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adiraargent · 5 months

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Kiss Me Again - Mattheo Riddle

Request: heyy oh my God I seriously love your work, could you do one where they are best friends but like each other and won't confess but one day they both realise they are in love wc: 4.2k warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing Summary: you and Mattheo have been friends since the beginning of school, the two of you like each other but neither wants to admit it, scared that it would damage your relationship. The two of you decide to take a break from studying and sneak around Hogwarts and then one thing leads to another...

Mattheo Riddle, he had been your best friend for pretty much as long as you can remember. You grew up together, helped eachother threw everything, stuck by each others sides. You were fortunate to have most of your classes together, and even outside of class the two of you hung out.

You had the same friends, got pretty much the same grades and had very similar hobbies... it was rare to see one without the other.

The Hogwarts library stood as a citadel of tranquility, a bastion of wisdom and knowledge amidst the bustling halls of Hogwarts. Right now, you and Mattheo Riddle found yourselves engrossed in your studies, the air thick with the scent of parchment and the soft murmur of whispered incantations.

Seated side by side at a wooden table tucked amidst towering shelves, you and Mattheo immersed yourselves in textbooks and scrolls, the task at hand a mere facade for the unspoken emotions that danced between you.

Mattheo’s voice cut through the silence, "You alright, you've been pretty quiet for a while?"

You shot him a playful glare, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Well we are in the library Mattheo, we're meant to be quiet."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips, "yeah well you practically never shut up," a small laugh falling from his lips. This of course earnt him an eye roll, which he caught onto, yet he somehow managed to miss the little sparkle that glinted in your eye as you looked at his smiling face.

You sat there for a while, occasionally bickering or leaning over to ask for help when getting stuck on something, but due to exams coming up in only a few days, the two of you understood that you had to try your best to stay on task. Textbooks sprawled open, parchment filled with notes, and a shared determination to conquer the complexities of magical theory.

"Have you seen this spell?" you queried, pointing to a particularly intricate incantation in your book. You had been looking at it for the past 10 minutes or so, waving your wand around trying to get the right movement, but it seemed no matter how hard you tried, it just wasnt working how you wanted it to.

Mattheo leaned closer, his presence enveloping you in a warmth that sparked an indescribable sensation. You felt the hairs on your arm stick up, a warm feeling flushing in your chest as he leaned over your shoulder. "Ah, that one’s tricky. Let me show you a more efficient way to cast it."

His nearness sent a flutter through your senses, a magnetic pull that threatened to unravel the careful veil hiding the unspoken desires within. He reached over, his hand landing on top of yours and guiding your hand smoothly, "there you are, easy peasy."

"Thanks..." you murmured out, finally taking a breath as he leant back away from you.

As the sun dipped lower, signaling the arrival of evening, you and Mattheo began to gather your belongings. The unspoken feelings simmered beneath the layers of laughter and stolen glances, a silent understanding that bound your hearts in a dance of friendship and concealed affection.

Mattheo broke the tranquil silence, his voice softer than usual. "The library is closing soon, we should continue this in my dorm. You should head back to your dorm and get in something more comfy then come over"

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. "Yeah, ok are the boys in the dorm?"

"Nah Jasper and Theodore are over in Lorenzo's dorm and Draco is with Blaise," Mattheo replied, his gaze holding a depth that hinted at more than mere friendship as he packed his books, "so it'll be just us."

"Cool, see ya soon," you grinned widely, brushing your hair behind your ear unconciously.

After getting changed into something more comfortablein your dorm and a fresh spritz of purfume on you began your walk back to Mattheo's dorm (I'm trying my best to make it so it doesnt matter what house you are in so sorry if it's a little confusing). You couldnt help it as your mind trailed off to Mattheo. You knew you shouldnt be feeling this way, but you couldnt help it... this is wrong, he's my best friend.

He was more than that though, he was an important aspect in your life, and you couldnt imagine life without him.He’s always had your back and stood up for you. He's defended you against teachers and students, he's protected you from the dark horrors that come with being born to Bellatrix Lestrange and Tom Riddle, growing up in Malfoy Manor.

You were well aware of the fact that you've liked him for a while now, just a small girl crush... but lately its only seemed to get worse. You’ve caught yourself staring at him frequently, admiring his brown curls and earthy eyes, you've tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of butterflies that you get every time he laughs, or the tingling sting that you get whenever your skin comes in contact with his.

In the embrace of his hug, you find solace, pressed snugly against the contours of his toned chest. The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat against your skin forms an intimate symphony, a melody that soothes your very core, making you feel inexplicably safe.

His gentle touch, brushing away a stray tendril of hair from your face, sends a wave of warmth coursing through you. It's a tender gesture that beckons you to close your eyes and surrender to the comforting sensation of his fingers against your skin.

As his hand encircles your waist, drawing you nearer, an undeniable sense of belonging washes over you. In that moment, with Mattheos’s touch securing you, it feels like the perfect fit—your bodies in sync, entwined in a moment that feels destined.

The yearning for more intensifies, an undeniable craving for closeness, for the electrifying sensation of his touch. It's a desire that lingers, urging you to lean into the embrace, to savor every shared moment with Mattheo, wishing for an eternity in his arms

Shit I sound crazy you rolled your eyes at yourself, shaking the thoughts off and continuing your walk.

What you didnt know was that Mattheo had felt the same way. You didnt notice how he had started sitting even closer to you now, or the fact that he was constantly trying to come up with ways to inconspicuously touch you. You didnt notice the way he would put his hand on your back and lead you threw the halls when there were lots of people, or how if you were ever close to hitting your head on the corner of a cupboard or desk he would reach over and cover the surface with his hand.

Once you finally get to the door of his dorm, you knock a few times before pushing the door open, walking in to find Mattheo on the bed. "Hey Theo," you grumbled, dropping your bag to the ground and then jumping on the bed next to him with a tired sigh.

"Hey love."

“come on, you've got it, just try it a few more times and it'll be perfect”, Mattheo says from his desk, his chair rolling around to face you where you were lying on his bed, books laying around you.

“I cant do it Theo”, you sigh loudly, throwing your head back dramatically, “it's a stupid spell and I probably wont even use it after we leave school so why the hell do we even have to learn it.”

“Quit whining”, Mattheo replies, laughing whilst shaking his head, "it's not even that hard."

“It's not fair, why does an idiot like you get to be so smart without even trying”, you pout softly, pulling yourself up in a sitting position.

Mattheo's insistence on revisiting the notes for the umpteenth time made you almost desperate. You were tired and this was beginning to get frustrating, you hated it when you werent good at something. You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak up. "Please, Theo. I understand that good grades mean everything to you and how pressured you are with all of this, but I'm seriously starting to go out of my mind. I have hardly slept and this is giving me a really bad headache."

His silence made you nervous; you hadn't intended to come across so harshly. Mattheo seemed absorbed in his thoughts, clearly thinking about what to say or do. He understood that you were tired, the two of you, along with much of your grade had been waking up early and going to sleep late for the last few weeks in order to study for the exams. But this was all important, the two of you planned to become Aurors together when you left school, and you needed really good grades for that.

You bit your lip, grappling with your impatience. "Matth-"

A frustrated sigh escaped Mattheo's lips. You felt guilty, you knew why he tried so hard for his grades. He didnt want to turn out like his mother and father and the people around him at home, he wanted to do good. He needed good grades to help him escape.

Meeting his gaze, you found his intense brown eyes locked onto yours. "I apologize. You're right," he admitted, raking his hand through his brunette curls, your eyes went wide in shock, you hadnt actually expected him to agree with you, and you definietly didnt think that the next words would fall out of his lips, "hell it might even be a good idea for me to have a break, i'm tired too-"

Mattheo stood up, shutting his books and then stumbling over to the bed, a goofy smile on his face as he stuck his hand out in your direction. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, not exactly sure where he was going with this. When you said that the two of you needed to take a break, you just thought that the two of you would just chill and talk for a while, maybe lay down for a bit.

"Up ya hop," he beckoned, making a grabby motion with his hands a few times before sticking his open palm closer to your face, "move it or lose it mate," he continues. You raise your brows at him, hesitating before carefully reaching out to take his hand

Should I grab his hand?

"Merlin," Mattheo groaned, rolling his eyes before just grabbing her hand and then tugging her off the bed

"Hey asshole!" you complained, glaring up at him as he tugged you towards the door of his dorm, grabbing a jumper that was hanging over the back of his desk chair.

"Dont blame me, if we sat around here waiting for you to make up your mind then we'd be waiting till christmas," Mattheo complained sarcastically, pulling her down the hall and towards the main part of the common room.

As Mattheo dragged you along, you stumbled to keep up with his brisk pace, shooting him an annoyed glare. "Seriously, where are we going?" you demanded, trying to slow his progress by digging your heels into the floor.

But Mattheo seemed determined, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just trust me," he said with a smirk, not offering any further explanation.

You let out an exasperated sigh but relented, deciding to go along with whatever crazy idea he had in mind. You allowed him to tug you through the common room and out into the crisp evening air of the halls of the castle. It was late at night and since they were in the dungeons, it was freezing. There were no students anywhere, and the teachers were also more than likely in bed.

"Wait, Mattheo, it's freezing out here!" you protested, shivering as a gust of wind swept by, making you regret not grabbing a jacket.

He chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the cold. "Don't worry, I've got you covered," he assured, reaching for the jumper he had grabbed earlier. With a grin, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric immediately comforting.

"Thanks," you mumbled, feeling a bit guilty for calling him an asshole just moments ago.

Without missing a beat, Mattheo resumed his course, leading you through the halls. Mattheo glanced around the halls, noticing the dimly lit corners and hidden alcoves. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in and whispered, "I've heard rumors about secret passages hidden within the castle. Wanna go on a little exploration?"

Your curiosity piqued at the mention of secret passages. Nodding eagerly, you followed Mattheo as he led the way, navigating through the deserted corridors of the castle. Shadows danced on the walls, and the quiet of the night added an eerie yet thrilling atmosphere to your adventure.

Stopping in front of an intricately designed tapestry depicting a hunting scene, Mattheo grinned. "This is it," he whispered excitedly, pulling on a loose thread near the edge of the tapestry.

To your amazement, the tapestry shifted, revealing a concealed entrance behind it. Mattheo gestured for you to follow as he stepped through the hidden doorway. The passage was dimly lit by flickering torches, the air cool and musty.

You trailed behind Mattheo as you ventured deeper into the hidden corridors. The passages twisted and turned, leading you through a labyrinthine network beneath the castle. Dusty tomes and forgotten artifacts lined shelves carved into the stone walls, hinting at the secrets hidden within.

Occasionally, you stumbled upon locked doors or dead ends, but Mattheo's enthusiasm never waned. He seemed to have a natural talent for navigating the hidden passages, leading you further into the mysterious depths of the castle.

After what felt like an exhilarating journey through time and history, you stumbled upon a chamber bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. In the center stood an ancient-looking pedestal with a book resting upon it, emitting a faint shimmer.

"Is that...?" you started, your voice barely a whisper as you glanced at Mattheo, both of you captivated by the enigmatic sight before you.

Mattheo nodded in awe, his eyes reflecting the soft light. "I heard that there used to be this Ancient magic around Hogwarts that only a select few could see and use... apparently a goblin called Ranrok or something tried to gain control of that power but was stopped by a Hogwarts student who could see and use the magic, this is supposed to be her diary or something, there could be some cool stuff in there," he murmured, approaching the pedestal with caution.

You joined him, the book's pages radiating an otherworldly aura. As you reached out to touch it, a distant sound echoed through the chamber—a faint rattling followed by the unmistakable shuffle of footsteps.

Startled, you exchanged a quick glance with Mattheo before hastily retreating back into the hidden passages, leaving the mysterious book untouched. Heart pounding with excitement and adrenaline, you navigated the twisting corridors, making your way back to the safety of the castle's main corridors.

Breathless and exhilarated, you both burst into laughter as you emerged from the hidden entrance, relieved to have escaped without detection.

Caught up in the thrill of your secret exploration, you and Mattheo leaned against the castle wall, trying to catch your breath. The rush of adrenaline and the shared excitement created a bond between you that felt unbreakable.

As you exchanged a knowing glance, the unspoken promise of more adventures lingered in the air, filling you both with a sense of anticipation for the mysteries yet to be unraveled within the castle's hidden passages.

"Students out of bed!" They suddenly hear, their eyes widening at the familiar voice or Filch. They turned their heads to look down the corridor, a small hint of light making its way closer from one of the corners further down

"Oh shit!" Mattheo whispered, grabbing your hand and then yanking you through the halls once again.

"You can run but you cant hide!"

"Ouch Mattheo! You're gonna rip my fucking arm off you pri-"

Mattheo had grabbed you around the waist and thrown you over his shoulder. A small 'hmph' falling from your lips at the rough impact of his shoulder digging into your stomach. "Theo that hurts!" you whisper yell, smaking him softly on the back as he continues to run, Filch on your tail.

Mattheo quickly turns the corner and then pulls you both into a cupboard, slamming the door shut behind you both and putting you on the ground in front of him, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, a few small beads of sweat trickling down his forhead.

Mattheo let out an annoyed groan, "Fuck that was cl-"

You slap your hand over his mouth with one hand, using your free hand to put your finger up to your lips, telling him to shush before leaning your head against the door, trying to listen to whatever was going on outside, praying to god that Filch wasnt going to find you.

The footsteps outside grew louder, the sound of keys jingling and muttering becoming clearer. Filch's voice pierced through the silence, his grumbling indicating his frustration at not finding the mischievous students.

Mattheo's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes wide with anticipation and a hint of nervous excitement. You pressed against the door, your heart racing in sync with the rapid beat of footsteps passing by the cupboard's hiding spot.

Silence descended upon the corridor, broken only by the distant echoes of Filch's fading voice as he continued his search elsewhere. Mattheo let out a relieved exhale, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back against the cupboard.

"Phew," he whispered, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shot him a playful glare, still catching your breath from being carried over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Warn me before you decide to play hero next time," you teased, trying to suppress a giggle.

Mattheo chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sorry about that, had to think fast. You know how Filch is, always lurking around looking for cool kids like me."

"I think you mean dumbasses," you shot back jokingly

"Well you're out here too arent you?" he fired, a raised eyebrow paired with a smirk on his handsome face

"Hush," you grinned.

"Merlin im buggered," Mattheo yawned. Mattheo flashed you a grin, his eyes alight with excitement. "Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the thrill of the chase mixing with the shared relief at narrowly avoiding getting caught. "Definitely an adventure I won't forget anytime soon," you replied, still catching your breath.

You nodded in agreement, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the near encounter. The adrenaline rush began to fade, you went to open the door, pushing on it, but it didnt seem to budge.

“It won’t open.” You mumbled out, trying to push the door again

“What?” Mattheo asked, his breathing starting to go back to normal

“It won’t open.” you repeated with a frown as you pushed against the door yet again, but the hardwood didn’t budge.

"Yeah right," Mattheo muttered out, going to push the door thinking that maybe you just werent pushing it hard enough, "what the hell..."

“It’s…not so bad. It is probably just jammed or something — do you have your wand?.”

The realization that the door wouldn't budge sent a jolt of unease through both of you. Mattheo reached into his pocket, rummaging around for his wand, but his expression turned to one of dismay.

"Damn it, I left it back in the dorm room," he muttered, a tinge of worry edging into his voice. "But don't worry, its only a few more hours till everyone is up so someone will find us soon, and until then we can just chill or try and get the door open"

"This isn't good," you murmured, trying to keep your tone steady despite the rising worry in your chest.

The night was not supposed to go like this.

Heat sweltered between them, and not only because of the walls encasing them on every side, and the small space plus their added body heat, but the fact that they were so close together.

“Stop moving.” Mattheo mumbled as he looked up at the ceiling, his cheeks pink as he forced himself to look away from her, trying his best to stay calm and not freak out from the close proximity

"Sorry," you muttered, but once again shuffled unconsciously, the nerves taking over you as you grew more and more anxious, you didnt do well with small spaces, you were tired, and you were chest to chest with the boy you cared for more than anyone else

"Y/n." Mattheo grumbled sternly

“I can’t help it!” You responded anxiously. “Im tired and my legs are so sore, theres rat shit on the ground so I cant sit down, and I'm fucking cold Mattheo,” She pounded on the door, no longer caring if they got in trouble from the teachers, she just wanted to get out of there

“Hey, hey, you've just gotta stay calm okay, its alright!” Mattheo said softly, realising just how much she was beginning to freak out.

The cramped space amplified the tension between you, a mix of frustration, anxiety, and the unspoken feelings lingering in the air. Mattheo's attempts to keep the atmosphere calm were admirable, but the situation tested both your patience and composure.

"I know, I know," you muttered, attempting to steady your breathing. "I'm just... I'm not good with this. It's too much."

Mattheo's eyes softened with understanding, his usual mischievous demeanor giving way to a more caring expression. He reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay. We'll get through this," he said, his voice calming, though the unease lingered in his own words, "im here okay, you're okay."

You looked up at him, gazing into his brown eyes. He gave you a small smile

Damn it, theres that stupid feeling again.

His smile was then replaced with an unreadable expression. "You okay?" you muttered, confused by his atttitude change

Mattheo's eyes lingered on you, an unspoken question reflecting in their depths. "You know, I've been thinking..."

Your heart raced, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. "About what?"

"I uh... nah its stupid," he muttered, shaking his head, looking annoyed with himself

"It isnt stupid Theo, you can tell me, I wont judge you," you smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

He hesitated, "well its about..." his usual confidence faltering as he looked away, his words carrying a raw vulnerability. "About us... about our friendship."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your heart beating a frantic rhythm. "What about it?"

"We've been dancing around something," Mattheo confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, "something we've both been too scared to acknowledge."

Your breath hitched, the gravity of the moment sinking in as your gazes met, an unspoken understanding passing between you.

"I've been... feeling things," Mattheo admitted, his voice trembling slightly, "things that I've been too afraid to voice."

Your eyes softened, your vulnerability mirroring his own. "I know. Me too."

Even the cupboard seemed to hold its breath, the weight of your shared revelations hanging in the air. In that moment of quiet confession, the unspoken words that had lingered between you for so long found their voice, weaving a tapestry of emotions that had been hidden away.

