.”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Fine, but I was gonna show up either way.”

“See, that’s what I like about you.” You were too busy blushing to notice that Mingyu had already made his way between your legs and was hovering over you. He peeled the blanket off from your body and put it over the head of your couch. Tapping your knee, he said, “Now, open up, beautiful. Since you were doing so good for me, I’ll make it up to you.”

It was the next day around noon, and the remaining ten boxes of Connect Fours arrived at your door in another giant package. You texted Soonyoung that he could come pick them up (and wait for you to open the door).

You still hadn’t cleared things up from yesterday when he walked in on you and Mingyu, so you weren’t sure how to look him in the eye without feeling absolute shame. Not only that, but the guilt from your lie had been swirling in your chest constantly now that you were hit with the reality that Soonyoung had already perceived your strange friends with benefits relationship with Mingyu.

After you spent practically the entire day with Mingyu yesterday, even driving him to 7-Eleven for munchies at 3 a.m., you ended up getting the green light from him to tell Soonyoung everything. He knew that the guilt was weighing on your chest, and you both concurred that you would feel much better after coming clean.

After all, Soonyoung was one of your best friends, and you didn’t want him to keep deceiving him, no matter how big or insignificant your lie was to him.

When Soonyoung arrived at your door, making sure to knock three times, he greeted you with his usual cheery smile.

“Hey,” he said with an awkward edge to his voice. “Proud of me? I knocked this time.”

You went over this conversation about a million times in your head, thinking of different possible scenarios and outcomes that could happen. For each one, though, there was no eloquent way to bring up your lie without you sounding like you were overcompensating by rambling.

Just rip the bandage off, you told yourself.

It was hard to find the words, though, and your brain couldn’t figure out how to smoothly deliver the news.

Soonyoung looked like he didn’t know what to do, considering you had been staring blankly at him for several seconds without saying anything. “Is this a bad time?” he asked after a pause.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I have something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

You gestured for him to come inside, and Soonyoung took off his shoes before walking into your apartment. You felt yourself flush when he intentionally avoided sitting on your couch and just stood between your hallway and living room.

Soonyoung liked to joke around most of the time, but even he could tell that you were trying to bring up something serious. His arms were folded across his chest, the bewilderment in his eyes coalescing into sympathy. You intended for this to be honest, clear communication, but your breath was getting short and your eyes were darting to your feet before you could even get the words out.

This was deeper than your lie. You could admit that you were a liar, but something inside you withered at the very thought of admitting that there was something going on between you and Mingyu. Something that crossed the line of platonic friendship but kept its distance from romance.

So, before anything else, you blurted out, “I lied about being a virgin. Mingyu and I didn’t have sex.”

Your voice was thick with emotion. For a moment, your friend just stared at you, unblinking.

“Huh?” He sounded utterly confused as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to make things awkward and bring it up, but didn’t I walk in on you and Mingyu yesterday?”

“No, I’m talking about the time I told you I had sex with Mingyu.”

“In the library?”

“Yes.”

“So you guys didn’t have sex?”

“Well, technically we did, but—”

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Soonyoung said, pausing before he continued, “so, you’re a virgin?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I was a virgin, but now I’m not. The timeline got fucked.”

“Wait, so, you were a virgin when you told me you weren’t a virgin,” he recounted, to which you nodded in response, and you could tell a few of the pieces in his head fit together when he finished, “and then you lost your virginity.” You nodded again to affirm his statement and your friend let a low-pitched whistle slip. “Wow, that is some crazy lore.”

Fiddling with your fingers, you asked, “Are you mad that I lied to you guys?”

“Mad? No way,” he said. “Like, sure, I don’t really understand why you lied. I guess you had your own reasons. It’s not like it’s a bad thing to be a virgin. There’s no way I’d be mad over something like that, though.”

“I was worried because I thought you hated liars,” you explained, and although you didn’t mention his ex-girlfriend, it seemed as though Soonyoung knew exactly what you were talking about.

“I care about lies that hurt, and, hey, you told me eventually,” he said. “I’m not gonna hold it against you for not telling me about something you weren’t ready to share.”

He worried at his lower lip before adding, “You didn’t lose it to Mingyu because of what I said, right?”

You felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, and your breathing steadied. You didn’t even realize how fast your heart was beating until you could feel every muscle in your body relax.

“No, of course not.” You finally cracked a smile. “To be honest, when you guys grilled us about it in the library, it did set things in motion. I don’t regret any of it, though—except lying to you guys about it. I’ve been wanting it to happen for a while now.”

“Good. You should probably tell the others when you’re ready, too.” He gave you a warm smile before amusement seeped back into his eyes. He turned to pick up the large package of Connect Fours and said, “Congrats to you and Mingyu, by the way. I always knew you two would get together.”

You nearly got whiplash from how fast you turned your neck. “Soonyoung—what?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s been crazy for you ever since freshman year. I figured he would eventually grow a pair and ask you out,” he elaborated. Once Soonyoung hoisted the box up and turned around to look at you, he froze when he saw the dumbfounded look on your face. “Oh, shit. You’re not dating him, are you?”

“No, Soonyoung. No, I’m not.”

“Oh… my bad.”

Around twenty minutes after Soonyoung’s slip-up, you decided you would go with him to Kappa Sigma’s “Beerlympics,” which you hadn’t exactly been banking on showing up to. When you were informed about it yesterday, you had to research online to make sure that no, Soonyoung wasn’t speaking some alien language.

You never really understood half the things Soonyoung and Jungwoo talked about in relation to their fraternity. It usually went in one ear and out the other. It was always something about chapter meetings, pledges, and the sort of nonsense that made you wonder if you two were even living in the same world.

Before you decided to go, Soonyoung had to guide you to the couch to sit down and process your thoughts, which you figured was a great feat for him considering he was still traumatized from walking in on you and Mingyu.

Even after you stared blankly at the wall, though, you still couldn’t fathom the thought of Kim Mingyu liking you all these years. And, you didn’t outwardly admit it to Soonyoung, but the thought of your best friend liking you back made you inexplicably happy.

After you quickly changed into more appropriate clothing, Soonyoung and you walked over to frat row, passing by several large fraternity houses before arriving at the male-infested Beerlympics event. Your friend was still carrying his box of Connect Fours, which kept rattling as you two walked.

Yesterday, you were considering not going, mostly because you committed to going to Mingyu’s exhibition today, too. He had texted you the details, informing you that it would be early in the evening, so you weren’t going to spend longer than a few hours at Kappa Sigma.

Plus, now that Soonyoung had accidentally revealed the feelings Mingyu was harboring for you, confessing to him was weighing heavy on your mind. You desperately needed to tell your friends about your feelings before you ended up self-combusting.

In a matter of minutes, you were sitting between Vernon and Jungwoo on the couch, watching Minghao and Soonyoung shotgun a Coors Light. The box of Connect Fours was currently being used as a drink stand.

“You just came back from Vegas,” you told them, “and you’re already hosting a Beerlympics?”

“What did you expect us to do? We only drank hard alcohol in Vegas,” Jungwoo explained. “It’s only right that we come back and drink beer.”

You rolled your eyes, incredulous. “You guys can’t be serious.”

“By the way,” Vernon started, “is Mingyu coming? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“You went to the gym with him yesterday,” Minghao pointed out.

“And that was in the past.”

Soonyoung cleared his throat once he was done with his beer. “Speaking of Mingyu… Y/N has something to tell you guys.”

“Right.” You cleared your throat before announcing, “I’ve gathered you all here today because someone said something he wasn’t supposed to.”

“And that someone was me,” Soonyoung mumbled, dejected.

“Wait,” Jungwoo interrupted, “we need context.”

Although you talked to Minghao before about the pact between you and Mingyu, you still hadn’t explained the whole ordeal to Vernon, Jungwoo, and Soonyoung. As you rambled on about how Mingyu proposed the idea and you two started becoming friends with benefits, Soonyoung’s face fell more and more as he realized he had royally fucked up. Vernon, on the other hand, despite having been kept in the dark this entire time, kept a placid expression on his face while the other three boys lost their shit.

You went on to explain the whiteboard, the notebook, how scared you were about ruining your friendship with Mingyu, and how Soonyoung walked in on you two and accidentally revealed that Mingyu had been crushing on you for a while.

“There’s no way you actually wrote all that down on a whiteboard,” Soonyoung said with an incredulous laugh. When Minghao pointed out that your whiteboard (that you still hadn’t returned to the community room) was literally in the living room, your friend cried, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that!”

“Yeah, it was front and center when you walked in on Mingyu and I,” you said.

“To be fair, Mingyu’s ass was very distracting.”

You folded your arms across your chest, staring the four boys down. “Okay, well, that’s my side of what happened. It’s your turn to spill what you know.”