With hearts laid bare and emotions laid bare, the unspoken became spoken, and the unacknowledged became understood. Love, so long restrained by the fear of losing a cherished friendship, now flowed freely between you, binding you in a bond deeper than friendship.

Your eyes widened slightly as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. "Mattheo..."

Are we moving too fast?

"Can I kiss you?" Mattheo asked softly, a pleading tone in his voice as he anxiously knibbled on the inside of his cheek. His anxiety wasnt soothed as you stared at him with wide eyes, shocked that all of this was actually happening.

He went to pull away, his cheeks flushing in embarassment, "I uh, you know... joking... just jo-"

You cut him off, pushing your lips against his, catching him by surprise. His eyes widened, his breath getting caught in his throat but he quickly regained composure, pulling you against his chest firmly as he kissed you deeper.

The two of you pulls away for a second, wide, giddy grins on your faces as you looked into eachothers eyes for a few seconds before leaning forwards again, your lips moulding together perfectly. The kiss became heated, your hands wrapping around his neck and his hands cupping your face, his thumbs rubbing against your skin softly. You stood up on your tippy toes, leaning into him even more.

You were the first one to pull away, looking up at Mattheo whose eyes remained closed for a few more moments, basking in the taste and feel of your soft lips. You smile widely, his smile matching yours as his eyes flutter open. His left thumb moves from your cheek to your lip, rubbing it softly.

You look up into his eyes and you see it.

Love.

"Kiss me again?" he whispered

"Only if you say please," you joke, leaning forward once more.

Credit to adiraargent. Please do not copy or repost anywhere. Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to leave a request :p

Wattpad: adira_argent

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icyg4l · 13 days

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PAC: what should you put on your bucket list for the summer?

hello beautiful people! i am starting my summer 2024 series right now and i am so excited!!!! i wanted to bring something new to everyone so i am creating specialized playlists for each group. they consist of six songs i’ve channeled during your reading. i hope that the group you chose resonates. i also hope that you all book a reading with me! :)

without further ado, please select your pile.

top left-to-bottom right: (1-4)

PILE ONE:

this pile may be newly single or fresh to the dating scene as a whole. you seem introverted, maybe covid messed up your social skills? it’s time to bring some life back into you! i think the main message here is to be more open to exploration.

cards used: the tower, 10 of discs, king of swords, the star, queen of wands, the hanged man, princess of cups.

learn how to swim

flirt with a stranger at a festival/concert

ride as many amusement park rides as you can

go on a picnic date

join some type of organization, or maybe even create one!

be as comfortable in your skin as you can; even go skinny dipping or to a new beach (only if you’re of age though!!)

go to a metaphysical shop

go on a group/double date with your friends

PILE TWO:

i feel like you’re insecure and you’re trying to work on that. this is the best summer to do so. i feel like this pile gets easily embarrassed. spirit wants you to stop that lmao. i take it that you’re someone who’s probably a loner.

cards used: 9 of cups, queen of discs, ace of wands, 3 of cups, 8 of swords, 5 of wands

do as much shadow work as you can

take up a self-defense class/boxing class

jump off the diving board

conquer your fear of heights by bungee jumping or rock climbing

hypnosis therapy

wear your natural hair in different styles each day for a week (maybe longer 🙈)

embrace family traditions

spa day!

have/go to a bonfire

scrapbook!

PILE THREE:

these are my r&b loversss. i feel like you guys have some pipes on you lol. this pile is kind of goofy too. this pile has to be as free as possible. no relationships, no commitments of any kind (minus a job cause y’know the economy rn is 😔). but anyway, the point is to just relax.

cards used: 6 of discs, the devil, the magician, 2 of cups, wheel of fortune, the sun, princess of cups.

go to a skate park

host an event

meet a special someone at the bar

connect with an old friend

adopt a pet

create an alter ego for yourself and show up as that person

do a good deed for someone, pay it forward.

have a dance battle in public

obtain a FWB (be smart & use protection of course 🤫)

post on social media as much as possible

PILE FOUR:

i can tell this is the pile that likes to be organized. you like to have plans made out before the summer. that might not be the case this summer. focus on being a little more free and spontaneous. flexibility is key, babe. get out of freezeeeee mode.

cards used: 3 of cups, the hanged man, 5 of wands, queen of wands, king of swords, the star, knight of cups, ace of discs.

dye your hair red!

pass the bar exam (for those of you who are future lawyers)

receive a tarot reading from an in-person psychic

flirt a little at the grocery store

get dressed up to go to a department store/chain store

have a girls night in with ur girls!

build a fort!

change up your day-to-day makeup routine

record a song with your friends

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johnnys-breastmilk · 9 months

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VHS Tape 1A - "Sleepover" | Wally Clark x Male!Reader

a/n – THIS is what sent me into a writing slump but lets hope i conquered it by finishing this

Summary – Last night, Wally invited you to a sleepover as a joke, but things turned serious by the end of the night.

warnings – drinking, sex, mentions of anal, oral (wally receiving), pre-death!Wally Clark, dirty talk, 18+, he might be a tad bit ooc!

words — 6.1k

~~~

Life was something that, to you, needed to be treated with the same level of thought and care as with anything else contained within it. You tried to be mindful of your grades at school, steered clear of any and all uses of drugs, especially the lethal ones, and kept your inner circle small for the most part. The teachers addressed you the same way you did them, on a first-name basis. You had practically secured a spot on the faculty-designated pages of the yearbook. That’s why, when Wally's constant teasing about the night you stayed over at his house started up, you almost didn’t believe him.

There was a black spot in your memory, a time when nothing existed to you, but something was there that he knew of. You tried to think back to the moments leading up to everything that had happened, things you knew for sure. It was the Friday before a huge exam that would take place on Monday of the following week, and a folded-up note was passed to you in fourth period–Psychology–from the back of the class. While the teacher was turned away, you carefully unfurled it to get to the message inside. To you, the plans for that night seemed normal enough–a sleepover study session to cram in as much information for the exam with enough booze to calm everyone’s nerves, as explained by Wally’s messy and strung-together letters on the note. It felt a little counter-intuitive, but he insisted on supplying the alcohol. He claimed that it would help encourage others in the class to show up and take their academics seriously, and you were inclined to believe his words. Who didn’t love free drinks and a jock with a nice house to get wasted in?

That was your first mistake, and the second came when he invited you over the day after the so-called sleepover. He flooded your landline with numerous calls, excitedly telling you all about how he got everything from last night on film and that he would be over to pick you up soon. The mere sight of his house from the windshield of his Cutlass jogged your memory. You remembered hesitantly walking up to his door, textbook in hand with a look of awe as you ogled at his house’s exterior. Typically middle class with a clean front exterior combining brick on the first floor and light blue paneling on the second. His house extended into a two-door garage, but both doors were closed the night you went. And the next morning, one was open as he pulled into the right side of the vacant garage. The door slid down behind you, sounding exactly how you wanted the VCR to when Wally inevitably played back last night’s events on tape. Once it shut, the only light emanated from his beamers on the front and back-ends. The light forming a clearing from the shroud of darkness in the room felt exactly like your memory. You knew where to go to learn the truth, and now, it felt like you didn’t know how to turn back.

In the passenger seat, the armrest between you and him wasn’t the only thing separating the two of you. From what Wally hinted at on the ride over, you two seemed to be on the same page last night, and he didn’t mean the textbook.

You sighed, piecing together your own path leading away from it all, “Do I really want to know what happened last night?”

“You definitely do. It was legendary!” Wally insisted.

“As long as it’s not embarrassing…”

If you went into his house, you ran the risk of remembering something you could have lived your whole life not knowing about; something you might end up wishing to forget. But the thought of what exactly happened was too tempting not to find out. How bad could it be? The only way to find out would be to watch it and see what looks like you do things you couldn’t recall.

Wally casually placed a hand on your thigh, “Hey, we were both pretty drunk. And after watching the tape this morning, I can confidently say, I would do everything on it all over again.”

“Pfft. You held the camera, I bet you’re barely in it.” His hand felt out of place, like seeing someone place their palm on an open burner on the stove. Any heat from before didn’t boil over into this morning, though, including your worries leading up to the moment you arrived at his house.

“I was basically your co-star! Here–let’s recreate it.” Wally hopped out the driver’s side of the lowrider, rounding the hood of the car and opening your door. He offered out a hand, but you didn’t take it.

His garage door didn’t stay closed for long, as he had the perfect plan to reenact the interaction that started it all.

“I’ll head in through the door in here, you go to the front door and I’ll be there to answer,” he directed. You did as he said, taking the little paved pathway to his house, picking up on the littlest of details in his front yard to see if anything rang a bell. Nothing. The same could be said as you knocked on his door–the vibrant red facing you with a gold handle and lock above it to fit a jagged-cut Clark house key. The anxious feelings you got standing at his door less than twenty-four hours ago didn’t pull your stomach into knots this time. It was like your body had lived through the feeling of resolve–maybe a forgotten rejection–but your head was still catching up to all of those feelings.

A few seconds went by and you heard the lock click out of place, followed by the door swinging open with the turn of the handle. He answered the door in the same way as he had before: an arm raised above his head, leaning against the door with it and greeting you with a wide smile. The only difference was his clothing. Last night, he donned dark-colored jeans and a forest-green jumper. Today, he wore a lighter shade of blue denim for his pants, mostly to keep it from clashing with his white tee-shirt and navy blue letterman jacket he earned from his dedication to football. On top of his head, he wore a black baseball cap, turned one-hundred and eighty degrees to face backward. There was one accessory missing that greeted you with its eye at the door as well–Wally’s camera. You remembered the video camera he had been waving around in your face when he answered the door. He claimed that it was a gift he received earlier that day and wanted to take it for a test run.

He practically used it as his way of seeing, his way of looking at you, and memorializing something as simple as studying. It felt a bit insincere the first time around like he was just doing it for the proof that he was a nice person to everyone, not just his football team. But right now, you felt more attended to, more cared for by his brown eyes not hidden behind a video camera. Even with his forgiving and welcoming nature, it couldn’t keep you from recalling the meandering conversation you had when you first arrived.

“Remember… anything?” He held the ‘er’ longer than the awkward silence lasted as he moved out of the doorframe, waiting for you to enter the lion’s den. You shook your head, “Just that your house is nice and all.”

The memories started to slowly fade in as he took you inside with him. His house let you in and welcomed you with a warm foyer, brightly lit from floor-to-ceiling windows and thin drapes pulled back to let the light seep in. The furniture, from the kitchen to the living room, looked well lived in, but it hadn’t lost that cozy feeling. There were still many more memories to make on them, but you were concerned about one in particular.

He led you to the same brown leather couch that you felt vaguely acquainted with, and you took a seat on the left end of the couch. He took the right side and left the middle cushion vacant. A mismatched, wavy-patterned chair sat turned to face the couch and the coffee table caught in the crossroads of both directions. You noticed the walls were white with pastel blue accents. Images of ships at sea and framed family photos fill the space between the windows in the room, which made it feel like Wally stared at you from every angle you could think of. Simply looking to the end table to your left brought him closer to you, and when you turned to look at the older version of the man in the photo, he had scooted over to the middle seat.

“I got the tape.” He said. Wally flashed the tape in your direction, looking proud of his creation. In those brief moments, you were able to see the word Sleepover crudely written in black Sharpie. He had already given a title to his film, and maybe you should have been happy that it wasn’t your name followed by the description of something abject.

“Well, put it in!” Your hands waved him off the couch and toward the large entertainment center. At first, it was easy to mistake it for a closet, but as Wally pulled away the two panels in the front, you knew it to house a boxy television. On the shelf below it is a VCR and it’s remote, and on the shelf below that, speakers.

While he put the tape in, you tried channeling any memory of last night from the couch, since you remembered it as the first landmark–besides his kitchen–that would mean anything to you. The note, the car, the couch, the drinks, the textbook–all things you went over and over again in your head, but couldn’t quite figure out what path they were inescapably leading towards. Spontaneity may have been your downfall here, as one unexpected factor revealed on the tape could change the direction the night had gone in. Wally reclaimed his seat on the couch, directly next to you. The tape whirred in the machine as its innards stretched and rolled around various corners to relay its evidence of last night.

The first minutes are nothing much to gawk at. Wally showed himself recording in a mirror, seemingly testing out the device until a knock played out. Holding the camera at chest height during your conversation, he answered his front door as expected. You exchanged greetings and he welcomed you inside.

“Where is everyone?” Watching the recording of yourself felt different. It wasn’t weird or confusing, but you started to notice things about yourself that you wish you could have done in a better manner.

Wally was hidden behind the camera as he spoke, keeping it focused on you. Maybe that’s why you noticed everything–because it was how he had seen it last night. His voice was louder than yours when he spoke thanks to how close the microphone on the camera was to him. “Oh, they’ll be here later. Is that good with you?”

“That’s fine. We’ll get a jump on studying.”

You wanted to cringe, is this how you really acted? Nervous and far too afraid to make a move that you sold yourself as a complete loser to compensate for it. This was a part you painfully remembered from last night but it looked better from your perspective. Looking at the observer to your right, he looked content with himself and the product he created.

You tried to hint that you wanted the jock to fast forward through this preluding embarrassment without giving away how you felt. If you were going to get embarrassed by things from last night, you might as well have seen the worst of it first. “Worst movie ever.”

“Ouch. Does that make me a bad director?” He played along.

“I think it’s just too boring, plus that one actor can’t say his lines right even if the script was in that book.” You note the textbook that you’re still holding on the screen, clutching it as if it were some kind of last-resort barrier between you and Wally. You refused to pay attention to what you were saying, so as not to feel more embarrassed. Thankfully, the director kept commentating over his home movie.

His gaze doesn’t break from the screen. “Harsh critic, I like it. Let me know what you think of the other lead, he seems pretty handsome.”

“It’s pretty bold to have the director star in his own film.”

“You’ll come around to the casting choices. There’s one scene later on that will blow your mind,” he smirked, looking over to you.

These were all things you remembered, and he didn’t seem to get the hint, so you asked him to skip ahead outright. “Mind fast-forwarding? To the good parts, I mean.”

Wally’s smirk dropped and he went back to following your command. He was supposed to be the one helping you live through your irretrievable actions, “Yeah, tell me when.”

Wally peeled himself from the couch, reaching for the remote and hitting one button on it a few times. The footage relayed across the screen became as much of a blur as it felt in your head. The speedy actions and jumps from when Wally would occasionally stop recording felt disorienting, but you noticed a brief flash of an alcohol bottle between shaky shots, “There!”

Wally’s stunning looks were on screen, and you deduced that you held the camera this time. You were in his kitchen, just one room over from his living room with a doorway connecting the two. The doorway, it was visible from your spot on the couch, located to the left of the television stand. Seeing the perspective of the camera made you think that you were standing relatively within the doorway, and Wally stood surrounded by the U-shape of his counter. The pearly white gloss of the counter reminded you of his smile–wide, perfect, everywhere.

The man with those pearly whites ducked below the counter to fetch a bottle of vodka–the sound of a small, whirring machine halting as a door opened played through the screen, suggesting that the Clarks had embellished a wine cooler into their base cabinets. Then, he reached up high to a pantry cabinet emerging from the wall, pulling out two shot glasses. The detail was fuzzy, but you could make out some various juices and zests already prepared for all the woo-woos and cold ducks two rebellious teenagers could want.

“What unit are we on again?” He asked, trying to make small talk.

You reminded him of what the teacher had written in chalk weeks ago. “Interpersonal attraction.”

“What’s that? I totally studied it, I just… forgot.” He said it as if it wasn’t his fault, and it still sounded virtuous as it re-rang in your ear from the stereo. A thought crossed your mind, that, maybe it wasn’t. He excelled at football and could get into college on that, so long as he steered clear of any injuries that would hold him back, which would mean that his grades just had to be good enough. Maybe he was simply a product of his environment, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.

“When someone only sees the positive side of things in a relationship,” you answered.

“I think this study session is going great.” He said while pouring the vodka into both shot glasses. He filled one higher than the other and rounded the counter with both in hand.

“That’s not it, and it really isn’t. We haven’t even gotten to the hard stuff yet.”

“I said I needed something to help us study. I positively think this will loosen you up a little.” Wally offered one of the shots to you, the last frame holding on his charming face.

The camera cut and the scenery around it changed again, but to something familiar. You were back in the living room you currently watched the tape in, but the table in front of you had been moved off to the side. His camera laid on top of it, capturing you and Wally sitting and facing each other, with your textbook on the ground, filling the distance between you and him. The bottle of alcohol had the cap twisted off, resting upright next to Wally, some cut-up limes scattered on a plate next to that, and your shot glasses next to them. Due to the quality of the camera, you couldn’t quite tell how much of the bottle was empty until Wally picked it up.

The angle at which he held it while decanting some into his glass answered your question. You and he must have made a dent in the bottle at that point, and your guard was likely lowered as you felt extremely comfortable around Wally. He topped off the shot glass with the clear courage. “If I get this wrong, this one’s yours.”

Expectedly, the question you fired his way was not met with an acceptable answer. Your mind was trying to think of each question like a teacher, how they would accept and consider his answer compared to other students’ responses. As you drank more due to his inability to take the class seriously, you started to slip away from that teacher mentality. This wasn’t the first time he wagered this bet, and it wasn’t the first time he lost, either. Whether it was intentional or on purpose, you held up your end of it. The video showed you preparing yourself for the shot, shaking out a smattering of salt from the castor, and readying yourself to drop the shot glass and lurch for the lime. Your hands felt almost shaky at his failure, knowing that you were bound to mess up the order of the steps.

He talked you through each step.

“Salt…” You could taste it on your tongue, even now. The same could be said for the saliva left on your hand from where you poured the salt out at.

“The shot…” The cold, thick rim of the glass felt indented into your lips. The feeling of the liquid going down your throat, burning as the dehydration set in lingered just the same.

“Then lime! Oh, yeah!” Wally cheered, looking proud of the teacher he had become to you.

You took a moment to let it sink in. Warmth on your face, soon to be everywhere. Courage building up from nothing into something that would perforate the cover of embarrassment.

Then, you looked down at the textbook. Your eyes alternated the pages beyond pages of information at your hands, having so much to pull from that you undoubtedly knew would be regurgitated on to the test, just less profoundly worded than its primary form. When you looked back up. . . had Wally always looked like that? His dark hair looked darker, and softer, like a fuzzy void to rake your fingers through. He did it just as the thought crossed your mind. No doubt he had to be feeling it, the way the buzz started to become the only voice in your head–a voice without reason, a voice known for speaking its mind.

“What three things make up the triangular theory of love?” You would have said it while halfway out the door, ready for embarrassment and tripping over your wordless apologies on the way out, but you were far too deep into his den to leave.

The answer was simple, and through the haze of last night, you still knew it–intimacy, passion, and commitment. Instead, he said, “You, me, naked.”

As you watched over yourself, you were taken aback by hearing his advances. But you were more ashamed of how you completely brushed it off less than a moment later. “Intimacy is one of them, yeah.”

“Okay, smart guy. I want to see you mess all these up.” He teased.

“You’re on.” He turned the textbook around so that it faced him, on your agreement.

“What is…” He flicked through a few pages and scanned over them briefly. “The reinforcement theory?”

“Uh, it’s when the person gets out something of equal or fair value in relation to what they put in.” You said, reciting it almost word-for-word as it was described on the page.

“Can you give me an example?”

It was hard not to utter the answer to yourself like you were watching a contestant on a game show, but even this one knew the million-dollar dinger. “An employee stays at their job because the pay–”

“A real example.” He interrupted. “Say… I kissed you. What could I get outta that?”

The confident and guided version of yourself from last night stood on their knees, almost crawling over to him as they could hardly keep themselves balanced. They looked so foreign yet so familiar–it was you without layers of fear and cowardice covering your most intimate feelings. Silence fell over the two of you as you fell into him, and then, the soft sound of kissing and pulling away played from the TV. The kiss felt straight out of a rom-com rental, but the moments following were pure and unabashed the-cashier-is-sure-to-check-your-ID-at-the- checkout pornography; you could tell when Wally’s jumper came off, and the kiss started to feel more heated than your face from the alcohol.

Next to you, you felt Wally slump forward on the couch, jutting out his hips. Your eyes stayed glued to the screen, almost entranced by what was happening, until you heard the sound of a zipper being undone. In your peripheral sights, Wally’s hands had undone his fly and the button of his jeans.

“Do you mind?” He asked. For a moment, you thought he meant the video. How he captured both of you embracing each other in a way that would be shown in Health class in the near future, likely titled Everything Not to Do In Sex. The headliner would be something along the lines of where not to touch your partner, as the actions playing out on screen were messy due to inexperience and the disorienting relaxation of being under the influence. He would probably end the viewing session by asking to smash the tape in his backyard or something along those lines, not what he had done instead.

“What–holy shit.” You turned to see his light blue denim and dark red boxers bunched further down along his thighs. He had his cock out, toying with it while it was still soft. His heavy balls sat low enough to rest on the cool leather of his brown couch, being pulled up as he tugged on his dick.

“What?” He refused to stop moving his hand. He kept going, almost at a faster pace when his eyes locked on to you in the present. Maybe you had everything all wrong. Wally wasn’t looking at this with regret, he wanted to enjoy last night. You knew he didn’t fully regret everything, as he stated earlier, but you thought he meant that he learned so much or had a fun night. Not this, and not with you of all people. What you were looking at felt like the result of a cheerleader helping the Split River Devils celebrate their big win of the night.

Your hand pointed out to the image displayed on the screen. Your eyes never once broke from his gaze as you spoke, “It’s me–it’s us–on screen.”

“I know,” he said. His voice stayed the same throughout.

You couldn’t fathom it–he liked it. “And you’re getting off to this?”

“We make a pretty good pair!” He tried to justify himself, finally breaking from the nonchalance to sound happy about it. You assumed that he must have not cared about whether or not you agreed with him, because he stood up seconds later. “Fuck, I have to make this feel better…”

You heard his footsteps grow quieter as he left the room, then returned with what sounded like a spring in his step. His dick flopped up and down as he paced around the couch and back to his proclaimed seat on the couch. In his hand is a silvery Pringles Light potato chip canister, emptied of its retail packaging and filled with two halves of a sponge to make a slit in the middle. “I’ve been blue-balling all morning since I saw this…”

And, suddenly, it became very, very real. He reached for some hand lotion on the table, squirting it into his fleshjack and then into his hand. He lathered the glob on his length, his hand finding a way to spread it along himself with only a few tugs. It was a sign that he was all for it, and you decided that you were, too. Before he could get too far into pleasuring himself, you offered him your hand. You placed it on his thigh, unsure of how far to go that would be considered too close. “I could help.”

“Really? No pressure or anything. I didn’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you, uh, see yourself doing.” He looked at the television again, and you thought that he might be right. If you felt differently about what you did last night after everything had already happened, you could leave. You could pretend that last night and the ensuing morning had never happened, and you could look at Wally the same as you always had–an unattainable crush.

“Really.” You affirmed, completely sure of doing something that you would never forget. The confidence from last night returned, your hand gravitating to his lotioned skin. It had barely sunk in, and it was slick on your hand, emitting a wet cry and earning a moan from Wally. You would have thought the lotion became astringent, as Wally’s thighs tensed and his breathing hitched.

“Are you okay?” You asked, hand freezing all movement on his warmth, but never letting go of it.

“Yeah, I’m just used to my hand doing this part.” He became familiar with it quickly, though. Your hand made haste with the motions of jerking him off. Wally tried to level himself out by slumping further down on the couch, making himself more of a flat canvas for your designs. “But I could get used to this.”

There was one feeling he couldn’t get enough of, though. As your hand skimmed up and down his shaft, it occasionally slipped up over the head of his mushroom tip and teased the sensitive surface. Every time that your hand happened to find its way to his peaking pleasure, his hips jerked up and brought your hand down his shaft, like a drop tower that wasn’t quite ready to plummet into the needy feelings of release. Wally groaned, his head rolling back on the upholstered support backing the leather backrest. His flipped cap nearly got pulled off the top of his head, a sign that could’ve been looked at as him losing his mind over how good it all felt.

You looked over at the screen, seeing things take a sharp turn as you had your legs spread over Wally’s thighs. His legs stuck out, used to the kind of stretching he found himself doing on the field for football practice, and you sat squarely on his upper thighs. One hand stayed glued to his face and slid down to his neck as you explored five percent of the surface, and your other hand journeyed into the deep blue of his jeans. The same hand cupped his growing heat; you could remember the faintest feelings of it now. When he became too big, too rigid for your hand to mold and keep from slipping through your fingers, your hand emersed from his denim confines. The motion kept flowing, though, when your ass had found a way to push him down as he presumably pushed up, an action you felt ready to mimic. His rudimentary fleshlight wouldn’t have to leave him wanting more, and you were sure to make it known.