They all looked at each other warily before Vernon decided to break it down for you. He explained how Mingyu had been crushing on you ever since you two were in the same orientation group, and your breath caught in your throat because that was exactly when you also found him cute. Apparently, since you had become good friends with Soonyoung and Minghao shortly after (and later, their respective roommates: Jungwoo and Vernon), Mingyu didn’t try to read into your closeness too much.

All of the pieces were connecting in your head—all of the little moments and things he said that you brushed off as a coincidence. Every realization was like a firefly in your head, flickering and blinking under dim light until it shone bright and clear in total darkness.

Every time he called you beautiful. Every time he kissed you. Every time he looked at you like you were all he wanted.

Mingyu saying he wanted his first time to be with someone special wasn’t just a previous notion of his that he discarded once you two made the pact. You were the someone special he wanted to be with.

And god, if only he knew how badly you wanted to be with him right now.

“Alright, Y/N, do not tell Mingyu about any of this,” Soonyoung warned. “I’ve survived Jungwoo’s stupid ‘ecstasy water’—fuck you for that health violation of a drink, by the way—and I’m not letting Kim Mingyu be the reason why I end up six feet under.”

“I’m gonna have to tell him I found out from you, Soonyoung,” you argued. “There would literally be no other way for me to find out if it wasn’t from one of you guys.”

Vernon was quiet before he suggested, “What if we throw Jungwoo under the bus?”

“Yo, that’s hella smart,” Soonyoung praised before giving Vernon a high-five.

“I would prefer not to be thrown under the bus, thank you,” Jungwoo deadpanned.

“We are not throwing Jungwoo under the bus,” you agreed. “Besides, there’s been something that I’ve been thinking about for a while, too.” You paused to pour a shot for yourself, downing the contents of your red solo cup in one go. Wringing your hands together, you confessed, “I think I like Mingyu.”

“Oh, wow.” Jungwoo nearly choked over his words and held out his cup to you. “Pour me a shot, too. I’m gonna need it.”

Minghao decided to take over, asking, “As a person?”

“As a… man.”

“Well, men are people—sometimes.”

You groaned, unlacing your fingers to drop your face into your hands. You couldn’t believe you were saying this at the Kappa Sigma house, of all places.

“I—well, yeah, obviously. I just… okay, the point is, I sort of realized I really like him, and I was scared because I don’t know how this is gonna affect the group dynamic.” You felt your face growing hot as you talked about it, but you continued, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but what you guys just told me changes things, I think. I feel like I really need to tell him how I feel, if that’s okay with you guys.”

(You took another shot.)

You had never said the words out loud—not even to yourself. Your emotions felt more real now that they were out in the open for your friends to hear. Amidst all the booming music and drunken shouts in the house, your friends were silent.

“Why’re you asking us for permission?” Jungwoo finally spoke up. “We aren’t gonna be dicks and say you shouldn’t ask him out just so we can keep our friend group as it is. Just ask him out.”

(Another shot.)

“What he said,” Vernon agreed. “If Mingyu’s crush on you didn’t affect our friendship for four years and your crush on him didn’t make things weird, then I don’t see why you have to hide how you feel.”

(You gulped down your fourth shot.)

By the time Minghao started harping on about how you should be following your heart, you were starting to feel the alcohol settle. It ran through your veins, thick like molasses, until you felt sluggish. Then, spurred by your determination to confess your feelings, you rose up to your feet.

“I’m gonna do it,” you breathed out.

“When?” Soonyoung asked.

“Now.” You stopped to gather your belongings—your phone from the Connect Four box and your bag from the couch. “I’m gonna go see him.”

“Let’s call you an Uber,” Jungwoo said, and when he realized he was probably the most sober out of his friends, he dragged himself off the couch. Apparently, he was drinking in moderation after nearly getting alcohol poisoning in Vegas and dealing with a nasty hangover. “Okay, I’ll call you an Uber.”

Jungwoo walked you outside, waiting with you on the sidewalk until your Uber arrived. He recounted some of the highlights of his weekend in Vegas to you, and you listened intently even though you could feel your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You weren’t sure if it was because you were intoxicated or your nerves over potentially confessing your feelings to Mingyu.

When your Uber pulled into the driveway—a white SUV that was large enough for you to assume that Jungwoo accidentally booked an Uber XL.

As you were getting into the passenger’s seat, Jungwoo held the door open long enough to tell you, “Hey, I’ll let you in on a little secret: Mingyu never really cared for watching movies until he met you.”

While your Uber driver took you to your destination in silence, you were certain your heart was glowing brighter than any sunset out there.

The gallery was empty when you arrived—eerily quiet. A long, white table sat at the foyer where the front desk was. Plates of what you suspected had cookies on them were left littered with crumbs. The gallery assistant seated at the front desk must have been a student working part-time because her nose was buried in a textbook, hardly noticing you walking inside the building.

Your buzz was wearing off by now and your stomach had dropped in a deep pit when you realized that you were late. You swore you had timed it right. Mingyu told you to be there at 5 p.m., and yes, you were twenty minutes late, but you didn’t expect the whole venue to be cleared out.

Maybe everyone else was just late. That had to be it, right?

When you tried to look up Mingyu’s location on Find My Friends, he was miles away and looked as if he was on a trail.

You decided to call him, wondering why he hadn’t texted you yet. You were too disoriented in the car to give him a heads up, but he would normally text you, anyway.

After three rings, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Mingyu!” you cried in a hushed voice. “Am I late? Did you leave already? I can’t see anyone here.”

“Where?” he asked. “Uh, if you’re talking about Beerlympics, I didn’t go because I had a project due tonight.”

“No, the gallery. You said it started at five, right?”

Mingyu was silent for what seemed like forever before he stifled a laugh. “You mean the gallery opening tomorrow night?”

You had never sobered up so quickly.

While Mingyu was laughing at you on the other end of the line, you were pulling up your text messages to confirm that he had given you the wrong details. Instead, you were met with the horrifying realization that you just read the invite wrong.

“I mean, you can still see my work while you’re there,” he continued. “I think they’ve already switched out their old art.”

You groaned. “I’m so stupid.”

You roamed around the gallery as Mingyu told you about his day, looking at all of the art pieces that were submitted. After you took some pictures of various paintings and sculptures that were on display, your eyes fell upon a sunset photograph hung up on the wall.

The very photograph you came here for.

You had seen gorgeous sunsets before, but you had never seen pictures that did them any justice. What Mingyu had captured, though, was absolutely breathtaking.

Over the foliage, the sky was a wonderful blend of oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples. The great ball of light dipped below the horizon, peeking out just enough to see its wonderful color. The rays of sunlight reached out past the frame, illuminating the treetops and the current of water that ran to the side.

To the right, you saw Mingyu’s placard fixed to the wall, hanging proud next to its photograph.

Kim Mingyu You’re My Sunset 2023 The sun’s last kiss to the sky. If there’s a world where I can watch sunsets forever, I hope she’s there with me.

“—so I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get a C on the quiz because he made us write out our code on paper. My handwriting is dogshit, so I hope he has a fun time reading mine.” He trailed off when he realized you went silent on the other end. “Y/N?”

“Where are you?” you asked, a touch distracted as your eyes drank in the words etched onto the placard.

“Huh? I’m on that hiking trail near the freshman dorms,” he said. “I was gonna go watch the sunset, if you wanted to come see it with me.”

And because you were so helplessly in love with him, it was easier than breathing to say, “I’d love to watch the sunset with you.”

It took you one more Uber and forty minutes to find Mingyu where he was waiting for you. You told him not to walk all the way back down to meet you, so you made your journey to the top on your own. You were definitely not dressed for a hike, but sunset was coming soon and you didn’t have time to stop at your apartment to change.

You waved once you saw him, biting back your smile because you didn’t want to look overly-excited to see him. He had probably been outside for a while, judging by the sheen of sweat that made his biceps glisten under the setting sun.

“You made it just in time,” he said. “Sunset’s in a few.”

Your chest heaved as you recovered from your hike up. It had been ages since you worked out properly, so part of you was glad that you didn’t let Mingyu go back down and fetch you. You surely would have had to make him stop several times for you to take a breather.

He was sitting on a large, flat rock—so smooth that it was probably the perfect spot on the entire mountain to watch a sunset. Mingyu scooted over so that you had room and you sat down right next to him, knees knocking and shoulders brushing against his.

You had never seen anything as formidably beautiful as the view before you. The sun had started to dip below the horizon, glowing a spectacular orange. Muted colors of blue and gray vanished like a skip, blurring into colors more intense, more breathtaking. Oranges and yellows blend into the canvas of the sky, soon blending with pink and red hues that made the clouds look like the seventh heaven.

It felt like the sun was setting, calling the stars out just for you two. It cast its rays onto the lake below, leaving the surface glittering with millions of golden sparkles.