While he was no longer new in the box, the barrier between the two of you gone and discarded in the recycling, you felt comfortable choosing to come out of yours. “I think I want you to fuck me.”

Just as you were about to step out of its confines, his words snaked around your wrists and tied you down to the box’s cardboard backing. Your motivation was restrained from where he drew the line. “Yeah, you might just want to use that sweet hand for now…”

“Why?”

“Uh, last night… we kind of did anal,” he groaned out. Suddenly, there was a cry from the TV that was unmistakably your voice, “I want you to fuck me!” Wally cleared his throat, “No, we definitely did.”

He stared down the television, entranced by its contents in a matter of seconds. The exact thing he said started to unfold. In the drunken misguidance, he had forgone lube to make the blur tinting his hindsight go a little bit faster. He carried the camera along his body until he held it in front of his face like he had when he first greeted you at the door. There was a slow, disorienting rise as he stood, showing just how tall he was. It was like the peak of the drop tower, when your stomach would twist into knots from knowing what was about to happen. You moved into frame, rubbing the bulge in his jeans as your hands rounded the waistband around to his backside, pulling his denim down.

From the view of its eye, it peered down at his torso wrapped in green knits, his cock quickly springing out and sharing the stage with your face right next to it. It was clear that your box had been perforated, and he was the cause of it.

“Oh, oh fuck. This is my favorite part–too bad my dick looks so fucking small. The TV just doesn’t do it justice, I mean come on! Look at how big it is!”

He must have been referring to the lingering shot of his dick. The camera was still panned down from Wally’s perspective to show his cock at full fuckable potential. He got up and stood next to the image of his dick, comparing the two. Just the sight of the one on his TV made you nervous, but shifting your gaze slightly reminded you that he was painfully bigger than he looked on camera. Eight millimeters of a film reel was such a small space to capture such a big thing on screen, and his twenty-six-inch TV could only do so much to blow up the image.

The picture went dark, and black filled the screen. Wally covered the camera and gave you stage directions on the tape. “Get on the couch, all fours. No. Yeah, yeah–like that.”

You felt a warmth press into your side, Wally rejoining you on the couch again. He held his hands up in the air like he was guilty of a charge you weren’t pressing, “Sorry, not my best work, I know.”

His hand pulled away from the lens. The quality was hazy, indiscernible in some things that it captured as the kitchen light behind Wally blocked his face. But you’re on full display, arching into his touch.

Wally tugged on his cock a few times before seizing all movement, “I could take you up on a handy–fuck, maybe a beej?”

“It might not feel as good as, you know.” You said, quickly averting your eyes from the television by fully shifting your body around and onto the floor. His legs were spread by habit but were now parted by necessity as you kneeled between them.

“A hole’s a hole, I won’t complain.”

His gaze only rested on you for a second, to line himself up at the sweet spot. The point of entry, a familiar place for his dick–your body–but a new place to explore–your mouth. He made sure you were on track to take him all the way down without teeth or a gag reflex getting in the way. One trip down to the base of his cock and he was already looking away, continuing the motion with a more forceful pace to make up for what he was missing.

He looked head-on at the sex tape, seeing the view of the camera as he tried to evoke as much of the feelings from last night from its point of view. Wally imagined the wet, shlurking mouth in front of him was your hole, ready to give the same abuse he gave to your ass last night. Kind words echoed from the TV. He was talking you through the pain and happily giving you pleasure when you started bouncing on his cock. He planned to mimic it at the moment, spouting on about ‘how good you took him’ and praises alike.

Then, he saw himself slamming his hips into you on the screen, your ass smacking against his hips in a way that really demonstrated just how fast he was going. Coupling it with your cries to go ‘harder!’ as you took him, he did it from your past command. You couldn’t speak with a mouthful of him, but he treated it as something you wanted now. Wally shot up from the couch, standing and taking you with him.

His eyes were trained on the screen, moaning as his hands took over from your control. In your peripheral vision, he had propped a leg up on the coffee table to fuck, not just guide you down his length. He would have done the same with his fleshlight and your hole–bending them over the table and fucking them senseless. Your mouth, and now as he reached it, your throat, were treated like those two. His hiked leg flexed and he jutted his hips forward, his pubes bristling your nose and his swinging balls plapping against your chin. Soon, as he plowed your mouth, the sound of him face-fucking you overtook the sex on the screen.

It wasn’t until the sound of you blowing a load of hot white over his chest as he did the same inside of you did he feel fully immersed in last night’s acts. He buried himself deep in your throat one final time and made you swallow what you could, taking a minute to register that he wasn’t fucking your ass.

His hands let go of your head and you pulled off, his come running down your chin and dripping onto him and the carpet. “Jesus, that was a lot…”

Wally handed you some tissues that he must have been expecting to use after watching this tape–since this wasn’t a film worth crying over–and patted the spot on the couch next to him. “How do you feel? Sorry if that was too rough.”

“You’re good, just throw in a warning next time?” You took a few tissues out of the box and cleaned up what you could. Wally filled his expected place on the couch, redressing himself quickly. He leaned towards the table he had just finished using as leverage to fuck your mouth with to get the remote. Silence filled the room as he paused the last few minutes of the tape.

“Deal,” he agreed. You took a seat in his lap this time after cleaning up, “So, is the ending gonna ruin the whole thing?”

“I, I wouldn’t recommend watching it.”

“Seriously? We basically watched the whole thing, let’s see it!” You took the remote from him, hitting the button shaped like a triangle to let it play.

Wally started speaking almost right after the sex on-camera was over, “How do you feel? Owned? Like a good boy–”

Wally lifted the neck of his letterman, burying his face into it as he heard himself say those words. It was good to know he wasn’t happy about everything from last night, but you kind of liked hearing him say it. At least you had proof to get him to do it again.

You were quick to cut him off, though. “Like I’m gonna hurl.”

You swiped the remote from the table, pausing it just as you walked out of frame. “I left because I puked?” “Motion sickness. My fault, some people just can’t handle a long ride.”

#x male reader #x reader #gay #fanfiction #wally clark #wally clark x you #wally clark x reader #wally clark x male reader #wally clark x male!reader #fanfic #milo manheim x male reader #milo mannheim #milo manheim x reader #can milo manheim get some recognition puh lease #school spirits x male reader

620 notes · View notes

cheollipop · 10 months

Text

soybean stew

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x afab!reader

w.c.: 5.5k

tags: smut, fluff, so much fluff, and even more fluff, established relationship, reader is not gendered, san is so in love, he's so in love!!!! and it's so fluffy!!! and he can cook, but he's a little clumsy, did I mention the fluff?

trudging back home after your final exam, wanting nothing but to sink into bed and sleep through the next three years, san welcomed you with a warm bath and a home-cooked meal. and even as the moon fell to make way for the morning rays, he continued to shower you with his never-ending love.

warnings: beware!!! the fluff may be deadly, reader is not gendered (afab), morning sex, lovemaking, oral sex (f), fingering (f), unprotected sex (👎), multiple orgasms (m), multiple creampies, overstimulation, praise, edging, orgasm denial (only for a bit), nicknames (sannie; love, darling, sweetheart, baby), very sappy, so many kisses, like....a lot, san gets so desperate at one point...oh lord, so whiny too, and so in love :(

A/N: this has been a wip since april and I kinda abandoned it because uni was beating my ass,, buuut I figured it would be a great (belated) birthday fic for san!! (´ ε ` )♡ and happy birthday to my favourite himbo ^^ happy reading! please consider reblogging/leaving feedback if you enjoy my work~ ><

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

Your soaked sneakers slammed over the pavement, splashing into the puddles of rainwater showering the Earth. The umbrella you held onto for dear life did nothing to protect you from the downpour, your lower half left helpless to the droplets the wind pushed at it, darkening your jeans to match the overcast sky under which you were walking. The revision notes felt heavy in the bag slung over your shoulder, and you wanted nothing but to burn them and have a barbeque over the flame to celebrate the end of your semester.

Dragging your sore body through the streets and into the shelter of your apartment building, you found yourself out of breath by the time you arrived at your front door. Your arm felt like deadweight as you raised it to unlock your door with languid movements. You lugged your body through the entrance and into the joint living area and kitchen, eyes falling on the tall figure of Choi San, all broad shoulders and glowing skin, swaying his hips to the music playing from his phone, masking the jingle of your keys. A sudden rush of energy – though miniscule – pushed you towards the man, your arms snaking around his waist, his body jolting in your hold and the ladle in his hand rising in defense with a throaty scream.

“Ah! (Y/n)- Fuck-” He slumped over the stove, the steam from the bubbling pot brushing over the smooth skin of his face. “You scared me, sweetheart,” he laughed breathlessly.

You managed a half-hearted apology and a giggle as you pressed your head to his bicep to watch as tofu and an array of vegetables danced in the brownish broth, the pleasant aroma making your stomach rumble against San’s back. He laughed to himself, dropping the ladle into the pot and twisting his body to face you, his arms encircling your shoulders and bringing you closer to his body.

“The jjigae needs a while longer to be ready,” he brushed his hand over the back of your head. “I should’ve started cooking earlier, sorry.”

You leaned in to press a kiss to his pouty lips and shook your head, an easy smile stretching your mouth. It baffled you how you were barely conscious a few minutes ago, but upon laying your eyes on San, wrapping yourself up in his arms, inhaling the uniqueness of his scent – a blend of bergamot and sage, with a hint of baby powder – you felt revived, ready to conquer the world (even though a certain man with broad shoulders and a pretty smile would fight every entity that opposed you before you had the chance to lift a finger).

“I don’t mind waiting,” you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth before leaning away to admire the stupid smile on his face, his eyes glowing with unrivaled adoration.

“How about I run you a bath, hm? Dinner should be done by the time you finish.” His fingers rubbed small, warming circles over the damp material of the coat you didn’t bother shrug off upon entry, too engrossed in greeting your boyfriend.

You nodded, an easy smile twisting the corners of your lips as you swayed gently in San’s arms. He took you in, from the way the wind had left your locks dishevelled to the dark circles under your weary eyes. San could see your mismatched socks through the slight gap separating your bodies. They weren’t even similar colours—proof of how exhausted you actually were. He cupped your jaw, and you felt the drag of the bandages wrapped around two of his fingers across your cheek. You grabbed his hand and held it in front of you, shooting a glare at him while he sheepishly looked to the side. Injuries were inevitable when you leave a man who can’t even walk straight alone with a sharp knife. Though, scolding San for hurting himself while doing something so thoughtful was not within your capabilities. The guilt would eat at your insides for weeks until it left a hollow cavity brimming with rue and self-condemnation.

You brought the bandaged fingers to your lips, pressing tender kisses to the wounded skin. “Thank you, Sannie,” you gently spoke. For everything you do for me, you silently added. And the smile on San’s face told you he understood.

He had every little detail about you engraved into his mind, from the blemishes decorating your skin to the way your eyes spoke to him when putting your thoughts into words proved to be a task too difficult. You sometimes felt like San knew you better than you did yourself, recognizing exactly what you need before you even had the chance to think about it. And whenever you felt self-conscious about not being as perceptive, San was quick to assure you that you did more than enough for him, that your smile alone could solve all his predicaments.

San led you to the bathroom, turning away from you as you began to strip. He sat at the edge of the bathtub, switching on the water and holding his hand under the tap until he deemed it warm enough, plugging the drain and getting up. Turning back around, San’s eyes fixed on your exposed skin while he blindly reached for the cabinet, tracing the swell of your breasts and the curvature of your waist, blinking slowly as he felt saliva pooling in his mouth at the sight of you before him.

And then he met your eyes, freezing in place when you raised a questioning eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat – a little louder than he’d intended – and hoped you wouldn’t notice the bright red tinting his cheeks as he desperately scrambled to grab onto the handle, flinging the cabinet door open and effectively hiding his face behind the wood. You stifled a laugh, shoving your clothes into the laundry basket while San rummaged through the items stored underneath the sink, pulling out a rose-shaped bath bomb. He stood back up, smiling like an idiot when he turned to face you again, the previous timidity nowhere to be seen as he ogled your bare body with newfound confidence.

“You’re insufferable,” you grimaced, shying away from his gaze.

He breathed out a laugh, the fondness glimmering in his eyes sending a wave of warmth through your body and straight to your heart, sensing as it swelled with adoration. You wondered what you might have done in a previous life that deemed you deserving of Choi San—a man who never failed to make you feel loved, cherished, wanted.

“Stop it,” you whined when San’s eyes remained on you, though not moving off your face.

“It’s hard to look away from you, darling,” he swooned, putting his arms up to protect himself from the towel you threw his way, a soft chuckle echoing in the bathroom.

You waited for him to turn his back to you before allowing the smile you’d been holding back to sneak onto your face, tilting your head down to shield it from view. San didn’t bother hiding his own, dimples sinking into his cheeks as he dropped the bath bomb into the tub, watching it fizz and leak a soft shade of pink into the water.

“Let me know if the water’s too hot,” San spoke, making his way back to you.

He held your face in his hands, pressing his lips to your forehead before pulling away with an easy smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes. You hummed a ‘thank you,�� passing San to step into the water, jolting when a warm palm landed on your ass, the sound reverberating between the walls.

“Yah!” You yelled and watched as the culprit escaped, leaving behind a trail of high-pitched giggles to keep you company.

You shook your head, a smile on your lips, and continued your descent into the warm bath. You relaxed your body, sighing contently when the water brushed the tip of your nose, feeling the weariness of this past month melt away into nothing.

San placed two bowls of rice down on the dining table beside a pair of empty ones, walking back to the stove to grab the bubbling pot of stew. The distant roar of the hairdryer stopped, and the bathroom door swung open down the hall. You walked out, a trail of steam following you as you made your way to the kitchen to watch San place the pot down on the wooden table. He straightened up and an easy smile took over his lips when his eyes landed on you—dressed in one of his hoodies, your cheeks flushed from the warm bath. You found yourself rushing into his open arms, burying your face into San’s chest and making a home in his cordial embrace. He nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo and pressing a kiss to your hair.

San placed another peck to your temple before pulling away and leading you to a chair, pulling it out, and waiting for you to sit down before pushing it back in. You shook your head and huffed out a laugh at the simple, yet endearing gestures engraved so deeply into San’s mannerisms. You’d thought they would’ve stopped after a couple months of dating, but here you were, quite a few years in and he remained the gentleman you had fallen in love with on a windy autumn afternoon.

San walked around the table and took the seat across from you, reaching for the ladle and pouring stew into one of the empty bowls, handing it to you before filling up his own. You smiled, inhaling the steam dancing above your bowl, exhaling with a deep, happy hum. You picked up your spoon, scooping up some of the rice and dipping it into the stew before bringing it to your mouth. You blew on it, aware of San’s eyes on you, gauging your reaction as you chewed on the food.

“Be honest,” he spoke, the smile on his lips carrying a hint of tension and anxiety.

You knew he cared the most about your opinion, and wanting nothing but to see the dimples sinking into his cheeks, you fluttered your eyes shut and swayed your body from side to side while humming exaggeratedly. “Mmm! Sannie, this is the best meal I’ve ever had!”

You reached across the table to cover his hand with your palm, and he didn’t waste time flipping it over and giving yours a squeeze. The smile stretching his lips nearly split his face open, a bright red colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “It’s my mum’s recipe,” he scratched at his nape with his free hand.

You felt your chest well up with infatuation, fondness, love. Choi San occupied every inch of your being, and he was wholly unaware of it all—the effect he had on you, how you melted into putty in hands whenever he smiled your way. The gentle touches, the sappy flirting. He drove you crazy at times, and you wondered when you became greedy, wanting to rob the dimpled man of every last drop of his love.

“Well, you did it justice. It’s delicious,” you mirrored the smile he was giving you.

Your fingers remained entwined throughout dinner, even when San directed his spoon towards you, shoveling half of his own portion into your mouth despite your complaints. You tried doing the same, but for every spoon you pushed past his lips, he fed you two back until you were on the verge of exploding, swearing on every living family member you had that another bite would make your heart stop. San only laughed, extending his free arm to brush away the grain of rice stuck to the corner of your mouth, leaning back and sucking the food off his thumb with a coy smile.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the flash of warmth coursing through your body at the action. You were so adorable, San thought, getting up when you did, plastering himself to your back and waddling with you to the living room. You held onto his arms where they were crossed around your chest, stopping by the couch before unwinding your limbs and twisting around to face him. With his hands on your waist, San urged you closer until your arms wrapped around his neck, leaning down to press his mouth to yours.

The kiss was soft, your lips slotting perfectly over each other while you shared your body heat, your fingers tangling in the hair at San’s nape and lightly scratching at the skin. San parted from you only to place tender pecks over your pouted lips, trailing his own over the plushness and to your cheeks, nuzzling his nose against them before pulling away. He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees met the couch, dropping you gently onto the cushion. You found yourself wrapped in your favourite blanket before you could complain about San's hands not being on you, tucked into the corner of the couch with a movie playing on the TV. With a kiss to your forehead and a whispered “I’ll be right back,” San walked back to the kitchen, giggling menacingly at your displeased grumbling.

San’s hips swayed while he loaded the dishwasher, his thoughts revolving around a certain individual impatiently waiting for him on the couch. An individual he was helplessly infatuated with, having built his future in his mind around them—around their interests, their occupation, their preferred paint colour, their desired pet, whether he’d have to build a cot at some point in his life. He rinsed down the spoons while thinking back to the first time he saw you—sat on a bench under the yellowing tree, bright red and orange colouring the dying leaves. How lucky he was, San thought, to still be looked at the same way by the person he was in love with. All starry eyes and warm smiles, as though he’d built you a kingdom with nothing but his calloused hands.

Slipping off his bright pink rubber gloves, he made his way past the dining table and into the living area, his bare feet padding across the carpeted floor and stopping right in front of your sleeping figure. He mooned over your resting face for a few moments, the TV playing idly in the background as he studied the soft furrow of your eyebrows, the gentle grip you had on the corner of the blanket in which you were wrapped up in, the thin line of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto the cushion under your head. San's fist tightened in resistance, the squeal tickling the base of his throat fighting to be let out as he barely held back the aggressive stomps. Everything about you drove him insane, even when you were doing something as simple as fulfilling a basic human need. He took you in for longer than he’d wish to confess, trailing his eyes over every inch of your face before snapping out of the trance he’d found himself in, a dribble of saliva leaving his own mouth while fondness brimmed in his chest.

He scooped you up in his arms, careful not to awaken you, small, light steps carrying him to your shared bedroom. Abruptly stopping in the middle of the hallway, San bit down on his bottom lip and squeezed his eyes shut when you nuzzled your face into his chest, resisting the urge to cover your face in kisses. His grip on you tightened and he willed his legs to move, taking a few – slightly hurried – strides through the hallway and into your room.

Delicately placing you under the covers, San untangled you from the fluffy blanket and threw it over the duvet—the night grew cold now that winter was inching closer. He made a quick work of his clothes, throwing on a hoodie not strained with splotches of soybean paste before slipping into bed. His arm naturally slid under your head, his other arm snaking around your waist and tucking you into his chest, a satisfied exhale blowing out of your nose. Sleep found him fleetly, hints of rose mixing with your natural scent to surround him with familiar amenity, your body soft and pliant against his. Pressing his lips to your forehead, San wrapped himself around you and allowed the gentle tugs of slumber to shut his eyes, his last thoughts circling around the person in his arms, hoping the next day would come quickly, wanting nothing more but to drown them in his affection.

Streaks of gold filtered through the chiffon curtains, the sheer material futile against the aurous beams of light revering the start of the new day. Peeking your eyes open, you blinked away the contrasting brightness of your room, shadows splayed over the disordered sheets and a warm body plastered to your side. San’s head lay lower on the pillow, his exhales blowing over your neck, features softened in tranquility while his chest rose and fell with each breath. You wondered if he was dreaming of you.

Your shoulders felt light, your breathing easy, and the stress of assignments and exams gone with the moonless night, the new sun casting shadows over the face tucked into your neck. San had been so patient with you, planning dates around your busy schedule and racking up the phone bill as he pulled recipe after recipe from his mother every evening. While you were too immersed in reading articles, San made sure you didn’t skip meals, that your water bottle was always full and sitting on the right side of your desk, that your shared home remained clean, that the knots in your shoulders never wound too tight, his delicate fingers working over your muscles as you clung to his torso at night. And though he never deprived you of his affection, you felt an untamable need for him, a wildfire burning in your gut as you took in his resting features.

You started off gentle, your lips feathering over San’s temple and down to his cheekbone, quickly growing frustrated at the continued evenness of his breath. So the needy, openmouthed kisses began, leaving a thin sheen of saliva in the shape of your lips reflecting the morning rays, your fingers brushing dark strands off his forehead to plant kisses there as well. You felt his nose twitch as you pecked down the bridge, the subtle pouting of his lips curling the corners of yours.

Your hands made their way under San’s sleep shirt, your nails dragging over his spine before splaying your palms out to feel the warmth of his skin. You threw your leg over his hip, shuffling closer to his body and trailing your lips down to his cupid’s bow. “Sannie,” kiss, “wake up,” kiss.

He peeked an eye open to look at you, quickly shutting it as he stretched out his limbs, a deep groan echoing in his chest. He relaxed back in your arms, blinking his eyes in quick succession to peer at you with hints of his dream still playing in his head.

“’Morning,” he mumbled, the rasp in his voice only adding to your need for him, his knuckles running over the slope of your jawline.

You leaned down to kiss him again, a slow dancing of lips while the thrushes and blackbirds sang a melody on your windowsill. San was still waking up, you knew that, yet you couldn’t help but nestle closer, holding his face and nuzzling your nose into the side of his as you deepened the kiss. It took him a few seconds to notice your restlessness, your hand slipping off his jaw to run over his sides, sliding under the hem of his shirt and squeezing at the flesh of his waist.

Shaking the last of his drowsiness away, he rolled your bodies sideways until he had you on your back, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and lust. San knew you better than you knew yourself, you remembered as he leaned over you to press a firm, closemouthed kiss to your lips, followed by a trail of tender pecks down your neck. “What’s got you so needy this early in the morning?”

You could feel his smile on your skin as he peppered your neck with kisses, dragging his teeth over your pulse point. “Missed you,” you breathed out, fingers curling around the material hugging his broad shoulders. “Want you.”

San hummed, low in his throat, “I’m here, I’m all yours.” His hands coasted over your sides and down to your hips to hook his fingers into your waistband, slowly sliding off your bottoms and panties in one go, his lips pressing over every inch of newly exposed skin.

Your pants and his haphazardly thrown behind him, San ran both hands down your inner thighs to spread you open, slotting himself between your legs and leaning over you to dot kisses over your jawline and cheeks. “Can I taste you, my darling?”

The rough material of his boxers pressed against your mound, your vision blurring at the friction. “But I want you,” you whined, sliding a hand down his back and resting it over his firm ass to pull him closer.

“Just for a little bit,” he kissed at your pouty lips, grinding his hips into you, the hard outline of his cock straining against the thin fabric. “Please? ‘Wanna feel you on my tongue.”

A shiver ran through you, and you nodded hesitantly, watching as San descended your body with a muttered ‘thank you.’

‘Just for a little bit’ faded into the illuminated dust swimming in the air around you, your mind disconnecting from reality the moment San’s lips found your pussy. It felt like hours in a realm of ecstasy, hot arousal gushing out of you with every suck to your clit, your vision blurring when thick fingers breached your entrance. San lapped at your cunt like a starved man, his tongue flattening over your swollen nub while you desperately rolled your hips over his face, exhaling breathy moans as you neared your high for the nth time, only for him to anchor you down on the mattress with an arm over your lower belly, retracting his tongue to press tender kisses over and around your slit.

“No, no,” you whined as your orgasm dwindled, tears pooling in your eyes and your hands tugging at his dark strands, attempting to push his face back onto you. His fingers curled inside you, pushing up into your g-spot to remind you of their presence, hips slowly rutting into the sheets under him. “Sannie, please.”

He slipped out of you to trail soft kisses along the heated skin as he journeyed up your body, pressing his lips to the pout on yours before pulling away to take you in—all teary eyes and slick skin, gilded under the early rays. Strong arms enclosed around you, soft tufts of dark hair tickling the side of your neck as San dipped his head onto your shoulder. Inhaling deeply, he breathed in the familiar scent of your bodywash, a hint of your shampoo tickling his senses as he basked in your warmth. A muttered echo of his name broke him away from you, his lips parting off your skin to allow a string of curses exit, his leaking cock now burrowed between your folds, cockhead teasing over your clit. “Are you ready for me, love?”

Your frantic nodding and pleas brought a smile to his face, lowering himself over you again to gather you into his arms, his hand sliding between your bodies to align himself with your waiting cunt. Your hips jumped when his thick girth breached your entrance, your nails dragging down San’s spine at the gradual stretch. Feathery pecks turned into open-mouthed kisses over your face, San’s heavy breaths interrupted by the comforting gesture. He trailed his lips down your jaw to nuzzle his nose into the skin below your ear, his pants growing into shaky moans when his cock fully sheathed within you, the gentle squeeze of your walls around him shaking his body with violent shivers.

“Please move,” you tried, rolling your hips in protest, and San’s hands scrambled to stop you.

“W-wait, fuck-”

His body convulsed atop yours, a gravelly grunt ripping through his chest as a familiar warmth spread through your lower belly. His cock twitched inside you, spurting pathetic ropes of cum while he curled in on himself, shuddering as his orgasm washed over him unexpectedly with repeated apologies on his tongue. Your hand smoothed over his back, rubbing soothing circled into his skin while he recovered, imagining the bright red coating the cheeks he was hiding from you.

“San?”

He hummed, his voice small.

“Can you look at me?”

He shook his head, soft strands grazing over your skin at the motion.

“Why not?”

He paused, and you could feel the warmth of his face on your shoulder, “’m embarrassed,” he mumbled.

Your palms cupped his heated cheeks, prying him off your skin and holding his head above you to look at him properly. Teary, half-lidded eyes stared back at you, flushed cheeks squished inwards and his lips pouted in chagrin. You guided his face down to yours, pressing comforting kisses over his eyebrow and temple, “no need to be embarrassed, love.”

He huffed out a breath, tilting his head to slot his lips over yours, leaving a chaste kiss on your mouth before wrapping his arms around you to bring you into his chest. His hips began rolling into yours before you could question it, a breathy moan blowing over San’s collarbone as his cock glided over your walls.

“Missed you so much,” he planted a kiss on the side of your neck, “couldn’t help it, ‘felt so good,” he rambled into your skin.

You could feel his cock chubbing up inside you again, San’s soft grunts echoing in your ear as he pushed through the overstimulation. Languid grinding turned into pointed thrusts, rough palms running over the outside of your thighs and guiding them around his waist, waiting until your feet locked at the small of his back before readjusting his angle. With San’s body covering yours and his mouth on your neck, he aimed his cockhead at your g-spot with shallow drives into your sopping heat. He grazed his teeth over your pulse point, a shiver running through you as he littered an array of faint bruises over the column of your throat. In a couple hours, your skin would become a palette of blues and purples, and San would sheepishly scratch at his neck while you reprimanded him for his messy colouring.

San’s cock stilled inside you, moving only to glide the remainder of his length between your fluttering walls. “Where did you go?” Of course he’d caught you zoning out. “I thought I'd get you all to myself now that you were done with exams,” the pout on his lips pulled at your heart strings.

Your fingers ran through his hair, and you leaned upward to peck at his lips, “you have me, Sannie, I’m all yours.”

San smiled, sliding a hand under you to cup the back of your head, catching your lips in a kiss laced with the thick essence of yearning and lust—as though he couldn’t bare part with you ever again, not even to grab a glass of water. “Mine, mine, mine,” he recited against your lips, moving down to pepper kisses over the bruises painting your skin. “Gonna fuck you so full, sweetheart, ‘make sure everyone knows you’re my sweet baby.”

Your hand reached down to his thigh, grazing the soft skin and trailing upward until your palm cupped his plump ass, urging his hips forward and into your cunt. “Want it, please, want you so bad.”

His lips found yours, parting to run his tongue over your cupid’s bow before planting soft, delicate kisses over the corners of your mouth. Your nails dug into the flesh of his ass, eyes rolling back as he pounded into you with boiling desperation. Utterances of ‘missed you’ vibrated over your skin, your chests flush and nipple grazing over each other every time San bucked into you, his words broken-up by airy moans. Through the thick haze coating your brain, you recognized the tingle in your stomach warning you of your impending orgasm, San’s frantic hands touching every patch of skin available to him, his teeth nibbling on the skin of your collarbones while he fucked into you uncontrollably.

“Gonna cum,” he breathed out, lifting his head to take you in with glassy eyes. “Hngh! ‘Missed you so fucking much,” he pulled you into his chest, only to lean back two second later to admire your fucked-out expression—staring back at him with hooded eyes, pleasure soaring through your body and disrupting every thought, San’s relentless pace as he hammered his cock into your pulsating cunt barreling you closer to the edge. “So perfect,” he pushed the damp hair off your forehead. “Gonna fuck you full, darling, can I? ‘Wanna give you all I have,” he babbled, slurring his words as tears welled up in his eyes, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

“Nghh! G-give it to me, Sannie,” you tightened your legs around him, pushing him further into you and clenched around him.

San’s hips stuttered, his steady rhythm replaced with erratic pounding, his cock filling you up before slipping out, only to thrust back into you without relent. The edging, San’s mouth on your clit, his fingers stuffed inside you, only to pull away every time you came close to an orgasm, and now, his cock pressing into you g-spot while his pelvis grinded over your sensitive nub—you weren’t sure which factor pushed you over the edge, except you found yourself tumbling down a verdant, sunlit hill, wildflowers and dandelions sweeping over your skin in your descent. Your vision blurred, the silhouette of a man brimming with adoration going in and out of focus, the soft melody of moans and echoes of your name reverberating in the back of your mind as your orgasm finally rushed through you, your nerves aflame and body jolting over the soiled sheets.

For what felt like hours, he guided you through your high. Leisurely grinds of his hips, rocking back and forth with his cock sheathed deep within you, even after ropes of white joined the previous load he’d fucked into you, your bodies spasming together as tinges of overstimulation mingled with pleasure. His eyes scanned your face, studying the subtle shifts in your features while his hands roamed your body—from the twitch of your eyebrow to the upward curl of your mouth; palms dipping into the contour of your waist, and curving over the slope of your hips, holding you delicately while you trembled in his arms. He slipped out of you at the first whimper leaving your lips, his muscles slackening as the shots of pleasurable pain subsided.

The mattress jumped, San’s body falling sideways into the space beside you, his arms instantly working on tugging you closer to him, inhaling the flowery scent of your shampoo while digging his fingers into the knots in your back.

San’s soft humming carried on until the sun found its locus in the cloudless sky, the rays sharp where they snuck through the gap in your curtains. You slipped in and out of consciousness, the warm body cradling you and the patterned rise and fall of its chest spreading a veil of tranquility over the quiet room. The peacefulness resided even as San pulled you out of bed and into the shower, washing off the sweat and grime with wandering hands and impish touches, high-pitched giggles and squeals echoing between the tiled walls.

It felt like deja’vu, finding yourself curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, except this time, San’s firm body enveloped yours while you sipped on your coffee, feline eyes moving off the TV every time you brought the mug to your lips, watching their subtle pout as you swallowed down the steaming liquid. His gaze flitted lower, examining the splashes of purple and blue decorating your neck with a fond—and slightly cocky—smile stretching his lips.

You remained entrapped within each other’s warmth, the sunlight shifting hues every other hour, from a burning yellow to a warm orange, mixing with magenta and rose when the orb of light neared the horizon. Characters moved around on the large screen: Mulan, then Rapunzel, and now Ariel, the baritone of San’s voice harmonizing with the various ballads blasting through the speakers, your hearty giggles filling up the room when he slipped away from you to dance along with Sebastian to ‘Under the Sea.’

Securing him back in your arms, you watched the rest of the movie in peace, humming the remaining songs and arguing who would get to be the purple mermaid next time you went swimming, the empty bowls of leftover jjigae resting idly on the coffee table, their ceramic reflecting the changing hues of the dying sun.

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manicpixiefelix · 4 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 10.

Summary: The last few days of the year at Oxford! Celebrations to be had, but also you contemplate what may come next for Oliver once the semester ends. Meanwhile, in a brief moment of downtime, you try and discuss Felix's weirdness from before exam season, but he can and will try and seduce you instead of having a real adult conversation. But unfortunately he may have had a point, because that real, adult conversation fucking sucks.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: discussions of oliver's father dying, discussions of jealousy

A/N: 5623 words. wrote this directly after finishing ch 9. and then was like, what if i edited this. which means the ending of this chapter is COMPLETELY different to what it was originally, and is a bit of a downer. but we need conflict, you know? and sometimes its genuinely hard to have these adult conversations at like 21 years old. emotions and such. also there's a wizard hat. half edited then i completely rewrote the ending and that's absolutely unedited. how are we feeling about leaving oxford finally????

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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It's always a big deal when the first years finish all of their exams and get their final results. Or, well, the rest of the students make a big deal about it. You're not sure who started the tradition, or how long ago, but it's a tradition you hold dear to your heart nevertheless. The first year of university is nothing if not overwhelming, survival of it was to be celebrated.

Last year the cheering crowd of your more senior students had made you feel like you had conquered the world. This year, you were bursting at the seams with excitement to be able to share in the tradition from the other side, especially since there were several first years in particular you wanted to celebrate with.

Everything about the tradition seemed tailor made for your brand of joy. It's bright bits of costuming and ticker tape canons, balloons and medals for the undoubtably exhausted first years. Clustered together by the main doors of the examination school, you and your friends press yourselves against the barriers that had been put up to give all the first years enough space. Still, front and centre, many of you, yourself and Felix included, had been handed medallions to give to first years, while the rest were all still clutching each other and giggling with excitement, reminiscing about how loved you'd all felt at this time last year, seeing everyone cheering for all you'd accomplished.

For the past few days since your exams had finished, those in your group particularly committed to the bit, you and Felix among them, naturally, had been frequenting as many of the local charity and party shops in town. Each of you were desperately searching for delightfully garish garments and props to wear and share.

The moment Felix had spotted the sparkly, pink cowboy hat on a mannequin, paired with a violently lavender feather boa, he'd clung to them like his life depended on him owning them, hearts in his eyes, absolutely refusing to let them go. On the other hand, the sailor hat for Ollie was your idea; something more understated for a man more understated than either Felix or yourself. While Felix wanted to protest, wanted to give him something a little more flashy, you thankfully got him to compromise by allowing him to pick your accessories. Which is how you ended up with a hot pink, bedazzled 'Mother Of The Bride' sash.

And a blue, pointy wizard hat.

Anticipation grew in the gathered crowd, all chatter and smiles and giggling as you waited for the doors to open. In amongst the growing noise, you turn the medal over in your fingers, gazing at it with pride, excited to be able to be the one to give it to one of your closest friends. You still have your own from last year, usually pinned above your desk, but right now in a box ready to be taken back to Saltburn for the Summer.

The moment you all heard the tell-tale creak of those large, wooden doors, the cheering began, and you're glad to be pulled from your thoughts and back into the moment. It grew into a cacophony, a roar of joy and delight as the ticker tape canons went off and the first years streamed out in a river of excitement.

Farleigh's always cut a defined figure in any crowd he's in, considering his height, but you'd also given him the heads up to look out for the blue wizard hat to find you. At first you saw him scanning the crowd, but it takes him barely a second to find you. He lights up, eyes fixed on your stupid hat, and he breaks away from the pack at a full sprint. He doesn't even let you give him his medal at first, he's laughing at the top of his lungs, reaching all the way over the barrier to pull you into a hug, almost dragging you over the railing. There's nothing to be said, only a joy that has gone beyond words.

"You're a wizard!" He finally manages amid laughter as he lets you go, leaning back to hold you at arm's length, taking in your whole outfit, "and," his head tips in further confusion, "mother of the bride?"

"And you're a first year graduate," you grinned, "do you want your medal, or do you have more important follow up comments about my outfit?"

"I several have follow up comments but- oh my god," his eyes go wide and he suddenly seems a little breathless, like it's only just properly hit him "I finished a whole year," there's a genuine quality to his voice that's not often heard from Farleigh; still half laughing, but it's almost disbelieving, full of hope without any hint of irony, "not, like, just a week, or a semester; a whole year. A whole year at Oxford University." Lowering his head, he finally lets you put the medal on him.

For a long few moments he holds it out in front of him with pride and joy in his eyes; a precious, rare sight for you to behold. Then, very suddenly, he grabbed your face, bringing you close with this intense, shocked look in his eyes.

"I topped three of my Lit exams," he hissed with actual disbelief, almost making it sound like a scandal, "I took a hit before my Modernism final and spent nine pages arguing that Trainspotting was Allen Ginsberg's Howl for the postmodern audience. I don't even know if I believe that. How was that the best essay they saw?"

"Farleigh," you chuckled, "you might actually just be very good at this." You gave his cheek a fond pet, but after a moment, a hand reached over to tug at Farleigh's shoulder, breaking your stalemate.

"Congratulations, mate!" It's Felix, all smiles, unsurprisingly, "why've you got that look in your eyes?"

"He took one of his exams stoned and still topped the class," you grinned slyly, before your gaze fell on Oliver. As if sensing this, Farleigh slid over to give Felix a proper hug and congratulations, leaving space in front of you for Oliver to step in with a shy grin. You tug on his sailor hat with a fond smile and he turns even redder.

"Congratulations, Oliver Quick."

"Thank you," his gaze flicks up for a moment, stifling a giggle, "wizard."

Puffing out your chest as you mock-straightened your pink sash you hold your nose in the air.

"And what of it?" You put on a faux serious voice. Oliver has to duck his head to hide how much he's laughing at the bit. Once you let it go and deflate, you do then gesture for him to come close, wrapping your arms around him.

"Proud of you, Ollie," you murmur, giving him a tight squeeze.

"Don't know if I could have done it without you and Felix," he admits softly.

"Of course you could have," you assure him with warmth as the two of you begin to pull away. Oliver's eyes meet yours, blue and intense and that same familiar searching that you're so used to by now that it's something of a comfort. For just a moment, you want to reach out, to touch him, to hold onto his gentle expression and this moment in your own two hands. You wonder if he can see it in your eyes too, can see you repressing that urge.

"Wouldn't have been half as good," with the smallest of smiles, just edging on knowing, neither his expression nor his tone gives away enough for you to know exactly what he could be meaning or referring to, if anything beyond general companionship. So you play it off, you let anything you might be holding onto, anything that might be too much for such a public forum, pass.

"Of course," you say loudly, blithely, tucking your arm in Felix's beside you to get his attention, "we're wonderful company!"

"What's this?" Felix turns, eyebrows raised as he looks between yourself and an amused Oliver.

"Just saying that Oliver's year is better for having met us," you say simply, airily.

"Without a doubt!" Felix agrees without any kind of hesitation. Farleigh rolls his eyes, but is laughing as he calls both you and Felix incredibly vain.

As the excitement begins to die down and everyone begins to filter out, your group begins to meander towards the road that leads off campus, with yourself, Felix, and Oliver trailing behind.

"What's next? I mean, what's the plan now? I know there's a thing tomorrow, but -" Oliver's tentative again, quiet and meek again, acting like he's on the back foot again.

"Step one," Felix begins matter-of-factly, "pub; celebrate; get shitfaced." You see Oliver glance dubiously at your foot-high, velvet wizard hat once more. He's been doing it a lot. You can't lie, you've gotten very attached to your stupid look for the day and do plan to keep it all night.

"Even with that?"

"I'm gonna die in this hat I've decided," you say easily, to which both boys snicker at your assertiveness on the subject. But soon enough, Oliver raises another question.

"And- and tomorrow, that's the- I heard there was an end of year gala," he hesitates as you and Felix both automatically confirm. It did not seem to soothe any of Oliver's nerves and he finally brought up, "It's black tie; I have a black tie - bow tie, actually - but I don't really have anything else that'll match the theme -" he babbles awkwardly, looking all kinds of mousey and small with his head bent like that, hands fingers twisting together in anxious shapes. Both you and Felix are quiet, stuck in thought, and it takes you closing your eyes for a few seconds, trusting your arm in Felix's to keep you on the right path, before it hits you.

"Walters of Oxford," you open your eyes, "on Turl street, I think," you pause for a beat, reconsidering, "maybe double check that." Squinting for a moment, you try and recall, "ten minute walk, I think? Depending on your route, I guess. Not far is the point." But when you look over at your companions, both are frowning at you, something incredulous in their eyes. "To... hire a suit," you explain almost sheepishly under their respective gazes.

"How did you do that?" Oliver asks softly.

"Why did you know that?" Felix adds, bewildered.