This was the sight that reminded Mingyu of you.

For a while, you two just watched the sky wordlessly until you started, “I saw your—”

“What if we watched the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe for our next marathon?” he asked at the same time, but his words were stronger—more purposeful—so you answered him instead.

“We still haven’t finished our Barbie marathon,” you said. “We’re still on Barbie and the Diamond Castle.”

“But… when we finish.”

You hummed. “How long does it take to finish all of the Marvel movies?”

You tried to mentally note down all of the titles you knew with the limited knowledge you had of the Marvel cinematography. You were pretty sure you watched a good amount of them—the big ones that broke records in theaters—but you never tried watching them in order.

“Seventy hours and forty-six minutes. I checked.”

“We’d be marathoning forever.”

He smiled. “It wouldn't be the end of the world if we marathoned forever.”

You laughed, loud and clear. It was almost ridiculous to think of you and Mingyu in your fifties, sitting on a couch and watching yet another movie marathon in the measly hours of free time you had between work and other responsibilities.

And then it hit you. Your heart jumped to your throat.

You and Mingyu, doing the same things you did now in your fifties. You and Mingyu, sitting on a couch and watching another marathon together. You and Mingyu, swamped with work and responsibilities but still spending time with each other amidst all that.

You and Mingyu.

Your lungs were trees and there was a forest fire. It tore its way through each leaf, each branch, and it felt like that fire would burn forever. Burn until the sky had no sun and the world was in ruins. You couldn’t think straight as your heart raced and your breath got caught in your throat.

“Forever?” you asked in a small voice.

Mingyu’s eyes softened, more sincere and longing in them. At this point, he had gone pink beneath his golden skin. He moved his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, but all you could focus on was how the last rays of the evening shone on your best friend’s face. He was painted with sunset.

“Yeah, forever,” he confirmed. “I guess this is my way of confessing, so… Y/N, my forever marathoner, my sunset, will you go out with me?”

You were choked up at what felt like the worst possible time to be malfunctioning. “Sunset—”

“You saw it, right? The dedication next to my sunset picture?” he asked. “You finally realized that I’ve been in love with you for the past four years?”

He said the words so casually, as if he was telling you the color of the sky. But you could feel the weight settle in—the years of longing and pining.

This time, instead of just craning your neck, you turned your whole body to face him. The way he looked at you sent butterflies to your stomach, but your eyebrows pulled into a frown. You were sure that you couldn’t have possibly let it slip to him that Soonyoung told you everything.

“How did you… how did you know?”

He grinned, leaning back a little on his hands. “Before you got here, Soonyoung drunk FaceTimed me and started apologizing for exposing my four-year crush on you. He also apologized for assuming that I had the balls to ask you out.”

You scoffed a little, recalling how Soonyoung was practically begging you not to tell Mingyu yourself. It only made sense that he would be the one to fess up after all that alcohol got into his system. You made a mental note to call him out on this very moment the next time you saw him.

“Things get messy when someone likes someone else in the friend group, you know?” he continued, looking over the cliffside for a moment before turning back to you. “But, with you, I don’t think I mind things getting a little messy.”

“Do you remember when Jungwoo told you I found you cute, and I told him I really said something else?” he went on, turning his head away this time. He sounded more shy when he admitted, “Beautiful. I called you beautiful.”

“I just…” You faltered, trying to work up the courage to look him in the eye. When you did, the melted amber swirling in his eyes nearly made you stammer. “I didn’t expect any of this.”

Mingyu must have mistook your nerves for hesitation because he immediately said, “It’s all good, Y/N. I just wanted to come clean to you. You don’t have to answer—”

“No, Mingyu,” you cut him off, breathing out the words with an edge of desperation, “I didn’t expect this because I came here to ask you out.”

It was his turn to be shell-shocked. Mingyu’s pink lips parted in surprise, mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something, but he clearly hadn’t even thought of this outcome. You watched his Adam’s apple bob nervously.

He looked at your lips, then your eyes, then your lips again. He lifted his hand to touch your cheek, fingers spreading so that he could cradle your jaw. He looked transfixed, looking at you like you were far more captivating than the sunset that was playing out for you two. His eyes fluttered shut once he closed the distance and his lips met yours.

If you were his sunset, Mingyu was your sunrise. Every time he kissed or touched you, you felt warmth spread through your whole body, making you beam brighter than any star in the galaxy.

He pulled back, but he was still so close that his nose was touching yours, both of your ragged, uneven breaths mixing in the tight space between you two. He held the back of your head and pressed your foreheads together, a gesture of his that always made you feel like you were soaring.

Your voice failed you as Mingyu’s calloused hands bunched up the fabric of your shirt to glide down your back, tracing the bumps down your spine and gripping tighter once he reached your hips. It was like he was charting a map of your body, taking note of every little curve and dip he came across.

“W-we’re outside,” you stuttered out.

“No one’s gonna catch us. I wanna show you how I feel every time I look at you,” he murmured in a low voice that only you could hear. “Lay down for me, Y/N. I want you to watch the last of the sunset while I show you how much I love you.”

You didn’t reply, mostly because you wanted to let your actions speak for you. You pulled him in for a short, chaste kiss before you scooted up on the rock and laid down for him. The solid surface was uncomfortable at first, but then Mingyu had you get up for a moment so that he could spread his jacket out for you. You laid back down and looked up, gasping when you realized you had a perfect view of the setting sun.

Mingyu tugged down your shorts and underwear, making sure to carefully fold them and set them aside instead of just discarding them somewhere. Now that you could feel the coolness against your bare skin, you were grateful that his jacket was under you. He pulled his sweatpants down past his hips and hovered over you, eyes flickering up to meet yours. They were hazy, swimming with lust, but you could see his sincere adoration, too. He refused to kiss you because he didn’t want to obstruct your view of the sunset.

“Are you ready?” he asked, lifting his middle and ring finger to his lips and licking them for extra lubrication.

You sucked in a sharp breath at that. “Please—yes.”

Slowly, Mingyu pushed his fingers inside of you, watching you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut with an amused half-smile. His thumb worked slow circles on your clit while his fingers were nestled in you.

“Open your eyes, beautiful,” he instructed. “You’re gonna miss the sunset.”

Finding a steady pace was no problem for Mingyu at all. He watched you squirm and moan underneath him as his fingers slid in and out of your cunt. His knuckles were glistening with your arousal, and Mingyu stared at where they disappeared inside you with unfocused eyes. He curled his fingers inside you ever-so-slightly, passing over your g-spot, and you arched your back at the feeling.  

His name stuttered past your lips, coming out so raw and passionate that all the blood rushed to Mingyu’s cock. His boxers were tented, and you were once again intimidated by how huge he was. His bulge brushed against your thigh as he plunged his fingers into you.

You felt limp under his touch, but just when you felt prickles of heat under your skin, Mingyu’s fingers slid out of you. You nearly cried out over his false promise of a release as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

“The sky,” he whispered. Like it was instinct, he licked his fingers clean without batting an eye. An embarrassed rush of heat sank into your cheeks. “I need to be inside you for the rest of the sunset. Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely. “That’s okay. You can just pull out.” You looked straight into his eyes and said, “I trust you, Gyu.”

“Go raw? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we can just get Plan B tomorrow, if anything.”

Kim Mingyu looked like he could die a happy man then and there.

He tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring up and slap the underside of his belly. It was already huge and flushed with beads of precum collecting at his slit. Mingyu shuddered almost immediately when the cool air hit him.

He spread your legs with his large hands, and you swallowed thickly before Mingyu started rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He made sure to smear the arousal between your legs to your clit. The last rays of the sun shone on his face, and you could see the glint of hunger in his eyes.

At this point, you were nearly begging for him, so Mingyu started pushing into you carefully. His brows were pinched and his bottom lip was sucked into his teeth while he worked his way into you, his eyes glinting with utter focus.

It was so different without the condom. Intense. Hot. The drag of his cock inside you made you falter, absolutely loving the new friction and texture you were feeling.

You swallowed down your gasp with a shuddering breath. Your tight expression slowly relaxed as Mingyu’s cock worked its way inside you. Every time you wanted to close your eyes, you snapped them back open to catch a glimpse of the blurry hues above.

“That’s it,” he cooed, the praise only turning you on more. “You feel so good.”

He started circling your clit with his thumb again, getting your walls to relax so that you immediately took more of him in. Mingyu’s cock twitched inside of you, causing that one muscle in your leg to twitch. You weren’t sure how long you were going to be able to last if he kept teasing you like this.

When his head dipped into your opening, you sucked in a breath, but he did not enter just yet. Your hips bucked up against his, and Mingyu held them down so that he could position himself without slipping out of you. A sound that was between a deep chuckle and a grunt rumbled in his chest at your eagerness.