"Isn't it handy to know the best place to get good suits and expert repairs done?" You shrugged a little helplessly. However, as you let your gaze drift, you find yourself recalling something India had said about you always needing to be a step ahead, to always have contingencies in place so Felix need not ever be inconvenienced for too long. Whatever; you push the thought and India's past negative tone from your mind, telling yourself it's good information to have anyhow.

"Anyways, I was also looking into good places for suit hires, in case the worst happened, and wouldn't you know it, Walters does that too."

"I'll- I guess I'll head there tomorrow morning," Oliver says awkwardly.

Felix drops your arm for a moment, wrapping his arm around Oliver's shoulders, bringing him in close.

"I look forward to see you in a suit, Ollie," there was no mistaking the flirty tone he was using, and from the glimpse of Ollie's face that you could see around him, he was turning red under Felix's praise, "handsome man like you all done up," he trailed off, ruffling Oliver's hair before he let go, cheeky smile on his face and bounce in his step. He has to be aware of Oliver's nervous, starry-eyed gaze locked upon him, but Felix just strikes up a conversation with you, enquiring if you would be going in a suit or a dress.

"I'm going in a wizard's hat." You declared.

"I love this bit; you aren't even drunk yet!" Everything you do is worth it if it means Felix will look at you like this, with delight shining in his eyes and in his words.

The night - what you can remember of it - is phenomenal. Benji calls you Archmage of the Bride and it's the only thing anyone refers to you as for the rest of the night, everyone else loudly correcting anyone who gets it wrong. Aside from that, everyone is babbling and bright and so enthusiastic about the gala the following night and what they'll be wearing.

Oliver is quiet, tucked in between you and Felix, nursing his pints longer than anyone else. Felix's arm is around him, as it always seemed to be, and as the night goes on, more and more you get the urge to tip your head and rest it against Oliver's for several long moments at a time.

But there's something different about tonight. Oliver doesn't reach out to you, even subtly. His thigh against yours is forced proximity, but his hands are always on his drink and his ankles are crossed beneath the table. Whenever he looks away, you start to notice that it's not at you; Felix seems to hold his attention more than anyone else, but on any other night, that wouldn't really surprise you. You want to ask what's wrong, but by the time you realise something is, you're not sure you're even capable of stringing two coherent words together.

You think back on what he'd said on the way to the pub, his voice small and nervous.

What's next?

You ponder as you leave the pub with several others in the group, thinking hard. Had he meant more than just the immediate? Your next was Saltburn, Oliver's next was... ah. Junkie mum and no dad.

Someone sticks a finger in your ear. Immediately you jump and clutch protectively at your hat -

"Fuck off 'm wizard!"

"I'm seeing if I can feel your thoughts, they look serious," Farleigh, somehow more sober than you, is still cackling. Your drunk mind doesn't like that he's laughing at you, even if it's an objectively funny situation, and you spend the rest of the short walk stomping and pouting, with Farleigh laughing and calling you ridiculous the entire time.

You awaken on the second last day of living on the Oxford University campus for your second year, with an absolutely killer headache. You don't remember getting back into your dorm, but apparently your drunken self was kind enough to steal an entire pitcher from the common area and fill it literally to the brim with water. Far less had spilled on your bed side table than you'd anticipated.

What you do remember, however, is the numerous thoughts you'd had about Oliver. Both last night, and over the past few weeks. As you take some painkillers and drink water out of the pitcher, you gaze across your room to few newspapers you've had sitting under a pile of textbooks since the second week of exams.

It's almost midday. Taking the papers, you pack yourself a bag of whatever you'd need to get ready for the gala on top of your little project, and pull your garment bag from your wardrobe. Swinging past the on-campus café, you pick up arguably too much food for you and Felix to share before the event, then heading to his dorm.

"Get fucked," Felix shouts through the door, muffled probably by his pillow, when you knock.

"Felix, open up!"

"No! What time is it?"

"Midday!"

"Fucking midday?!"

From behind you, one of the doors flies open and one of Felix's scowling dormmates spits for you to shut up or fuck off.

"Grow up or eat shit; it's the afternoon," you flip him off with a scowl. The door slams shut. Immediately you turn and kick Felix's door. When he opens it, he does not look happy. In return, you smile sweetly at him, thanking him with the most saccharine tone you can manage.

"Brought us food," you offer, as if trying to placate him, but instead Felix pointedly falls face first upon his bed, pulling his pillow over his head in defiance. Just glad to be finally let in, you potter around his room quietly, carefully avoiding his boxes of already packed belongings.

Putting all the food on the table, you start on some of it yourself as you keep working almost silently. You hang your garment bag up next to his, put your nice shoes by his door, put all your accessories and other things you needed to get read in their own, distinct pile on his dresser before you settle yourself in his desk chair, pulling out one of the newspapers and carefully going through it.

The Liverpool Echo.

Your eyes flick briefly over the articles, not really paying any of them much real attention, at least not until you got to the obituaries. These you scoured. Names and faces and dates and sweet words about caring, loving people who you neither knew nor cared for. No Quicks. Next paper.

It takes you quite some time; you're thorough and you'd gotten quite a few day's worth from around the time Oliver had found out the news about his father in case it had been reported earlier or perhaps a few days later. Prescot didn't have it's own newspaper, but the lady at the news agency you'd phoned to order them assured you that the Liverpool Echo was received by the people of Prescot too.

"Are you reading the paper?" Felix's voice actually makes you jump, having so engrossed yourself in your reading, forgetting he was still there. Looking at the clock, then at him, you see him still looking groggy, but more bemused than anything. Then, after a beat, he looks to the pile of ones you'd already gone through on the floor by your feet.

"Food's cold," you told him, going back to your reading.

"Why are you reading the paper?" Propping himself up, he begins to stretch and finally, properly wake up for the day.

"Been thinking about Ollie," you tell him with a distracted air, folding up the paper in your hands after a minute more of poring over it, adding it your growing pile despondently. Thankfully, instead of making a snide comment, Felix yawns, asking you what exactly you'd been thinking.

"I know he said he's fine, but his dad still passed," you said softly, gazing at the small stack you're still yet to read, but feeling no urge to pick any more up, "and he hasn't been home, and when he gets home, I don't know..." you sighed, sitting back and looking at the ceiling, a kind of ache in your heart that you hadn't expected, "I wanted to try and find his obituary, to see if anyone said any nice things about him, but I'm not having any luck."

"I don't think he was the kind of man who had obituaries written about him," Felix tells you with a kind of resignation, "but I get that it's one of our last days," he extrapolates, voicing your intentions as easily as if he could read your mind, "and you want to try and give him a nice moment, to show that people care about him, before we, you know, fuck off for a month and a half and leave him."

"Grim, when you put it like that," you hummed, "but yeah, essentially." Felix made a noise of sombre agreement.

Finally, however, he rose from his bed, slowly meandering over to the desk and picking through the food you'd brought. For a long few moments he idly flicks through the few papers you had left on his desk, carelessly shoving each over as he doesn't even open them.

"What about that rock thing my family does?" Mouth half full of a sandwich and leaving the papers alone, his curiosity over them apparently sated, Felix sits himself on the floor by his bed, knees drawn up to his chest as he contemplates, "doesn't have to be all that serious, can be just about saying goodbye and letting go. Closure and shit, you know?" He swallows, looking at you with bright eyes, as if waiting for you to validate his idea, "like we did with my dog when I was a kid."

"That's actually a very sweet idea; I think he'd love that coming from you," you slowly begin to smile as you turn the idea over in your mind. Felix, however, wears a look like he's almost confused, but you can't begin to imagine what until he opens his mouth -

"What do you mean 'coming from me'?" Despite his apparent vague distaste for your wording, you can't help but laugh, rolling your eyes.

"Ollie would love the idea of lighting a bag of shite on fire on his mother's doorstep if the suggestion came from you; I'm saying it's a lovely idea, and he's very fond of you, it'll mean a lot to him."

Quiet filters in with the sunlight. You watch Felix, Felix watches himself pick at his nails.

"Very fond of you too," it's completely and totally neutral. It's also a fucking loaded statement if you've ever heard one come out of Felix's mouth.

"Felix." When he hears the warning notes in your voice, you know he pretends not to.

Reaching over to his bedside table, the unnecessary arc of his arm has him catching the light, muscles lean and taught with his effort to not otherwise move. Heat of the day had already begun to infiltrate the room, but this angle and the light makes the beading sweat along his skin glow; he's always been able to take advantage of a hot day in a way you've never seen of anyone else. Felix, of course, knows exactly what he's doing. Felix learned long ago how to perform at the drop of a hat; no-one was better at objectifying him than he was if he wanted to, "don't do that," you mutter, knowing that even you weren't immune to the way he could manipulate people's eyes upon him.

"What?" It's too innocent to be anywhere near truthful. You see the edge of a smirk before it disappears behind a cigarette and his sudden, aloof façade.

"We haven't talked about what happened," you tried, you really did, "we swept it under the rug for Ollie's sake, and then we had exams, and we -"

Felix lights his lighter, head angled so he can look up at you through his lashes, so his hair falls and curls and turns gold in the flickers of the lighter's faint fire. For another second he holds your gaze, confusing and teasing all in one; like he adores you, but like it's a challenge. Then he moves again, poses again. One leg up, one leg stretched out in front of him, cigarette resting so lazily between the fingers of the hand that he rests on his thigh, plays a staccato beat with his fingers against his bare skin. Nudity was never taboo between you, so why were you losing your train of thought over Felix in his boxers, a sight you'd seen arguably a hundred times before.

Looking anywhere else on him doesn't do you any favours, the beautiful body you've marked and called yours - jealousy, right, that's -

But his head tips back, falling back against his bed as smoke rings rise from his lips and the column of his throat is caught by the light. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, you catch only the briefest flash but he knows you can fill in the rest, knows you see the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

"You know we need to talk, otherwise you wouldn't be doing this."

"Doing what?" He shifts, legs spreading a little wider, and when he looks at you, he's wearing that smile you've seem him turn on countless girls before, teasing, flirting, look in his eyes like he's getting high of of the very idea of you. Lips quirking into a cocky smile, he raises his cigarette to his lips, watching you with an almost lazy kind of arousal. Like every girl he's looked at like this knows they could get him in bed without even trying, without even knowing they were being seduced, "something wrong, love?"

And it's fucking working.

"Fuck, Fi," you have to close your eyes, putting your head in your hands. He laughs and it sounds like fucking syrup, all teasing and warmth, but you can't fucking do this right now; "are you trying to get me in bed just because you don't want to talk about the fact that you were obviously jealous of Oliver?"

This silence is far more bitter, as is Felix's tone when he finally speaks.

"What would I have to be jealous of?" Sounding like a man in denial.

"That Oliver is good to me without needing you as an audience," you push the heels of your palms against your eyes, words and thoughts escaping you that you didn't even realise you had. The next breath you takes shakes. Audibly. Felix clears his throat, but he doesn't seem to know what to say. Now that you've said it out loud, you can feel your face beginning to heat up, tears stinging your tightly closed eyes, the way you begin to tremble.

"I know," you start slowly, carefully thinking about your words this time as you say them, "that you love me, Fi," it's gentle, reassuring, but frustrated nonetheless, face still in your hands. But your breath still shakes as you try and keep it level, "so I think part of you is- is scared that if I find someone who could love me," even the thought of your next words sit bitter and heavy on your tongue, so you have to take a deep breath, try and centre yourself, "without you," you pause, swallowing hard, feeling traitorous tears escaping you, "that I might realise I prefer- prefer that, or something," here is where you start to break, where your voice cracks and you can't keep your hands against your eyes so all you can do is hang your head and hope he doesn't see your tears, "but you've spent all your time assuming, and pouting, and thinking badly of a good friend, and you haven't even asked me!"

Finally, Felix speaks, his voice weak; he sounds moments away from tears.

"I made you cry."

You hadn't even realised how far beyond Oliver this went, how tightly you'd been holding onto this, these thoughts and feelings, keeping them coiled in your chest, until just now. Hearing his words, your crying finally becomes audible, even to you, even if you hadn't meant it to. Today was meant to celebrate, not... this.

"I don't-" he voice catches in his throat, and you hear him sniffle softly, "I don't know if I can ask you that." He admits. Finally, when you look up, you see his expression carefully neutral, looking over his shoulder with both his knees drawn up to his chest. God he can't even look at you.

You know Felix Catton too well; he is terrified.

In the moments that follow, you slowly pull yourself together. You dry your eyes, and nod, while trying to school your expression into something lighter.

"Okay, Fi," you tell him, and try to make sure he knows you're being sincere, "it's, um," you sniffle as you try and smile, "it's a loaded question, I know."

When he bites his bottom lip as subtly as he can manage, you know its to try and keep it from wobbling. There's guilt written all over his face as he watches you move around his room. He doesn't get up, doesn't move, just watches and listens.

"I'm -" you take a deep breath, looking around the room and forcing a smile, "I think I'm going to get ready for tonight with Farleigh, is that alright?"

"Yeah, 'course," he says, as if on autopilot. After a beat, as you collect up your things, Felix finally looks around his room, at the boxes and the things you'd brought with you. Suits, matching and side by side in his closet, bought alongside a third in the set for Farleigh that you know he'd be wearing tonight too. You take it out, lay it over a taped-up box full of his books, ready to go, and finish collecting up your accessories.

"You should talk to Ollie," you tell him, double checking your bag, unsure of how you were managing to act like everything was suddenly okay. Felix nods, watching you once more, gaze a little glassy, far away and looking almost lost, almost guilty again. Part of you is desperate to stay, to comfort him. But as much as he may want it, it's not what he needs in this moment.

"Fi, are you listening to me?" You asked, firmer this time, and he seems to surface from whatever thought's he'd been stuck in, giving you a faraway smile as he nods; it's almost believable, "I know you care about Ollie," you say warmly but firmly, "please talk to him," wetting your lips, you deliberate on your way to the door, picking up your garment bag, "be good to him; Ollie's the only audience that matters there."

"Does this change..." Felix is looking at the floor when you finally make it to his door, "us?"

"Are you still jealous of Ollie?" You try to make it sound joking, since you were pretty sure of the answer, though Felix shakes his head with a frown.

"No, 'course not," he mutters, almost as if to himself, but he doesn't seem to have finished his thoughts on the matter, so you give him a moment; "I've been an asshole, haven't I?" He finally mutters looking out across his room, "a right asshole to someone who's only ever tried to be a bloody good friend to me."

"You kind of have," you agreed easily, and Felix finally looks at you again, the slightest furrow in his brow. There's nothing particularly, prominently beautiful or posed about Felix in this moment; he'd dropped the pretense long ago.

Looking at him now, looking up at you with those helpless eyes, all folded up and far smaller than he usually appeared, all you can remember is the kid afraid of scary movies and his sister's Goosebumps books, who'd stayed up late with you when you'd cried your eyes out in your first year of Secondary school when your parents missed your birthday again, who never let you forget how much he loved you, even for a moment, since you'd met. Your best friend. Always.

"I wish you'd just trust how much I love you too, Fi," voice and expression softening. Slowly, Felix stands, makes his way over to you, wrapping you up in a hug.

"I do, and I will better next time," he mumbles faintly, apologetically, "'m sorry."

There's something melancholy about still parting ways, even after his apology, but both of you seem to know that it's for the best.

Farleigh is glad for your company, and you do a good enough job of appearing alright that he doesn't seem to pick up on the strange mood you can't otherwise shake. Still, you're quiet, Farleigh talking enough for the both of you in between a range of CD mixtapes he'd put together for his own enjoyment.

On your way into the gala itself, you're ahead of Farleigh by a few paces, eager to get in and get yourself a drink, but you brush past Oliver, waiting, looking, as always, out of place. When you tell him he looks lovely, you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes, and barely stay, while you hear Farleigh, behind you, taking his time with antagonising your poor friend.

Felix is leaving the event as you're arriving. He almost crashes into you, bottle of champagne clearly stolen from one of the tables, in one hand as he's running from the venue.

"Hey, hi," despite both your best efforts, there is still clearly some discomfort in the air between you. Felix's eyes roam over you, almost out of habit, but there's an appreciative look in his eyes as he meets your gaze once more, "I think, I, uh, I'm going to skip this one and hang out with Ollie," almost like he's trying to invite you. But after everything, this can't be something you do; this isn't your tradition, this isn't your moment to share with Oliver. He'll never get it.

He's Felix Catton; he's the sun.

"He's going to enjoy that so much more than hanging around here," you smile brightly. Felix looks a little surprised, a little put out that you had apparently not picked up on his offer, or that you had and had decided to decline.

"Yeah, I- I thought so," he almost seems a little stunned by how cold this interaction was between you, compared to the usual, boisterous comradery you shared.

"Have a good night, Fi," finally, you kiss his cheek and slip into the entrance hall of the gala building, weaving through beautifully dressed students to find your gaggle of friends for the night. Throughout the night, you get asked where Felix is, and you shrug with a blithe smile every time.

My Felix <3: i invited ollie to spend summer with us

Tomorrow you would be okay.

Tonight, however, you planned to dance with your friends, drink enough that you either stop feeling so weird in your damn brain, or feel perhaps even worse, and probably end up crying.

Tomorrow everything would be okay again.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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vexomn · 2 months

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LET THIS MAN FIGHT IM TIRED OF WAITING!!!!

You guys think Jaegyeon just doesn’t fight? I know he didnt fight this chapter cause James Lee just didnt want to..but imagine he conquered incheon with his car or something like fast and furious LOL! fast and furious lookism fanart thatd be sick (i havent even watched all the fast and furious movies stop) RACER AU!

so not related but i took that biology exam i mentioned in an older post yesterday..I think I did okay for the first assignment of the year BUT WE’LL SEE GUYS

#webcomic #webtoon #lookism #lookism webtoon #jaegyeon na #james lee #webtoon lookism #vexwashere

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wqnwoos · 1 year

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masterlist . . .

key: f — fluff, a — angst, c — hurt/comfort, h — humour/crack

all works are sfw. all works are gender neutral unless specified otherwise.

ot13 / unit (reactions + headcanons)

seventeen & touch-starved oc — hhu | vu

dating seventeen — hyung line | maknae line

svt as your boyfriend — vocal unit

96 line & deliriously tired y/n (platonic)

seventeen as tropes — performance unit

seventeen as jane austen characters

seventeen as your older brother meeting your bf

choi seungcheol

cold (f)

birthday boy (f)

deceit, divorce & dishes (f)

cruel summer (f, a, situationship2lovers)

espresso shots (f, meetcute, cafe!au)

i love you (i know) (f, bffs2lovers)

cramps (f, c)

koala tendencies (f)

yoon jeonghan

exam stress (f, c)

crime and pen-ishment (f, college!au, meetcute)

questions of the flying fish variety (f)

to you (f)

restless (f, bffs2l)

ur so pretty (f, c)

ikea complications (f)

snooze (f)

i know (you know) (f, bffs2l)

cookie crush (f, roommates)

hot potato (f, roommates2lovers)

hong jisoo

heartbreak x3.5 [ a, f, childhood bffs 2 strangers 2 lovers, 2.3k ]

joshua hong breaks your heart three and a half times before you can even reach nineteen, and yet you can’t stop loving him with the pieces that remain.

early mornings (f)

closure (a, f, exes!au)

pillow forts (f)

wen junhui

“i’ll hold you.” (f, c)

i wanna be a rock! (f)

forever is hiding in the laundry basket (f)

kwon soonyoung

the importance of brownies (versus the love of your life) (f, h)

persuasion (f, meetcute, college!au)

forever is a long time (but not long enough) (f)

jeon wonwoo

gamer boy (pretty boy) (f)

daisy (f, cafe!au, meetcute)

grocery shopping (f)

whale conversations (f, h?)

fate (f)

the inevitable insufficiency of the word love (f)

head over heels (f)

dance, baby! (f)

a world of your own (blanketed in white) (f)

lee jihoon

you are in love (so in love) (f)

home (f)

heartbeat (f)

lee seokmin

betelgeuse & dinner (f, c)

rainy days (a, f?, exes!au)

twenty five, twenty one (a)

make a wish! (f, bffs2l)

kim mingyu

i want to hold your hand (f)

street-racer!mingyu (headcanons)

call it what you want (f, college!au)

xu minghao

goodnight n stay (f)

beauty even when you cannot see it (c, f)

love & shakespeare (academic rivals to lovers, f, college!au)

easy love (f, bffs2lovers)

duvet-hogging (f)

inebriated conversations (f, meetcute)

boo seungkwan

untitled but seungkwan taking care of you when you’re sick (f, c)

pick-up lines and cheek kisses (f, h, bffs2lovers)

grocery shopping (f)

chwe hansol

on idiocy, bugs and the prospect of forever (f, bffs2lovers)

impulsive decisions of the feline variety (f, h)

vehicular flirtations (f, h, f2l, college!au)

i miss you, i’m sorry (a, f)

the space between (f, f2l/situationship)

golden (f)

coffee break (f, h, coworkers!au)

renaissance eyes (f)

to taste the same thing in the same moment (f)

00:02am (f, voicemail)

philosophical inquisitions of the lovering kind (f, bffs2l)

lee chan

“me or aspirin?” (f, c)

dramaticisms (f, h)

to conquer a claw machine (in the name of love) (f)

#.masterlist #seventeen x reader

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clavissionary-position · 28 days

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(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual His POV Story

The final installment in Gilbert's current party event.