With little preamble, Mingyu started pushing deeper into you, letting himself sink while his breathing grew short. His cock brushed sensitive spots inside you that left your toes curling and your vision going blotchy. You watched the sky grow darker and darker, vibrant orange colors blending into deep reds.

A debauched moan bubbled past your lips once Mingyu started fucking into you slowly. Each roll of his hips brought a blinding wave of pleasure that left behind a sheen of sweat coating your body. The initial sting of penetration dissolved quickly into pleasure.

You dragged your nails down his well-defined back muscles, sighing blissfully with each thrust of Mingyu’s hips. His back muscles flexed underneath your hand as his cock worked in and out of you. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck and moaned along with you, and the look in his eyes told you that all he wanted to do was kiss you, but he was adamant on making you see the sun.

“Oh my god!” you cried out once Mingyu used his free hand to lift your leg over his hip, getting a better angle so that he could plunge into you. Blinking away tears, you were nearly sobbing when you said, “I… I didn’t say it back, Gyu. I love you, too. God, I’ve loved you back for so long, too.”

All the lust in Mingyu’s gaze had melted away, being replaced by the most loving gaze you had seen in his shining eyes. He leaned down to kiss you slow—a completely different pace from how he had been fucking you. When he pulled away, he kept his lips at the shell of your ear, whispering sweet nothings.

With his hips snapping into you at a near-animalistic pace, you were quickly reaching your peak. Mingyu seemed to take notice and rubbed your clit faster to catch you up to speed. Heat spread under your skin, making each nerve ending feel like it was on fire.

“There,” he gasped out after he turned his gaze up for a moment. “Do you see it? The sun kissing the sky?”

He had been waiting so long for you, pining so hard, that when your orgasm ripped through you, Mingyu came almost immediately after. He groaned before pulling out of you, his strained expression melting quickly into bliss once his release came. It seemed as though Mingyu didn’t want to get you dirty, so he shot his load to the side where he could hide it easily.

You looked up, and you finally saw how devastatingly beautiful the sunset was with its palette of colors exploding across the sky.

Reds. Oranges. Dying glimpses of yellows. You felt like you were experiencing a sensory overload with how the colors mixed and blended together while Mingyu was helping you ride out your orgasm.

This was it. This was the seventh heaven.

While you were still twitching from your intense orgasm, Mingyu sat up so that he could fix his pants, his chest rising and falling in tune with yours. You were still sprawled out on the rock, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon. The previously colorful sky had been drowned out by black and blue, but it was still bright enough to make out your surroundings.

“I never answered you properly,” you said after you caught your breath. The clouds rolled out of view, revealing the illuminated moon that shone down on you two. You sat up, meeting Mingyu’s curious gaze and declaring, “I’d love to go out with you.”

You had never really been able to fully understand what love was. It had been a foreign concept to you for years. When Mingyu smiled brightly and kissed you again, though, it had never been so clear to you.

You honestly felt bad for the librarian.

As soon as you and Mingyu walked into the library hand-in-hand, you heard a chorus of groans from your friend group’s table. They were all jeering at you like they hadn’t been the ones convincing you to ask out Mingyu a few days ago. This time, Ryujin was also mocking you with them.

(You had asked her to show up so that you could give her the Smiski figurine she had delivered to your house. You had no idea why your friends kept ordering things and using your address for delivery.)

Soonyoung cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled, “Get a room!”

“We’re just holding hands!” Mingyu exclaimed. “You’re acting like we’re in the Victorian ages.” He waved his hand to get Soonyoung to move. “Give me some room so we can work on our project together.”

You giggled and took your seat next to Mingyu, your pinkies interlocked under the table. You were sure the honeymoon phase would wear off in a few months, but for now, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Of course, you kept most of your PDA behind closed doors so that your friends would taunt you, but you were happy with that.

Speaking of your friends, they were all over-the-moon when you and Mingyu announced that you were dating. Ryujin had screamed into your ear so loudly that you were pretty sure you experienced temporary hearing loss.

You and Mingyu also finally returned the whiteboard to the community room after erasing all of the sexual terminology on it. You two were surprised that you actually managed to knock out everything on both lists that hadn’t been canceled. Apparently, Jeonghan had been distressed over the whiteboard’s disappearance and filed a complaint to get a new one. He got his happy ending, too, when you and Mingyu rolled it back into the room.

“Y/N, Mingyu,” Jungwoo called. “Body counts—go!”

Mingyu blinked. “One?” he deadpanned. “Why would it be higher than that, dude?”

It was your turn now, with all eyes on you. Before, you wondered why you even felt the need to lie about something like that. It had all seemed like such a silly concern back then, but now you realized that there had never been a rush to lose your v-card.

Now, you could confidently say, “One.”

Because Kim Mingyu’s Guide To Losing Your Virginity really was effective.

mingyu: hey mingyu: what happens when we finish the marvel marathon

y/n: wdym

mingyu: like what do we do with our lives mingyu: 70 hours and 46 minutes mingyu: it has to end eventually mingyu: we’ve been marathoning all this time with no foreseeable end until now

y/n: what did we do before the marvel marathon

mingyu: the barbie marathon

y/n: and what did we do before that

mingyu: the disney princesses marathon

y/n: and before that

mingyu: the saw marathon

y/n: exactly y/n: we will keep marathoning for as long as marathons exist

mingyu: is that your way of saying we’re forever?

y/n: yes it is

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ if you made it all the way to the end, MUAH! thank you so much for reading !! and thank you to everyone who asked to be on the tag list, i was so floored by the love you guys showed the teaser ♡ first and foremost, i have to shoutout fia for being the reason i changed my magic mike joke to magic mingyu. i would also like to shoutout mingyu for existing because his existence is the reason why this came into fruition. also shoutout to you for reading this because wow!!! you sat through all those words??? i am so honored, really :’) i hope you enjoyed this, thank you for being on this rollercoaster with me, and i hope you look forward to my future works

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[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)

contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3

satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.

“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.

you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”

“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”

you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.

your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.

not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.

“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.

satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.

for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?

as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)

“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”

“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.

“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”

“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”

“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.

years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.

he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.

satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.

he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.

“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”

“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”

“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.

“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”

“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”

“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”

“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.

he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”

“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”

“and what would that be?” he pouts.

“everything.”

“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.

“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”

“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.

“think about what?”

“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”

“i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”

“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”

“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.

“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.

“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”

“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”

he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.

ever.

“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”

“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”

“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.

his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.

“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”

“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.

satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.

i cried writing this. what a man he is truly

[witchywcmans]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 4.8k

song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine

author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.

He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.

It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.

The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.

What a foolish girl you had become.

You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.

You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. “It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”

Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?

There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.

You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.

“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.

His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”

His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”

“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”

He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.

“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you … are you angry with me?”

“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”

You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.

“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”

“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”

“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”

His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”

“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”

“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.

“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”

Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”

He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”

“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”

Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”

He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.

“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.

“What?” Your curiosity peaked.

“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”

You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.

It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”

He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”

Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”

His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”

“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”

Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.

As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”

“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”

Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.

Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”

You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.

His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.

It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”

He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.

As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.

“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”

He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”

After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you. 

Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”

You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”

“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”

His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.

“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and  … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”

You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”

He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”

When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.

Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.

With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”

“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.

You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.

“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.

His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.

“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”

He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …” 

You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”

Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.

He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.

“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.

Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”

His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.

His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.

Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”

“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”

And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.

Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”

Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.

His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”

You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”

[nicksolemnlyswears]

THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE

summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

word count: 14.4k

warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.

a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!

this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!

i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.

The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.

After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.

He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.

As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.

Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.

"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.

Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.

He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.

"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.

Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.

"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"

"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."

Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.

It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.

"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"

Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.

"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.

"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."

"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.

Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.

As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.

Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.

Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.

All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.

One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.

He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.

"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.

As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.

Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.

You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."

You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'

"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."

"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.

Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.

It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.

"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.

"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.

You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."

Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."

"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.

Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.

"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.

A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.

"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.

"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."

Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.

Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.

You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.

He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.

One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.

Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.

"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.

"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.

You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"

You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.

"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.

"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.

"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.

"Deal."

Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.

This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.

"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.

Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.

"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.

"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.

You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.

"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?

"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.

It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.

"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.

"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.

Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.

"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.

Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.

"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.

He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?

He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"

"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.

"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.

"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.

If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."

A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.

"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.

You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"

Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'

"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.

"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.

"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."

"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.

It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.

He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.

You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.

The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.

"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.

"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.

"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.

"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.

He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.

He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.

The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.

Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.

"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.

"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.

"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.

"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.

"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.

"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.

Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."

"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.

"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."

Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."

Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.

"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.

"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.

"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.

"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.

Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."

"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.

"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.

"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.

"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.

"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.

Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.

"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.

"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."

"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.

"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.

"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.

Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.

He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.

Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.

As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.

When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.

You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.

You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.

You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"

"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.

"Are you going far?"

"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.

You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"

"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.

"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.

"You really don't have to…"

"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.

Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."

"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.

You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.

As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.

You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.

Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.

"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.

"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.

"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.

"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.

"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.

"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.

"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.

Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.

"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."

Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"

"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.

"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."

Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.

He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.

Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"

Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."

"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.

Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.

Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.

"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.

"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.

Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.

It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.

He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.

"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.

"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.

"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.

"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"Late night?"

"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"

"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.

There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.

"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.

Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."

There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.

You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.

"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."

Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.

Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.

"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.

"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.

"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."

"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"

"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.

"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.

"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.

"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.

Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.

"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.

"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.

"You're forgiven," you chirp.

"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.

"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.

The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.

"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"

It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.

"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.

"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.

"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"

"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.

"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.

"So, rebellion or something else?"

"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."

"Did it work?"

"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."

Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"

"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.

Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.

"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.

"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."

Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'

"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.

"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"

"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.

"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.

The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.

Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.

"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.

Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."

Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.

"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.

"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.

"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.

"Night," he whispers.

As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.

Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.

As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.

The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?

He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.

When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."

You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.

"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.

"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.

You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.

"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.

"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.

Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.

He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.

As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."

"You sure?" He asks once more.

If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."

"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.

When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.

Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.

"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.

"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.

"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.

"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.

Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.

"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.

Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.

Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."

"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.

"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.

Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.

"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.

Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"

Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."

"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."

"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.

"Yes, chef!"

Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?

His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.

Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.

If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.

One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.

You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.

"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.

When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.

It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.

They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.

Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.

Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.

With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'

He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.

His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.

Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.

You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.

Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.

"Chef, your girl is here."

"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.

"Here you go."

Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.

I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear

"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.

"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.

"Yes, Chef!"

Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.

"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.

Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too, Neil!"

"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.

Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"

"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.

"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.

"What about your famous pizza?"

"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"

"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."

"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."

Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.

"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.

"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.

You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.

"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.

"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.

"That rough," you grimace.

"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.

"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.

You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.

He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.

Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.

His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.

"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.

"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.

Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.

"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.

The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.

"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.

"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.

Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.

You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.

Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.

This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.

He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'

He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.

"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?

Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."

"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.

"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.

"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.

The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.

His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.

Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.

"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.

"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.

Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.

What good does he have to offer you?

"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."

You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.

His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."

Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.

You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.

"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.

"Then don't."

Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.

It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.

Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.

"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.

"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.

Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.

He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.

Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.

"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.

"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.

Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.

"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.

Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.

His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.

You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.

He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.

The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.

"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.

"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.

"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.

Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.

"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.

Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."

Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.

The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.

Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.

Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.

He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.

With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.

Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.

His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.

Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.

"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.

Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.

It's been so fuckin' long.

With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.

"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.

"Look at me," you sweetly say.

Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.

"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.

Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.

"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.

You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.

The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.

"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.

You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.

Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.

"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.

"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.

Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.

"Carmen, please."

"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.

"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.

"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."

"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.

Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.

With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.

Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.

Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.

"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.

"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."

His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.

Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.

His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.

Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.

"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.

"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?

Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.

"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.

"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."

He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.

Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.

"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.

You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.

He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.

"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.

"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.

There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.

A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.

For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.

You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.

"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.

Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?

"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.

"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.

You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.

Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.

A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.

"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.

Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.

"Exactly! Someone gets it!"

And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.

A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.

"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.

"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.

"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.

Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.

As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.

"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."

Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.

Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.

"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.

"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.

Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.

"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.

"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.

"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.

Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.

"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"

"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.

"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.

You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.

When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.

"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.

"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.

The End?

thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.

if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!

thank you! bye xx

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny hadn't ever been on this side of the equation before.

He stared at his old phone, the prickle of unease scratching at his neck.

Danny was the one that died. He was the one that died and came back. He'd never asked anyone how it had felt to see him die over and over again to become Phantom. Danny was starting to think that maybe he should have, if only so that he wouldn't be blindsided about what he felt now.

"Danny? Y'okay?"

Danny glanced up at the mumbled words, numbed eyes looking at Jason's sleep-heavy face.

"Hm?"

"Ya've been lookin' at that thing for an hour now. You good?"

Danny blinked at him, like the world was a sea of bittersweet molasses and he was the sailor drowning beneath its waves. "...Remember how I told you that you reminded me of my sister?"

There was apprehension on Jason's face now. It was a gentle kind of apprehension, softened by worry and love.

“Yeah…?”

Danny gestured for Jason to come closer. He opened the phone and tapped on Jazz.

“Woah. She kinda looks like me.” Jason tugged at his black hair. “Y’know, if I kept my red hair.”

Danny smiled, sad and tired. “Yeah. She really liked reading. And she always wanted to know more. Help more. Like you,” Danny’s eyes laid on the folded uniform of Robin on the kitchen table. He hugged Jason closer. “You remind me of her.”

“What… what happened to her?”

Danny hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Even when Jazz spoke to him in half remembered whispers and in Jason’s actions, he could not shed a tear. But something about today, something about those pictures, opened up a poorly scabbed wound and Danny’s face dripped with slow tears.

“She died,” he whispered. “I brought the vigilante life to her and she died protecting me.”

“Oh. That’s why you were so mad, then.” Jason looked down at the picture, blue eyes tracing the face of the woman that looked so similar to him.

“Yeah.”

“I won’t die, Danny,” Jason promised.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jay." Danny squeezed Jason's shoulders before wiping away his tears. He inhaled, a slow, shuddering breath, before straightening. "You are so grounded."

"But- Robin!"

"Jason will always come before Robin. And Jason is grounded because Jason lied to me about being Robin and where he was going and whether or not he was safe."

And really, wasn't that the crux of the issue? Danny didn't have any problem with Jason going out and starting fights. He had no problem with how Jason wanted to help. But the thought of loosing him- loosing his loved ones after only learning to keep them clutched to his heart before he looses them- drove Danny down a spiral that he could not afford to enter again.

How many times had Danny almost lose Jason? How many times did he come to loosing the only good thing in Gotham? How many times had he laid asleep, not knowing whether Jason was bleeding out in an alley somewhere? How close had Danny come to waking up to news of Jason's cold corpse?

It made him furious. More than that, it made him terrified. Never in his half life had he ever been afraid to this extent. Not even for Jazz. It made him want to drown the feeling with enough booze to down a speedster. But he couldn't. Not now, not with Jason. His little brother deserved better than that. Not to mention the shit his little brother would get up to if he weren't fully there.

"But first, you gotta help me with something."

"... Fine."

Danny got up and bee-lined towards his booze stash. They're going out. Right now. He shoved the bottles into a tote bag.

"Let's go. We're destroying this."

"We are?"

"I can't be drunk and teach you how to vigilante."

"You're okay with me being Robin?" Hesitant blue eyes peered up at him. Danny's heart melted, the traitorous little shit.

"Not really. But I can't stop you, so I might as well make sure you live past 25." He jabbed Jason's forehead. "And I'll be reaming out Batman the next time he swings by, now that I'm not pissed as hell. I'll make sure it hurts."

"He's not that bad."

Danny sent him an unimpressed look and Jason mimed zipping his mouth closed, twisiting an imaginary key and throwing it over his shoulder. The little shit thinks he's got jokes. (He does, but Danny's supposed to be mad with him right now, so he'll never admit he thinks Jason's funny.)

They walked out of the apartment complex and turned to the right, right into the alley.

Did his heart give a little twinge every time Jason tossed the booze? Yes. But the hopeful thrill in his little brother's countenance made up for every single penny he spent.

"So... How long am I grounded for?"

At the reminder, Danny's hands clamped around one of the last bottles a little harsher than necessary.

"You... are grounded for- till college." He gritted out, tossing the bottle.

Jason's horrified "For- till college?!" rang nicely against the shattering of Danny's booze. Danny grinned and gave Jason a noogie.

"For till college," He affirmed, joking tone making Jason grumble, struggling to get out of the hold. "Or, for like, a week."

---

"Hey, Danny?"

Danny grunted, rousing slightly from his nap on the couch. They had been watching a show in the middle of Jason's grounding when he had drifted off.

"Did I ever tell you I had a brother?"

Danny's eyes flew open. "... No. Do you want to?"

Danny swiveled his head to look at Jason, who sat with his back against the couch and his head set aglow by the light of the TV. He looked... sad. Lonely.

"His name was Danny too."

Danny's heart shot right up to his throat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He died." Danny couldn't help the thought that passed him. Me too, buddy, me too. "I thought you were him. 'S why I talked ta ya, even if y're drinkin'."

Danny tilted his head back, silently closing his eyes in grief. It was fate, that wily Ancient.

"Is that... bad?"

"Nah. You're as good a brother as he was."

"Thank you for telling me, Jason."

"Whatever."

Danny laid back down, the thread of a memory all but confirming his theory.