Spoilers. I'm not a translator, I just throw stuff into online translators, so expect errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | Case 3 (I recommend you read these beforehand for the full experience.)

Please be aware that this installment contains some heavier emotional content as well as sexual content later on—MDNI. As a final note, I recommend you have read Gilbert's proposal event beforehand. Just in case. (Technically I'd also recommend you have read his physical exam event too, but not to the same degree.)

—

I couldn't tell the little rabbit the real reason I had her accompany me on official business.

I'd most certainly earn a scolding and remonstration if I did.

I felt like I wanted to be scolded at least once though, since the little rabbit was the only one who could truly rebuke the conquering beast. However...

"I want the little rabbit to be able to survive in Obsidian even if by some chance I were no longer here."

Those were not words I could simply tell her, because I knew just how devastating they would be for her.

(That being said, today's been worse than ever.)

Crimes of the older generations continuing to go unchecked, signs of rampant bribery within the military...

The little rabbit's beautiful eyes were exposed to so many of these things.

(What is it about this country that when one rotten thing disappears, three more take its place?)

(Maybe everyone's got a death-wish. Yet they still beg for their lives once they're weeded out.)

(...It's incomprehensible to me. If only they'd all just die to save me the trouble.)

Emma: Gil, are we done with official business for the day?

My darkening thoughts must have breached containment; as the little rabbit walked beside me she entwined her fingers with mine.

Her warm hand permeated the cruelty staining across my heart.

Gilbert: I don't have any plans, but is there anything you'd like to do?

Emma: Is it alright if I come to your room? I feel like your bookshelves are calling for me.

Gilbert: Of course it's alright.

(...You probably have a lot to think over.)

Her face only spelled out joy. There was no deceit to be found.

She didn't change her usual demeanor, not even when faced with an irritable beast.

(I've known Walter and Roderic for a long time and even they're prone to checking my complexion on days like this.)

Of course that certainly didn't mean she hadn't noticed a thing.

In fact, the little rabbit, with her keen insight into other people's emotions, should have already pinpointed mine.

[flashback to Case 1]

Gilbert: Anyhow... was it written on my face?

Emma: ...Yeah, it was.

Gilbert: Hehe, well that's no good.

Emma: Isn't that what I'm here for?

Emma: To help give you even a little peace of mind?

[end flashback]

(That's what you said this morning, right?)

(...Truly, you're so gallant for a baby rabbit.)

The little rabbit immediately leapt at the books once she arrived in my room.

Although she'd probably learned by now that concentrating on the books alone would make this troublesome beast very jealous.

So she picked out only one before walking over to the bed and sitting down beside that beast.

Gilbert: ...What's this? Political science?

Emma: I felt like doing some studying today.

(Oh, I see...)

(Someone with a truly pure heart doesn't get tainted after experiencing filth. But rather, they lament their own helplessness.)

(...That's just so like the old me.)

A young boy who'd once learned about corruption and then tried desperately to change the status quo.

And after he'd finished reading all the books available within the country, he'd asked a book dealer to regularly procure ones from other places so he could vigilantly instill the knowledge into himself.

That was back when I'd still foolishly believed that no matter how corrupt a person was, there was an alternative to killing them as long as you engaged with them sincerely.

(Things didn't work out so nicely in the real world though.)

(...But I want the little rabbit to stay like this, just as she is.)

Gilbert: [smiling as he watches her read] ...

Emma: ...

Gilbert: ......

Emma: ......Gil.

The little rabbit looked up from her book, appearing as though she might cry.

Emma: Are there any easier political science books?

Gilbert: Ahaha... I knew it.

Gilbert: The book you're holding is so philosophical that even I found it difficult to understand.

Gilbert: Would you like me to recommend something aimed at beginners?

Emma: Yes, please, if you wouldn't mind!

Gilbert: And what should you do when begging me?

Without hesitation, the little rabbit placed her hands my shoulders and kissed my cheek.

Emma: ...Please, Gil.

Gilbert: It's boring if you do the same thing you always do.

Emma: Then how about...

When I sensed her trying to bite my ear, I pulled back.

Gilbert: Really now... So that's what you're gonna do.

Emma: Aren't you always biting my ear? It's a show of my affection.

Gilbert: But you're already aware though, of how sensitive my ears are?

Emma: ...

Gilbert: Oh, I almost forgot. I still have to discipline you.

Emma: ...W-what are you talking about?

Gilbert: Are you playing innocent? You still haven't made up for sneaking medicine into my food during lunch.

Emma: Um, I did make up for it!? Didn't you have your fun teasing me for it?

Gilbert: That was just a bit of playing around. You see, my real punishment—

I grabbed the little rabbit's hand as she tried to run and forced her onto the bed in a roll.

Just like that I gathered her wrists above her head and bound them with a nearby cloth.

(I hadn't really planned to do something like this...)

(But the little rabbit's been a bad girl, so I've got no choice.)

Emma: I was... going to study...

Gilbert: I'll have a beginner's book picked out for you by tomorrow.

Gilbert: Or rather, if you're interested, I can teach you myself? After all, training people is my forte.

I undid the collar of her dress and ran my fingers directly over her bare skin.

The little rabbit's cheeks turned as red as the sunset when I placed my hand over her breasts.

Emma: But don't you have things to do, Gil?

Gilbert: It's up to me how I choose to use my limited time.

Gilbert: You really don't have to be so overly anxious. If I can't manage, I'll say so.

(Although there's nothing that should be getting higher priority over the little rabbit's requests.)

The little rabbit started rubbing her legs together as I caressed her over and over again.

Purposely ignoring her mounting frustration was, of course, all part of the plan.

Emma: In that case... Thank you, Gil.

Gilbert: You've certainly got funny tastes to be saying thank you at a time like this.

Emma: That's not what I mean... mn... ah...

She suddenly let out a lewd cry when I lightly poked the hardened tip of her breast.

Emma: This afternoon, too, you...

Gilbert: I let you have your release right away this afternoon, didn't I? I wouldn't call that a punishment.

Emma: ...

Gilbert: It's no use being wistful either.

When I turned up the hem of her dress, I didn't even have to touch her to uncover the stain on her underwear.

Just a light swipe up the thin fabric and my fingertips came away damp.

Gilbert: Now then, you're going to have to suffer a lot.

Emma: ...At least... let me take my clothing off please.

Emma: I can't bear to... ruin the dress you made for me.

(Jeez, you truly are...)

Gilbert: I'm not listening to you.

Emma: Ah...

I thrust my fingers into her wetness as if I was trying to scrape out every last drop of nectar.

The dress pinned underneath her quickly became sullied.

Emma: Gil... mn...

Gilbert: If the dress gets dirty, you'll be just be reminded of something embarrassing whenever you put it on, won't you?

Gilbert: This is punishment, so you've got to resign yourself and accept it.

Emma: .......You're so mean.

Gilbert: And who exactly do you think I am?

(For the world's greatest villain to let you off with meanness and nothing else... that just means you're special.)

After the punishment, the little rabbit, thoroughly sullied, headed for the bath.

I honestly wanted to chase after her, but there was still work to be done today.

Roderic: Pardon me, sir.

Gilbert: I figured you'd come.

When I got to my office desk, Roderic immediately selected a document from the stack and handed it to me.

Roderic: ...I thought I might be turned away.

Gilbert: I'm in a good mood right now so I'll forgive you.

Roderic: That's surprising. I thought a storm would have been raging these past few days.

Gilbert: Ahaha, everyone has the little rabbit to thank for that.

Roderic: ...They can't thank her enough.

Gilbert: Neither can I.

I briefly glanced over the document before picking up my quill.

[I'm not gonna paste all the cutaways from the CG like I did in Case 3]

Gilbert: I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.

Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.

Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.

Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.

Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.

(We're in trouble if they can't grow to the point where they can keep the older generations in check even without me.)

While talking, I read through the document and noted down points of concern.

Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.

Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.

Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.

Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.

(Up until now I'd left him to go and self-destruct on his own but... it was a promise to the little rabbit.)

Roderic: ...Understood, sir.

After completing my review, I handed it back to Roderic.

Gilbert: What's the next document?

Roderic: It's here, sir.

Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?

Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.

Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.

(And it's not like they're even required to check in with me before proceeding.)

Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.

Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.

Roderic: No, sir, it's not.

(I've got no intention of dying now that I've decided to live, but...)

(The everyday life that's persisted until today may not necessarily continue on tomorrow.)

(Because of the position I'm in, I have to assume the worst and act accordingly.)

Gilbert: ...[sigh] Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?

Gilbert: It seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.

Roderic: Please don't say that!

Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.

Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."

Roderic: ...Very well, sir.

(Even so...)

I'd felt someone's passionate gaze trained on me even while we were talking.

The person in question may have believed they were well-hidden.

But I couldn't help but notice the hem of her negligee flickering from her hiding spot.

Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.

Roderic may have noticed as well since he was giving up on the rest of the documents.

Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?

Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.

Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.

(Narrowly escaped death, didn't you...?)

The door closed behind Roderic and I stretched out my arms as though to relax.

Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.

Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.

Gilbert: Well that's a given.

Once I beckoned, the little rabbit understood my request exactly and climbed onto my lap.

Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.

Emma: I was looking at you!?

Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.

Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?

Emma: ......

The punishment from earlier seemed to have taken effect as the little rabbit kissed my lips instead of my ear.

I lightly bit her lip on her way out, imparting a bit of pain.

But rather than get angry, the little rabbit's eyes only seemed to soften with joy.

(Looks like I was able to soothe you after all.)

Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?

Gilbert: [pouts] Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.

Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.

Gilbert: [grins] Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.

Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of those things from now on.

Emma: Because I'd like to be able to assist you as well.

Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.

(...Hm?)

The little rabbit had begun to frown as she spoke.

(Have I said something wrong?)

I hadn't the faintest idea what it could be, so I settled on comforting her for the time being by stroking her cheek, still warm from her bath.

Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,

Emma: ...I wasn't lying.

Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?

Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.

Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.

(......)

Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and he knows everything...

(...So that's what was on your mind while you were eavesdropping.)

(The little rabbit is jealous of Roderic.)

(The sweet little rabbit of all people.)

Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.

There's no way I wouldn't be happy to be shown such love to the point of jealousy.

This was an event that completely overturned all the depressing stuff from today.

It was practically a miracle.

Emma: ...I get it now. So this is what you've been feeling all this time.

Emma: Hehe... What do I do? I'm really jealous here.

Jealousy was supposed to be a negative emotion by nature yet the little rabbit took it in as though it were a good thing.

I felt like she'd gotten a glimpse of how this beast dealt with his jealousy on a daily basis.

Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like this though, you know?

Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?

Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.

Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.

Emma: I'll work diligently then.

Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.

(It's just like Roderich was saying. I definitely shouldn't have been able to show any kindness toward my surroundings these past few days)

And yet, what occupies my heart now at the end of the day is pure happiness.

(The reason I had Emma accompany me on official business was in preparation for a day that might possibly come...)

(At least that's what I'd thought, but perhaps in reality I'd only wanted to be healed.)

(...Nothing in this rotten world can change a thing about the beautiful world that Emma brings.)

(Maybe I'm just spoiled by the comfort in that.)

(...I may be a lot more dependent on Emma than I realize.)

When I laughed despite myself, Emma began to gently stroke my hair.

Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.

Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.

(I'm sure I could cherish you endlessly.)

(That's why... I wish this daily life could go on forever.)

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Translation references: 無理矢理 1 | かと 1 2 | 感謝してもしきれません 1 | あなたなら 1

#ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri translation folder

98 notes · View notes

itgirlgyu · 6 months

Text

how would txt help you conquer exam stress!

۪ 𝆬 ೀ ot5! txt x fem! reader! (＞人＜;)ᶻz ﹒★ 🐙 established relationship version. not to be taken seriously!!! ֗⠀✿ WARNING˖ ⠀KIND OF VIOLENT ! REQUESTED BY AI! @beomurang

yeonjun...

gets a wig that's the same as your hair and dresses up as you.

he literally wants to sit for the exam on your stead

when you try to stop him from getting you banned for life, he has the audacity to go

“ill just lie that i'm wearing taller shoes.“

yes yeonjun the only tiny fault in your perfect cosplay is that height of yours

sure that is the only hindrance

soobin...

he doesn't.

he would literally be making plans for his free time.

sprawling on the floor of the room you're rotting and trying to study and whining that he is bored.

spoiling anime you two were supposed to watch and other shit while you're suffering in front of overpiling books and notes.

denies ever doing any of these things when you're done with the exam and can finally spare time to beat his ass or possibly a break up

beomgyu...

dresses up in those sumo wrestler body suits and gets you a bat

tells you to beat him with that to let off some of your exam stress

you honestly have to discuss some very important dynamic about your relationship after your exams are done

but for now you accept his offer

you guys even improvise and he lets you chase him through an empty park at 3 in the morning with the bat for those nights when doubts fill you :(

taehyun...

honestly makes you even more confused because see

he is very supportive while he's trying to coach you through your daily routines before the exam so you're in your best condition.

when you try to sit him down for a serious talk

“what are you doing taehyun”

taehyun—”saving your goddamn ass”

but also taunts you a lot because you should have done all this months prior.

overall he's actually very helpful.

gives you head massages too!

huening kai...

stays the fuck out of your vision line.

daily supportive messages and snacks keep coming in though.

makes plans with you for after the exam so that you don't dread them and do them well!

literally the best boy in this entire list.

he was lowkey afraid that you'd get frustrated and break up with him in the middle of this to focus on yoru exams.

poor baby is happier than you when you're done after your exams.

COPYRIGHTS RESERVED TO ITGIRLGYU 23'. FEEDBACKS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

PERM' TAGLIST: @impureperhaps @full-sunnies @ox1-lovesick @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @forever-in-the-sky2 @gyuletters

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atinystraynstay · 6 months

Text

Sincerity Is Scary - Kim Mingyu

Synopsis: Everyone on campus knew Mingyu. He was the guy who all the girls wanted to get one night with, the guy all the guys wanted to be, and everything you wanted. Mingyu and you became friends after a class assignment. It's safe to say though, you have fallen for him when he seems to be interested in other girls. Or at least you think that. "What about you? What are you afraid of?" "Loving you."

Pairing: Frat boy! Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: Angst! A little bit of fluff at the end. Non-idol, friends to lovers. College crush! Mingyu for sure

Warnings: PG-13 - Slight swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual activity mentioned

Word Count: 6.1k

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It was a crisp late November evening. Campus was alive again after students had traveled home for the holidays. Now, it was crunch time on final assignments, final exams, and trying to keep sane at the end of the term.

You were patiently waiting for your study partner to arrive. You had gotten an iced Americano, gearing up to deep dive into your psychology assignment. It was a final project analyzing fear - how it affects people, what exactly it is, and how it could be conquered. Your pink backpack was resting on the chair across from you. A signal to everyone that you were expecting someone, and that the chair was taken. Campus always got overcrowded when people realized they needed to get their shit together.

You tapped on your phone screen to look at the time. 2:33pm. Where was he?

You glanced at the door to find any signal of your partner. Somehow, you guys have worked together at least on one project every term since sophomore year. While he wasn't always the most motivated academically, working with him was a joy on your end. But that might be because of the view of the guy - Kim Mingyu.

Mingyu was the guy that all the girls desired. It helped that he was well-known on campus as his fraternity always threw the best parties. He was someone who was also willing to help out those around you. For instance, he always made sure all the girls at his parties got home safely by either having a pledge walk them or ordering an Uber for them personally. He also cleaned up any mess he spotted or even just offered a gentle smile to someone who crossed his path. They see an attractive guy and then get to know the guy with a heart of gold who wants the best for himself and his friends. They got to know my friend.

Now, I wouldn't say Mingyu and I were best friends. We did have our own separate social circles with very drastically different ideas of a fun Friday night. However, he was someone I could trust. Not just when it comes to making sure an assignment gets done, but he is someone I can turn to when I need a place to vent. He was a safe space from judgment or ridicule.

The doorbell rang, indicating someone was making their presence known in the coffee shop. You peeked up to see Mingyu. His eyes were scanning the cafe, looking for you. He was wearing a grey hoodie, black sweatpants, and a navy blue beanie on his head. It wasn't too cold in November when you didn't want to be outside, but it was cold enough that you could feel the air nipping at any exposed skin. One strap of his black backpack hung over his shoulder. He looked like a model for Abercrombie & Fitch.

His eyes soon found yours and you watch his smile grow. Did I mention that this man has the personality of a golden retriever?

Eyes from other patrons followed as he maneuvered through the sea of tables and chairs. His eyes never leaving yours though. He was determined to get to you one way or another.

"Y/n!" "Mingyu! How was Thanksgiving dinner with Hansol and Joshua?"

He plopped himself in the seat across from you. He let out a puff of air, probably now feeling the contrast of the heat from inside the cafe compared to the crisp air outside. His backpack made a soft thud, landing assumedly by his feet. His right hand reached up to take down the beanie, shoving it into the front pouch of his hoodie.

"It was actually pretty good. Wonwoo made sure Hansol stayed out of the kitchen, so Joshua and I could cook." He let out an infectious laughter that made me weak in the knees. Fuck, I'm down bad for him. "Wish you could have made it though!"

And try not to drool over you in front of all your friends? Pretend I don't have feelings for you? Yeah, no thanks.

"I'm sorry! My folks said I needed to come home, trying to savor every family get-together before applying for jobs and being big scary adults." "Yeah, I get what you mean. The guys have become like family to me. Who really knows where all 13 of us are going to end up once we all graduate." "No plans to keep the fraternity life going after graduation?" I teased. He laughed at my joke, quickly shaking his head. "No, I plan to step back completely after I graduate. Think it would be too sad if I was one of the graduated guys who just stuck around the fraternity house. Or the one that has to keep drinking and constantly talking about 'the good old days.' No, I think I'm ready to be taken a bit more seriously." I couldn't help but smile wider at the thought of the man Mingyu was going to be. Of course, he was already a stellar guy. He was the guy I wanted so desperately to take home to my parents, to present him as my one and only. College was just the beginning for him. Kim Mingyu was destined for amazing things, to do amazing things for this world. I just hoped I could become a part of it.

"So, you ready to get started on this project?" I asked. "Why can't we just sit here and chat? Why is it that we have to get started on the project? It's not due for another three weeks." "Because, I know how you are, Mingyu. You'll throw ragers the next couple of weeks as a final hooray before everyone leaves for a month and then you'll forget about the project until the very last minute which makes us both stressed! If we at least brainstorm and decide what we are going to do, it means less work in the long-run." "And more time for you to come by one of my parties?" I sighed in defeat. Mingyu knew I wasn't the type of person who liked to go out to parties. I liked going to the dive bars with my friends. There was nothing appealing to me about sweaty bodies pushed up against one another in a basement. You couldn't even hear people with how loud the bass was! However, Mingyu has been trying to get me to go to a party since we met. And he's been using that this being our senior year as a perfect way to guilt trip me into going. "And I'll come by one of your parties," I promised. "What about the one tonight?" "Already having one tonight?" "What! It's a great way to welcome everyone back," he laughed. "Seriously. If we are able to decide how we are going to do the project, then you have to come by tonight." "Ok, ok. I'll come by tonight if we both do the work." "Deal!"

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

After an hour of intensive research, you and Mingyu decided on an approach for your project. You were going to interview people on campus to see if there was a common fear among college students. You had some guesses, but you were hoping to find a way to bust those fears that plague most college students.

"I think this might be our best project yet, y/n! I don't know what you think of these types of things. You're so creative."

Don't blush, y/n. Don't give yourself away.

I smiled politely in return, a laugh bubbling out of my throat. "I just like creating work for you to do. You know I'm the type to take allllll the credit for every assignment," I teased.