"Come on, Danny-o, Jazz was being a good sister!"

Five year old Danny pulled the blanket up to his chin, pouting. His mother laughed.

"That's right, sweetie. She was trying to make sure you didn't get sick."

"I don't want Jazz! I want- I want a brother instead!"

His parents exchanged amused looks. "Well, Danny-o, you almost had a brother."

"Really?" Danny turned around, curious.

"Really. If Jazz was a boy, we would have named him Jason!" His dad laughed, ruffling his hair.

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Ew. I like Jazz better... oh."

[giuliettagaltieri]

Not Her Man

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow

Warning: Girlrotting

Word Count: 3193

Part 1 • Part 3

You were always scared to do drugs.  

You saw Rafe at his highs, you were with him, keeping him from doing anything stupid like when he was so sure he could backflip from Tanneyhill’s rooftop and land on the grass perfectly. 

But you also wondered how difficult it was for him to get clean.  To suffer from withdrawals.  And as you lie on your fur carpet, staring at the glimmering crystals of your chandelier, with your closet half emptied and scattered all around your room, along with rolling wine bottles on the polished hardwood floor of your bedroom, you think you might have understood just a little.

Blocking him was the hardest thing you have ever done in your life, especially when it was your routine to giggle over whatever interaction you had through text that day.  The itch to open his account for any update made you want to bind your hands together.

Your parents are out of the country, busy overseeing their business, forgetting to oversee their daughter.  Your maids were there for you, at least they try to be.  They bring you food on schedule, even sliding in a few scoops of ice cream every now and then in your room when your sobs start to echo around the halls.

Rafe tried to contact you multiple times.  First, through your phone, but you blocked him.  Next, he tried to throw pebbles at your window, but your seventy-six year old gardener fired a shotgun at him, thinking that he was a burglar.  Next, he tried a different approach, he was sending you gigantic bouquets of your favorite flowers, making the hallway leading to your room look like a wedding set up, the flowers perfumed the entire house too, drawing a concerning amount of bees.  One epipen to your chef’s thigh later, Rafe stops sending them.

He never really does anything right.  All he does is mess up, create more problems for himself.  You almost wanted to give in, but you remind yourself of the things he said.  Anger and hurt quickly replaces pity.

A familiar chime of your phone had you groaning.  Your friends are probably going to have another attempt of making you step out of your room, like inviting you to have your nails done or shop, just to get your mind off of Rafe.

You just let the ringtone end and you go back to staring at the chandelier, wondering if you’ll be quick enough to get out of the way if it somehow falls.  Before you can plan a strategic roll, your phone rings again.

Blindly reaching underneath the scattered pillows, you finally locate the buzzing device.  You answer without looking at the caller ID. 

“Y/N speaking.”  You mumble lazily.

“Hey, girlie.”  There goes the high-pitched voice of your friend.  “Sooo, the girls and I-hush!”  You hear a bunch of girls giggling behind the line and your brows crease together in annoyance.  “We’re going on a party tonight and we’re thinking that maybe you’d liketocomewithus?”

You play with the lace of your dress, eyes just following the patterns when you hear your name being called again over the phone.

“I’m not in the mood for parties.” 

“You are never in the mood for anything anymore.”  She whines behind the line.  Her tone prompts you to sit up to pick up the stale wine you left out in the open for too long.  Taking a sip and ignoring the thin coat of dust it caught after you ransacked your closet for something that made you look confident, only for you to end up squeezing in the dress that Rafe got you as a present for your 13th birthday.  He didn’t pick it out for you, of course, but it still made you all fizzy and bubbly and excited inside.

You put down the wine to scratch at the waistband that is digging on the skin of your under bust, the fabric being stretched beyond its capacity.

“I know.”  You tried to sound apologetic.  “I just can’t, okay?”

She sighs, making you let out a grateful sigh.  There’s still some ceiling viewing you had to get back to.

“I’m picking you up at seven.”  She speaks with finality and before you can answer, she continues.  “Please don’t let that awful man get the satisfaction of knowing that he has this much effect on you.”  You can hear her begging behind the phone.  She and the other girls are just looking out for you.

With an unwilling heart, you decide to get on your feet, your socked foot nearly slipping the moment it touches the wooden floor.  Cursing, you finally crouch on the piled up clothes you threw earlier. 

“Fine, I’ll come.”  You roll your eyes.  “Dresscode?”

You hear an airy chuckle and you can imagine her pinching your cheeks if you were within her reach.  “Party’s open to all, Kooks or Pogues.  In the community beach house.  You dress however you like.  I’ll match your vibe, if you’d like.”

This makes a smile creep on your lips.  She’s definitely on the top 10 list of the most annoying people you know but you thank God everyday for a friend like her.  “You know I love you, right?”

She snorts before bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “Duh.  I love you too.”

“See you later.”  You grin.  “Tell the girls I’m coming too.”

“Sure, see you!” 

You hang up and get started on searching for the right outfit.  Well, there’s the classic white flowy dresses, but everybody wears them.  You could wear a short and a cute top, show some belly?  Blech, you’re not exactly in one of your maneater moods.  But perhaps if you covered it with that oversized white pinstriped polo, it could work?  Yeah, something casual yet put together.  It’s not like you’re dressing to impress anybody, or somebody in particular, you’d prioritize comfort over fashion tonight.

A knock on your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts.  With a shrug, you throw your chosen clothes on your bed.

“Coming.”  You call while trudging over to open the door.  There stood your maid, she was looking anxious, wringing her wrinkly hands.  “What is it?”

She glances at your odd choice of clothing before she looks away so as to not make you uncomfortable.  “Well, uhm, Sir Cameron is here again, miss.  He’s waiting for you downstairs, in the drawing room.”

You press your lips in a firm line.  “Tell him I’m not here.”

Your maid smiles apologetically.  “He…he saw you in your bedroom window before he came in, miss.”

Huffing, you tap your feet impatiently.  “Just tell him I’m busy.”

“He said you’ll say that.”  She mutters, amusement in her tone.  “And he asked us to tell you that he can wait.”

You close your eyes to keep them from rolling.  “Whatever, he can stay as long as he likes, but I’m not coming down to meet him.”  You push the door a little wider and your maid’s eyes widen at the state of your room.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but can you help me clean up?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent tidying up your room. 

It was dark out, a couple of minutes past seven when your phone buzzed.  Knowing that it’s your girlfriends, you pick your bag, filled with the usual party necessities and head downstairs.  It’s a habit, assigning yourself as the responsible friend who stays sober to look after the others.

You are slipping in the pearl bracelet your grandmother got for you last Christmas when you hear your name being called and in instinct, you turn around.

“Oh, right.”  You say with a tone that is drier than the Sahara desert.  “You’re here.”

Rafe’s standing just outside your drawing room, his hands falling to his side.

“Yeah.”  He spoke awkwardly, his eyes glancing at your outfit, familiarity crossing them before he looked at your eyes again.  “I was waiting for you.”

You exhale softly and he just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

“I know.”  You say simply.  “Gotta go.”  You start walking again to your door.

“Wait, Y/N.” He easily catches up.  “You’re…you’re coming to the party, right?”  He asks hopefully.

“Yes.”  You respond without looking at him.

Rafe smiles but it quickly dissipates when he sees a different car waiting for you.  “Hold on, I can drive you there.”  He says quickly, his hand gripping yours just to get you to listen to him.  “I can drive you to the party.”  He says in an uncharacteristically sheepish way.

For a second, you look at him, really look at him.  His smile grows wide.  He missed having your eyes on him.  You’re his best friend, and he’s used to doing everything with you by his side.  He also liked how dependent you were on him too, always asking for his approval.  You have a bit of an overbearing attitude but he would be lying if he’ll say that he doesn’t miss you doting on him too.  Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s dependent on this odd friendship you both have.

“No, thank you.”  You say before pulling your hand away with a sharp look thrown his way.  He watches you walk away to greet your friends.  He’s still stuck there, staring, even after the car drives away.

He doesn’t understand it.

You’re the emotional one, why are you doing so well without him?  You never go to parties with other people, it was always him that you stick close to.  Clinging on him, pulling him to the dance floor when he’s about to do a line of coke, or accidentally knocking his cup when he’s had too much drinks.

Running a hand through his face, Rafe decides to hop on his car and follow you to the party.  You’ll be in the same space as him in the next few hours.  He’ll get another chance there.  He’s certain of it.

He didn’t get the chance.

With you by his side all the time, you memorized his set of activities at parties and you evaded him perfectly.  Rafe decided that it was best to stand by the punch table.  You’d get thirsty eventually, and he’ll be there waiting if you do.

On the other side of the house, farthest from Rafe, there you sit by the porch swing, admiring the push and pull of the waves.  The party was at its climax and everybody was cramped inside the house, dancing and drinking, or doing unholy activities.  You don’t know how you managed to slip away from your friends but you’re glad you did.  You needed the fresh air.

You’re just starting to get comfortable when a man stumbles out the door.  You watch him struggle to keep himself up.  He looked lost? Or just flat out drunk.  You watch in amusement as he scratches his blonde head, he must be having a whiplash from all the blinding neon lights inside and suddenly his vision switches to the bright light provided by the LEDs. 

His feet twist and he starts to fall to the side, your head tilting to follow his fall.  You wince when you hear the loud thud of his body hitting the floor, followed by his muffled but loud groaning.

“Motherfu-”  He sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he shakes his head like a dog.

“You alright, JJ?”  You chuckle.

He whips his head to you, cursing again when his vision spins.  “Y/N?”  He drawls out while rubbing his eyes.  “You saw everything?”

Still laughing, you get up to crouch next to him.  “I did.”  You smile when he groans out again.  “Are you okay?”

He props up a knee and rests an arm there, he looks buzzed, his eyes are heavily lidded as he stares off into the ocean.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He glances at you.  “Well, this is a strange sight.”

“What is?”  You mumble as you look away from him, deciding to play dumb.

He shrugs animatedly, hands gesturing to you and the entire space of the porch.  “Usually, wherever you are, your boyfriend is not that far behind.”  He points a thumb behind him.  “And if I wasn’t imagining it, I’m pretty sure I just saw him brooding over the drinks.”

You chuckle dryly as you bring your knees to your chest.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

JJ looks at you with an unimpressed face.  “That’s all you heard.”

Playfully punching his shoulder, you sigh.  “We fought.”

He frowns, back straightening immediately.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  It’s kind of sweet how your words seemed to have sobered him really quick.

“No!  No, he didn’t.”  You reply right away.  “Well, at least not physically.”

You watch him grimace.  “Outside physical fights, I have little to no idea how to respond.”

“That’s okay, JJ.  I don’t wanna talk about it, anyway.”

He gives you a boyish grin, as if to reassure you before scratching at his jaw, your eyes mindlessly follow his movements and you see a scratch.

“You’re hurt.”  You tell him, pointing at your own jaw.

“Huh?”  He touches his jaw and winces.  “Ow!  Must’ve scratched myself when I…uhm.”

“When you decided to attack the floor.”  You finish for him and he clears his throat.  “You’ll have to disinfect it.”

“Pfft, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s just a scratch.”

But you are already grabbing your bag by the swing and you return with a small kit.

“I forgot to bring wipes.”  You mumble before crouching down in front of him.  He swallows at your close proximity.  “Come on, JJ.  It’s just antibacterial cream.”

He hesitantly shows you his face and you gently apply the cream, tutting when he dramatically pulls away.

You grab his face and tilt it slightly and JJ squeezes his eyes.

“It fucking stings.”  He nearly whines, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be a baby!”  You huff and he stays still for a second, allowing you to smear the cream evenly and he rolls away from you as soon as you’re done.

JJ was muttering about God knows what while you’re busy putting your stuff away.  When you sit next to him again, he’s much calmer, a lazy smile back on his face again.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You throw him a playful glare.  “You’re welcome.”

He touches the scratch and you almost tell him off but he quickly pulls his hand away. 

“Why didn’t Cameron make you his girl?”

You blow out a big sigh.  “He doesn’t like me.”

“Bullshit.”  He laughs but he clears his throat when you look at him unamused.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”  You smile at him genuinely before averting your eyes.  “I wouldn’t blame him.  I mean, you saw how I can be.”  You chuckle this time but there’s no humor on JJ’s face, he’s looking at you rather sadly.  “I care too much and everybody suffocates around me.”

“I don’t.”  He says quickly.  “I was just being dramatic earlier.”  He rubs his nape.  “I’m not used to having people tend to me, I mostly just do it myself.”  He seeks your eyes and you finally look at him. 

You hear a creak behind you but before you can look, JJ cups your face to keep you from breaking your eye contact, making your breath hitch.

“I liked being taken care of like that.”  He whispers and your lips part slightly.

“JJ.”  You say breathlessly and he grins, his face leaning dangerously close to you.  “You’re drunk.”

He gently bites his bottom lip and you have to look away from his blatant flirting.  “I’m sober enough to kiss, I promise.”

This…this isn’t right.  

You gently push him away and his lips immediately form a pout.  “You’re such a kid, JJ.”

He clicks his tongue and angrily stoops as he glares at the ocean.  “You had no idea how long it took me to build the courage to do that.”

“Five minutes?”  You jokingly bump his shoulders, making his act break at the edges, a smile threatening to crack on his lips.  “Seriously, J, I can’t kiss drunk guys.  It’s unethical.”

He mimics you in a childish voice and buries his face on his palms harshly.  He turns to you again, with his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead and red blotches appearing on some areas of his face.  “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”  The way he glances at your lips had your throat drying up.  “I really wanted to kiss you.”  Aside from Rafe, you have little to no experience with the male attention and frankly, you don’t know what to do.

You place a hand on his shoulder and stiffly pat it twice.  “You’ll get over it.”

JJ looks at you exasperatedly.  “You’re taking this too lightly, this is my feelings we are talking about.”

You stifle a laughter.  “Oh, so you have feelings for me.”  You raise a brow at him and he nods his head enthusiastically.

“Every guy on this island has a thing for you.”  He says animatedly.  “If it wasn’t for your bodyguard, we would have made our move long ago.”

You are deeply flattered, you can’t resist the girlish smile from tugging on your lips, your cheeks slowly heating up.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He looks deeply offended and places a hand on his chest.

“You’re the ultimate dream girl, stupid!”  He dodges a punch from you.  “You’re like the total package.  You’re sweet, and smart, you’re also very pretty, you can be funny too when you let loose.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you and this pulls a laughter from you, a real, genuine laughter that had your shoulders shaking.

“When are you gonna get serious, J?”  Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you get up.  “Wait here, I’ll get us a drink.”

He gives you a two finger salute before lying smack down on the floor, with his arms spread out.  You shake your head, chuckling when you open the door.

And your hair stands on end.

There stood the very person you have been avoiding the entire night.

But for once, he isn’t wearing a scowl or a condescending cocky smile.

He was looking at you like a man defeated and broken.

“Rafe.”  You whisper as you reach for him but you stop yourself before your skin can touch.  He looks at your hand and then your eyes.  You don’t know if it’s the trick of light but you could have sworn his eyes are glassy.

“Hey, Y/N, everything alright?”  JJ calls.

Rafe glances at JJ and then back at you, he nods slowly as he takes a step back.  Your heart aches as you watch him take another step away from you but you will yourself not to follow.  He runs a hand on his mouth and he turns away from you.

You stare at his back as he leaves, torn between choosing your own pride or running after him.  For what seemed like hours, you stood there, frozen.  Still lost in the onslaught of emotions that surged through you.

Not Your Girl • His Girl

[smallestapplin]

Warnings : harem, human reader left GN!, autobots, in a meeting no less, belly bulge

🔞MDNI 18+ only🔞

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Imagine being the darling of the autobots.

You practically live at their base, help them in their respective works, maybe even giving them ideas they hadn't thought of in the heat of the moment. They adore you, but it's common knowledge between them at least, that they all want you.

You don't notice that Optimus has you smelling like a truck, his scent pouring off of you in waves, confusing some if they don't see you first, thinking it's their boss, but no it's little ol' you.

Or how Sidesipe and Sunstreaker team up to get you away from Prowl, ho has no problem chasing them down to get you back.

Or that Bee follows you around, or carries you around, like an excited puppy, he just wants to be around you at all times and gets huffy if your time is taken up by another.

But it doesn't take too long for someone to cave and confess their love to you, and just when Jazz does so, so does everyone else, arguing that they love you more and just want to spoil and protect you.

So why not share?

Surprisingly everyone agreed and came up with a schedule so everyone could have time with you.

Maybe that's how you ended seated on Optimus's spike in the middle of a meeting, just keeping him warm in front of everyone. You can feel so many optics on you, staring at your trembling body, watching you struggle to stay still on the massive spike stretching you out.

You're not even half way down Optimus's shaft, but even so there is so much transfluid leaking from where you two connect. You can't even hear what the boss bot is talking about, your mind is fried and your stomach bulging from the intrusion.

And all while being watched? You know most of the bots in the room aren't even listening, just captivated by the sight of you.

The knowledge makes you clench around Optimus, making him tremble and fumble is words midspeech.

You don't want to disturb or interrupt them, but you're so close to cumming-!!

You bite down on your hand, trying so hard to muffle your squeal. Your juices coat the spike inside you, sliding down the rest of his shaft. Your climax has Optimus overloading, covering your insides with his transfluid, but it's so much and gushing out from around him.