"Oh right. Because you know the moment I do things a certain way then you'll just jump in and try to do the project all by yourself." "Hey! That was sophomore year y/n! I think I've gotten a lot better since then when it comes to group projects," I pouted. "You have. Trust me, darling. There's a reason why I always come back to you," he winked.

Oh, there he goes again. Mingyu the Flirt. I was going to slip one of these days, let him and all of campus probably know my secret if he keeps it up. And the worst part was that it wasn't just an act. His was just naturally flirty.

Both of us were beginning to pack up our backpacks. Our laptops had slid into our backpacks before they zipped up in unison. It was getting close to 5pm, and if I was expected to be at Mingyu's tonight, I had to get home and get ready. Not that I was banking one tonight being the night things finally work out for us, but I didn't want to seem like a slob.

"So, you coming tonight, Ms. Anti-Fraternity?"

I sighed and nodded. "Yes, Mr. President, I will be there."

He smiled wide before swinging an arm around me. Oh god dammit. The universe was testing me. "That's the spirit, angel!" He began leading the two of us out of the cafe, side by side and pulled into his side. I was trying my best not to look like a deer caught in headlights by his gesture. I'm surprised my legs haven't given out at all from the series of events that are unfolding right now. Sure, Mingyu and I were close, but he's never been this bold with me. What is he up to?

I could feel eyes on us as we made our way out of the coffee shop. Some girls were whispering to one another, glancing towards us. Other guys looked at Mingyu with shock. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole to prevent me from embarrassing not only me, but also him. Keeping his arm around me, he used his free hand to push the glass door open.

"You're too kind," I said playfully. I offered a gentle smile as I detached myself from Mingyu so I could step over the threshold. I glanced behind me to see if Mingyu was following but froze when I saw he didn't. He was still standing by the door, leaving it open. Instead of just holding it open from someone coming in, I caught him at the start of a conversation. He was talking to Jennie.

Now, Jennie and I didn't have any beef. She was in our psychology class, so we ran into her often. She never joined our study sessions, thank goodness, because she often preferred to study with her sorority sisters. However, she knew Mingyu outside of class as she was always trying to set up mixers and pre-games for football season with his fraternity. Jennie had sensed that Mingyu and I were close, so oftentimes, she would approach me asking if he was still single. She was trying to gather her intel before making a move.

"Excited for the party tonight, Mingyu! Want me to come over early to help set up?" She took a step closer to him. Her hip brushed against his which caused his eyes to widen. His grip slipped from the door as he was holding the edge, closing the door on me. "Oh, I didn't really think of that. I was just going to get Seungkwan and Dino to help me, maybe some of the pledges." That was the last thing I heard before the door fully closed. I was now on the outside looking in. Time froze as I watched her take another step forward. She blocked his view of me. Her hand gently reached up to rest on his bicep, squeezing it. She wore a playful smile while Mingyu smiled, or at least tried to. I would like to think that I knew him well enough to tell his genuine smile apart from his fake one. All I could see was him nodding before she began leaning in.

Okay, that's my cue. I quickly spun on my heels to walk in the direction of my apartment.

"Are you sure the dress isn't too short?" I mumbled.

I was walking to the frat with my roommate. She insisted that I shouldn't go alone. Not sure if it was because of my retelling of the events that transpired outside of the coffee shop or the fact she wanted a good laugh at me attending my first frat party.

After seeing Jennie with Mingyu, I ranted to my roommate about everything. I was frustrated with the circumstances where the two of us would never work out. We are two separate people who make awesome friends. I didn't want to jeopardize that. It was also partially due to the fact I could not bring myself forward to confess to Mingyu how I was feeling.

Her solution was simple - dress to kill. "If you can't say how you feel about him, make him realize what he's missing out on. You gotta go out there and steal his attention."

The look that could kill was a rather short red dress. It was a sparkly red which would be able to be noticed even in the dimmest of spots in the hell I was about to enter. A frat basement was somewhere I thought I'd never end up, but here we are. It hugged my curves perfectly and had sleeves that were cuffed at the elbow by an elastic band. I wore a pair of beat-up sneakers, so I could be comfortable for the evening. This wasn't a formal event. This was about making Mingyu notice me.

"To be honest, I think it could be shorter. But you're not trying to sleep with him, just get him to notice you, right? It's enough to let his imagination run wild," she smirked.

I rolled my eyes at her antics yet kept a light smile on my lips. It was a good idea. I just felt so out of my element, so I was trying my hardest to warm up to the idea before stepping foot into the party. I wanted to come across as confident as ever, to catch his attention, and to make him realize that maybe I have a chance compared to the other girls he's been with or at least seen around campus with.

After 10 minutes walking, we arrived at the frat house. There were a few people loitering around outside. Most girls were wearing ripped jeans or very short black skirts. There were a few fraternity brothers gathered up at the front, a few I recognized - Joshua, Wonwoo, and Seungcheol. They were looking across the groups gathered outside of their residence, probably trying to see how they could minimize the appearance to avoid cops showing up. Yet, Wonwoo was looking directly at me with a smug girl. He was probably the closest with Mingyu so I knew him the best.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He called out to us. Some people on the sidewalk and the two guys beside him looked our way. I groaned internally at Wonwoo's commotion before approaching the entrance of the party.

"How the hell did Mingyu convince you to come, doll?" "I lost a bet to the devil." "Well, you can go ahead inside. I'm sure Mingyu is keeping an eye out for you." "Oh come on, he probably sensed her already out here. He was basically buzzing off the walls when he was telling me we would be graced with y/n's presence tonight," Seungcheol laughed. "Be careful, y/n. I heard he likes to bite," Joshua teased.

I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from blushing hard. It's not like I haven't fantasized about him like that before.

The three guys grinned at me, stepping out of the way to let me and my roommate through. Instantly, we were greeted by groups of people all drinking, mingling, and dancing. You could hear the bass from downstairs through the floor, as we were on the main floor.

My roommate pushed me through towards the kitchen. I looked at her puzzled, thinking the initial plan was to find Mingyu. "You need a drink to loosen up first, babes. Trust me. You look terrified right now, not sexy." I just nodded as we were found ourself in a somewhat crowded kitchen. Yet, there was a pathway to the collection of alcohol on display - tequila, gin, vodka, rum with a plethora of mixers. Definitely Mingyu's idea to have more mixers than alcohol, so everyone could drink to their comfort level.

We were by the kitchen island, almost in our own little world. The groups around us were quickly grabbing their refills before either moving away to a different part of the house or to the main event in the basement. Before I could even process anything, a shot glass was placed in front of me, seeing my roommate looked at me with a wicked grin. "Choose your poison, y/n."

My eyes scanned the liquor before reaching towards the tequila. My hands were about to grasp the handle but I took a quick surveillance. Where could it be? "Looking for these, princess?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see the man of the hour, Mingyu. In one hand, he was holding a container or salt, and in his other hand was a lime. Speak of the devil. He was wearing a black shirt and black pants. A gold chain was around his neck. I would love to just grab that chain and tug his lips close to mine. Okay, I do need a drink. ASAP.

"How did you know?" "Feel like I know you pretty well, but still wasn't sure if you were going to show up tonight. I figured I would still prep just in case. Welcome to my kingdom," he teased.

He crossed the room to be where were. For a moment, I could have sworn his eyes traveled my body. First at the dress before looking up and down my torso and legs. I had spun to face him more directly. It was then I could have sworn his eyes were on my chest before he made eye contact with me. He set the salt and lime to my right, in between my roommate and I. His other hand rested on the countertop to my other side, somewhat caging me.

"You're just full of surprises. First, disappearing on me at the coffee shop, but now actually showing up to my party? And now wanting to do tequila shots?" "Just scratching the surface," I smirked.

My roommate shared glances between Mingyu and I. But before I could introduce her to him, she stepped back completely. My eyes widened slightly but she wore that same smirk from before. "I think I'm gonna let you two catch up. I'm going to go talk to that one guy outside," she announced. I couldn't even argue with her to stay before she headed out of the kitchen.

"And then there were two," Mingyu announced. Seeing as my roommate had wondered off for her own adventure, Mingyu placed his hand fully beside the salt and tequila. I was fully in the lion's den now.

I mustered up the courage to look him in the eyes. It was then I noticed that the entire kitchen had cleared out. When did that happen? Did people just leave seeing Mingyu walk in? The thought of him having that type of authority made me weak in the knees.

"Wonwoo wasn't lying when he said you looked absolutely breathtaking tonight, baby," he murmured.

His hand to my right moved to rest on my side. His fingers slowly trailing up and down my side, teasing the waters. His touch was light, almost not there. It was enough though for electricity to shoot through my body, making me hyperaware this was reality and not some fantasy.

"You talking about me to others now?"

He leaned forward, enough so he just had to bow his head down to be at my ear. "You're all I talk about. You don't even know," he whispered. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, enough to cause goosebumps to form and shivers to run down my spin. If it wasn't for the countertop pressing into my back gently, my knees would have given out.

"Come on, I have something better than just doing shots all night," Mingyu said. He reached down to grab onto my head, lacing his fingers with mine. His touch was warm and soft, sending shockwaves through my nervous system. I didn't get a chance to question him where we were going before he led me out of the kitchen. He just turned back towards me and gave me a wink. Oh god.

We made our journey through the frat house towards the split staircase. One that went down to the basement and another that went upstairs, assumedly where the guys slept. People who saw Mingyu turned to try to strike up a conversation but stopped when they saw me by his side. Some girls were throwing daggers in my directions with their harsh gaze. Jennie being one of them before she turned her back to talk to her sorority sisters. How the tables have turned. I expected that Mingyu was going to take me to the basement, but was met with surprise when we started ascending up the staircase. A few of Mingyu's brothers started whistling and howling at the sight of Mingyu with someone.

From in front of me, I heard Mingyu sigh and watched as he shook his head. "I'm sorry about them. Just ignore them. They wished they were getting some action tonight, but I think we both know the only date they'll have is with the toilet when they drink too much."

I laughed at Mingyu's joke. "No worries about it. I guess they are just showing support for their friend?" "Yeah, I guess so. I just don't want you to lump me in with them."

What was that supposed to mean? I never viewed Mingyu at the typical frat guy. I didn't hear stories about him just sleeping after a party and dumping a girl the next day. Sure, he has been linked with a few people, but he didn't seem like the type to do one-night stands. He wasn't the guy who made jungle juice with unknown liquors that could get you fucked up fast. He was meticulous in what was distributed to his party, often hoping people bring their own alcohol so they know what they re consuming. Or at least that's what he told me.

Mingyu soon led me to his bedroom. He walked in through the doorway, but I found myself froze. Was my perception of Mingyu wrong this whole time? Were we just going to fuck? Did I mean that little to him that he was willing to throw our friendship away.

He must've felt the slight tug of his hand due to me stopping my movement. He turned his head back, trying to assess what was wrong. I stood by the doorway, trying to pull my head gently out of his grip.

"Gyu, I don't think this is a good idea. We're friends. Us sleeping together-" "You think I brought you up here to just have sex? Doll, I'm hurt," he gasped. I watched as he playfully placed his hand over his heart. "You think I'm that much of a horny bastard?"

I quickly shook my head before rushing into his room, stopping short of where he stood. "Gyu, please. That's not what I meant at all. I just didn't know why else you'd bring me up here when the party is downstairs? Isn't that why frat guys bring girls upstairs? To fuck?"

He smirked seeing how flustered I got. My cover was slowly unraveling, my motive of having him chase after me being flipped where I was starting to chase after him. "Y/n, you've seen too many movies," he laughed. "Besides, I'd never do anything to jeopardize losing you."

I could feel my cheeks becoming hotter. I hoped at least that was being concealed under the darkness of his bedroom. He stepped back and headed towards his bedroom window. "Do you trust me?" He asked. I nodded my head slowly, trying not to come across as too eager. Any sort of dignity that I could preserve at the moment is of upmost importance.

"Good." Mingyu flipped the lock at the top of his window. He pushed it open all the way until there was a soft thud of the window hitting the top of the window sill. He stepped out onto the roof with ease. He then turned back towards me, a hand reached out to me.

"The things I do for you, Gyu, I swear," I huffed. I took his hand, my other hand trying the best to keep my dress from flying up.

"Watch your head, gorgeous," he called out. This time, his tone was gentle and soft. It was a stark contrast being outside where you could barely hear the music from inside the house. I stepped over the window sill carefully, one foot down before the other following. I was somewhat hunched over to avoid hitting my head. Mingyu took it upon himself to use his free hand to hover over my head in case I did end up standing up too soon.

Once I was over the window and onto the roof, I stood up straight. My eyes widened from the view. "Oh wow," I breathed out. You could see all of campus from up here! You could see the tall oak trees that lined up around campus. You could see the various academic buildings and the college town beside us.

What really took my attention was noticing that there was a blanket sprawled out on the rooftop. Luckily, the rooftop was leveled and next to the fire escape, so there was no worry of slipping or anything. The blanket was added for comfort. I also noticed that there was a bottle of my favorite white wine Moscato chilling in a bucket. There were also string lights that decorated the ledge of the rooftop. It was it's on oasis.

"Come on, angel." He squeezed my hand gently before guiding me towards the blanket. I followed him gently to the blanket where I took my seat, my legs tucking underneath me. Mingyu joined me on the right side, sitting rather close. "Wait, hold on."

He popped up from the spot on the rooftop before heading towards inside. I frowned a bit when he left me alone, but turned my attention to the scenery outside. The warmth from inside the house still radiated throughout my body, so the crisp air of the November evening didn't bother me as much. My eyes ran along with the stars, trying to see what constellations I could make out. It was peaceful out here.

I jumped a bit when I felt something brush against my legs. I looked down to see a leather jacket, but relaxed when I noticed it was Mingyu dropping his jacket over me. I tilted my head back to see him looking down at me, a fond smile on my lips. Yet, there was something in his eyes. Maybe it was the glow of the lights outside making them sparkle more than usual or something on his mind? Either way, he was breathtaking. "Quite the gentleman, Gyu," I teased. "Thank you though." "You know I'd do anything for you. That's also why I set this up for you, for us, really. I know large crowds like the one happening inside aren't your thing, so I wanted to make sure you were comfortable being here." "So you don't do this for every girl?"

Mingyu snorted a bit, chuckling lightly under his breath. He pulled out two red solo cups, handing one to me while keeping the other by him. "No, y/n. Only the best reserved for you."

Carefully, Mingyu twisted off the cap of the wine bottle. He first poured the wine into my red solo cup. I couldn't help but giggle at the notion of drinking wine out of a red solo cup, something that typically holds cheap beer or mixed drinks.

"So that's why I'm getting a red solo cup? To really get the experience of being at a frat party?" "Hey, it's the best I could do," I laughed. "You really trust me with anything breakable?" "No, you're right. If it was a wine glass, you would've dropped it by now," I laughed, taking a sip of the wine. "I told you I'd do anything for you."

I kept my wide smile hidden once from Mingyu when I took a sip of the wine. He was quite the charmer. I placed the Moscato down behind me, by the corner of the blanket to avoid spilling. Mingyu did the same as we both seemed to gaze out at the world around us. It's crazy to think that in a short few months, we'll be saying goodbye to this place. This place has become my favorite place filled with my favorite people.

"So, y/n. What happened early? Why did you just leave the coffee shop?" Mingyu asked suddenly.

My eyes widened at the question. "Oh, you noticed?" I asked softly. My head dropped to look at my lap. "I thought you were busy talking to Jennie. I didn't want to interrupt."

"If anything, she interrupted us," he sighed. He then reached for his cup and took another sip. "Is that what you're afraid of? Being rude?"

I shook my head, picking my head up slightly. No, if only you knew what I was afraid of.

"I'll tell you what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of being alone. I love my life as it is right now, but I'm afraid of the uncertainty that comes with the next chapter," he confessed. He was leaning back on his hands now. His gaze shifting from the view of campus below to me. "I'm comfortable knowing I get to see my friends, get to see you. What am I supposed to do next?"

I frowned hearing his concern. "Gyu, whatever you do next, you're going to do great. I know it's scary about moving away from what you are familiar with. What I can say though is that knowing you, seeing you grow over the past two years, has been remarkable." My hand reached over to rest on his knee comfortingly, giving it a light squeeze. I looked at him directly in the eyes, hoping he could sense my sincerity in my words. "You're a great guy, Gyu. Don't doubt your capabilities. You can do anything you put your mind to."

His gazed looked down towards where my hand was on his. I followed suit. Oh no, did I make him uncomfortable? I was about to retreat my hand from him, but he quickly grasped it gently. "Thank you," he whispered. He lifted my hand to kiss the back of it before letting it rest in his lap. His grip on my hand was loose, in case I wanted to slip my hand away. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"What about you? What are you afraid of?"

I took a deep breath. Mingyu just poured his heart out to me. I would be a hypocrite if I didn't say something, especially when I told him to put his brave face on and be determined to get what he wants. I deserve to at least try, right? Or I could end up regretting it for the rest of my life? That's at least what people warn about.

His gaze on me was soft. He was patient as he waited for me to muster up my truth.

"Loving you," I confessed. "Loving me? You're afraid of that? Why?" "Gyu, let's look at what you did for me tonight alone. You went through the trouble of setting up basically a separate event just for me. This is the shit they write about in romance novels. It just doesn't happen to girls like me!" "Wait, let's back up first. Do you like me, y/n?"

Oh god, oh god. Why did I open my mouth and say something? Maybe I could spin it off that I'm afraid of commitment in general? What if I spun it that I was trying to get over an ex and I was shocked by Mingyu's kind gesture? That he already treats me better than any ex? I mean, there is some truth to that. Mingyu was better than any ex I've had.

"Y/n?"

My mind was trying to wrap around some sort of lie I could tell to save myself. Before I could finalize my lie, I felt a hand on my face. Very slowly and gently, I realized Mingyu put his hand on my face. He was turning it towards me. I also noticed that he had moved closer to me now. He was sitting up tall, his face hovering over mine. He tilted my head up so I had to look at him in the eyes.

"Y/n, do you like me?" "I might have the smallest, tiniest crush on you," I whispered. "How do you think that we could conquer that fear?"

I raised an eyebrow, about to pull back from here. He was really thinking about our final assignment right now? "Because you took the first step in confessing your feelings for me. And you said you were afraid of loving me. It seems seeing if I have the same feelings for you is the best way to conquer that fear." "Well? Do you?" "Baby girl, I've had feelings since our first group project together."

His forehead gently rested against mine. He could probably hear my rapid heartbeat at this point. "Why do you think I've always picked you as my group partner?" "Because I'm smart and can get stuff done?" I laughed, trying to ease my nerves. He chuckled at that joke. "Well, yes, because you are smart. You're also very kind, insightful, determined, and gorgeous. You are the girl that I've been trying to get to come to my party so I could finally make a move in the element I feel most comfortable in. If anything, I'm afraid of you." "Afraid of me? Mingyu, you're 6'2." How can you be afraid of someone who is barely 5'5"?" "Because you are too perfect to me. I know what people think of me. They see the frat president who sleeps with people. When they see you, they see the girl who is going to move mountains when she graduates. They will wonder why you settled for a guy like me?"

That's it. I was not going to allow him to slander himself. Feeling bold enough, I moved Mingyu's jacket off of my legs. I set it beside me before gently climbing into his lap. One hand rested on his shoulder to stabilize me as I got comfortable. My other hand moved to rest on his cheek, now being the one turning his attention towards me.

Mingyu wrapped his arms around me. He pulled me in close, tightening his arms so I wouldn't fall backwards by mistake. My heart picked up as I felt my breathing become a bit shaky. Was this actually happening? "If you saw what I see, you would see that you are everything that I want. That's why I'm afraid of loving you because you seem too good to be real," I confessed. "Well let me help you overcome your fear by proving to you this is reality."

Mingyu leaned in slightly. He stopped himself short, where his lips were brushing against mine. He looked up into my eyes to see if I felt comfortable. My heart melted at the simple act of checking for consent. See. He was one in a million.

Taking it upon myself, my lips pressed against his fully. I could feel his smile against my lips as he tilted his head ever so slightly. Just enough for our lips to be pressed together perfectly, causing the kiss to move smoothly as our lips were catching one another's. His lips were just as smooth. He tasted like wine mixed with a bit of mint chapstick. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. This was actually happening. My one hand slid from his shoulder to rest on the back of his head.

He was the one who slowly broke the kiss. I pouted playfully, as it ended far too soon for my liking. He chuckled lightly before pecking my lips.

"Don't worry, darling. There will be more kisses." "That wasn't so scary after all," I confessed. "I'll help you conquer any fear of yours if you let me."

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