By the time you two are done, he carefully lifts you off him, giving the top of your head a tender kiss, before passing you off to Prowl so he could continue what he was saying.

And given such a chance in front of everyone? Oh, of course he's going to use it to prove he's the best at pleasing you.

It becomes increasingly harder to listen to Optimus when you're sobbing and shrieking over his words, pleading 's-slow down! I can't- fuuuck!'

Drooling and crying as your hole gets stuffed with Prowl's thick spike.

Faintly you can hear Bee and Hot Rod whining, probably begging to go next with you, or trying not to touch themselves at the sight of your fucked out expression.

You're just going to be passed around after he overloads, just to let everyone have a taste of you.

So what's a few more climaxes when you'll get the best aftercare?

[teojira]

I saw that you had transformers on your fandom list, will you be willing to write a 'bot of choice x human reader jealousy/protectiveness fic? Like in that one scene from Transformers 2 where the Deception Pretender tried to seduce Sam but Bee absolutely wasn't having that but had to stay in car mode?

[Aren't you supposed to be more mature than this?]

Summary: Optimus knows better than to get attached to you (too late), he can't help but side eye you and a stranger interacting. (Based on Knightverse Optimus, after ROTB!)

Word count: 800+ words!

Pronouns: They/them

Warnings: Optimus is bad at feelings, Optimus being down bad, extremely self indulgent. Mainly Optimus' Pov as well! Lmk if I need to tag anything!

A/N: Everyone who knows me knows of my obsession and love for this man it's so bad, I have him tattooed and have a whole ass shrine I love HIMMM, Thank you sm for the request! He is the love of my life.

Optimus Prime has been called many things, many of which are true, things he'd accept with pride.

A great leader, a good friend, a valuable teammate, A war criminal.

A jealous bot was never one of them, until recently.

He wasn't sure when he started to take a shine towards you. Was it after Unicron? When he held you in his servos, cradling you to his chest as he transformed back into his bipedal form, only letting go of you after the confused looks from Bee and Mirage.

Maybe it was a while after that, when you offered to help clean him up, Noah was too busy rebuilding Mirage to offer his services to the big man himself.

Optimus could never wipe the feeling of your small hands gently running across his frame, taking extra care to mend any scratches you found, constantly checking in to make sure he was comfortable.

He's ashamed to admit, but he kept shuddering under your touch, his senses overwhelmed by your presence. Every time his cooling fans turned on, he'd wave it off as it was just hot outside. (it's 60 degrees out, liar.)

He tries to recharge that night, but the feeling in his chassis makes him restless. He can see his sensors go haywire at the mere thought of you. He is so fucked, he shuts his eyes and groans deeply, his mask shooting up to mask the sound, lest he wakes the others.

Primus help him.

With his new revelation, Optimus tries his best to distance himself towards you, always making excuses as to why he can't drive you home or to work (a flicker of jealously when Arcee offers, no one catches his digits curling ever so slightly into his palm), saying he must go on patrol for the time being. He waves you off when you try and care for him, asking if he'd like any help with any scrapes and dents, saying he can live with them, he's been through worse.

Its only natural that you'd give him some space, that's the kind of person you are, kind, loving, respectful, loyal to a fault, but it doesn't escape his notice when your smile falls after he politely tells you you're not needed, his spark aching when you turn around to go find another bot.

Optimus watches you now, stationed on the street.

He has no right to be upset when you're stopped outside of the garage by an older man, the man so clearly taking interest in you while you're very politely listening and nodding, shooting that oh so pretty smile to a man who he's sure is not fit to be anywhere near you, not worthy of the warm smile you wear.

It makes him seethe in jealousy, and it's scary.

He can not remember a time when he had ever been jealous. He's a prime. He was supposed to be a calm and collected leader and yet. And yet, he's so close to blowing his hor-

You suddenly whirl towards him. If he was any better of a man, he wouldn't immediately think of how cute you looked, how your lips moved as you let out a yelp.

It isn't until that thought passes his mind that he realizes he used his truckers horn. Embarrassment trickles through his body, although now he has your attention, and you are making your way towards him. The man following behind you keeps the conversation going, not catching a hint.

Optimus is ready to honk again, especially if this man keeps following so close behind you, way too close for comfort.

You beat him to it, turning around as you rest a hand on Optimus’ cabins door handle, shooting the man a polite smile.

“Sorry about that, but my husband is actually here to pick me up, so I have to go. Have a good day!” And You hoist yourself up, quickly buckling your seat belt, gently patting the dashboard in hopes Optimus fucking drives before you're bothered anymore.

Optimus’ processor buffers, his engine revving as he goes on autopilot to tale you both away. Does he know where to drive to? Certainly no, but you're with him now. He's sure you could ask him to take you to distant planets, and he'd make it work for you and only you.

“Thank you for the save, big guy.” You smile brightly at his steering wheel, your eyes lovingly trailing across the autobot symbol that sits in the center.

“It was nothing, I am glad to be there to assist.” The cabin rumbles with his voice, soothing your anxiety. You curl into your seat, resting your head.

“Where are we going?”

“If I'm not mistaken, you mentioned wanting to go to upstate New York to drive along some scenic routes? I'll gladly be your escort.”

He is so ridiculously falling for you, but he can't bring himself to hate it, especially when you excitedly hop in your seat.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[galaxyfever]

6:40 pm

"Babe, wake up."

You sleepily hummed, "...What?"

"Wake up."

"Why are you awake?"

"The sky is awake, so I am awake, that is why-"

You immediately interrupt him, "Please stop and go to sleep."

He whined and clung onto your arm, "But babe, I have to ask you a really important question!"

"Can this not wait until morning?"

"Nope, it cannot!", even if your eyes are closed, you know he has that stupid grin on his face.

You sighed, there is no point in arguing with him after all, "What is it?"

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

. . .

Peeking at the digital clock on your bedside table, you pulled the covers closer to your chin.

2:47 am.

"No. I hate insects."

He gasped, "Excuse you, worms are not insects!"

Deeply sighing, you turned away from him, "Insects, invertebrates, doesn't matter. Both are disgusting."

"Even butterflies?"

"Especially butterflies."

He huffed and snatched the cover from your side, "I thought you loved me!"

You sighed again and pulled back the covers, "I do love you. and I will continue to love you forever. As long as you're human. Isn't that enough?"

Maybe a little bit of flattery will help you to get your sleep back?

You knew he got flustered, but it is him, your beloved boyfriend, and he knew how your brain worked.

"No, you need to love me in every form."

"Life is not the bee movie, babe."

He turned away from you, "You are so mean."

Your eyes finally opened.

The topic was finished(?) and you could finally fall asleep, but was it worth waking up with a stingy boyfriend in the morning?

Definitely not.

You buried your face in his back and wrapped your arms around his waist, "I'll love you if I was a worm too. We'll be a worm couple and have worm babies. Happy now?"

He didn't say anything for a few seconds before clearing his throat, "Y-you are just saying that."

Grinning, you planted a kiss on his nape, "Goodnight, babe."

GOJO, Yuuji, RANPO, Dazai, NIKOLAI, Kaiser, Bachira, Kurona, Reo, ATSUMU, Oikawa, Bokuto, free to add!

I always liked this idea, but the flow of this drabble is so bad TT so might edit someday, thanks for reading anyways<33

[whalemleck]

Hi, I would simply like to show my appreciation for your Bodyguard!B127 au

The only way I know how: art

Also I do have to ask... does... does Bee become a good guy after sentinel dies or...?

I just wanna know If I could draw like... the aftermath. B-127 meeting Optimus Prime and maybe... I dunno maybe he's like "welp- you're the Prime now, I guess that make you my boss"

And Prime is like "... I have an assassin body guard now Ig??"

And they'd feel bad trowing him in prison so he pays for his time by doing community service or something.

Give me your secrets... (please)

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGMGOMOMGOMGOMGMOOMG

I'M GONNA EXPLODE TY!!!

About the question!!

At firs time I actually thought that B might end up in jail because of his actions. (like Arachnid)

But considering that Bee met Optimus when he was Orion, this will help him avoid prison.

Cliff and other bots also stand up for him, since they claim that B was originally raised and trained as a living weapon, it is not his fault that Sentinel turned out to be a traitor who simply decided to use him as an easy target for exploitation. (besides, Bi is still a YOUNGER)

and you're right!! Optimus accidentally acquired a bodyguard

Optimus is like: Umm... i think you understand that now you don’t have to protect me just because I’m Prime, right?

B-127: don't you enjoy my company? Sorry, I won't do it anymore…

Optimus: NO- I mean.. I mean, if that's what you want, I don't mind! I'm sure Elita will be glad to see you next to me, she trusts you more than I can thought.(I don’t want this child to go anywhere. I will be calmer if he is next to me)

B-127: ...glad to know