Work Text:
469
r/sex · Posted by u/urlikeastar 6 hours ago.
Am I weird for giving my hookups goodie bags when they leave??
I can’t find a flair that fits
So I (20M) have a very,,, active? sex life. I always suggest bringing people to my place since I’ve got my own apartment and it’s just way less awkward without worrying about roommates. But this also means I’m always the one that gets to sleep in after and it kinda makes me feel bad 🥲. Like, people treat me so well, it’s always a nice time, and then just… kicking them out feels rude.
So, I’ve started making goodie bags for all my hookups! Just little things—a bag of chips, a bottle of tea, a sandwich, some tea bags and $20 in case they wanna get coffee or need to uber home.
I thought it was a nice gesture but my friends say it’s insane. So now I’m getting self conscious and just wanna know… is this actually weird or just considerate 🥲
(Also I’m gay if that makes a difference.)
40 comments 
Share 
Save 
Hide 
Report 88% Upvoted
What are your thoughts? Log in or Sign up log in sign up
Sort by
🌳
Riku never really imagined himself as the frat party type, but then again, he also didn’t imagine he’d successfully befriend popular boy Mark Lee, so he guessed the world is full of surprises.
An unfortunate downside to being friends with Mark Lee is the constant invitations to frat parties. It wouldn’t be so bad if the rest of the frat weren’t completely batshit insane, but Riku’s been permanently scarred from being within 50 metres of Jaemin and Jungwoo while drunk. Let’s just say he’s been evading every Sigma Nu Chi party since. He also thinks he can never look at a ping pong ball the same way again, but he really doesn’t want to unpack that.
He does his best to quietly nurse his Coke in the far corner of the dance floor, praying Mark will come back and guide him around like a lost duck like he always does. He pointedly ignores the sound of Jaemin’s shrieks from across the room, hoping he can go unnoticed. But when Jaemin’s head starts moving dangerously close to where he’s standing, Riku panics. He whips around, the liquid in his paper cup sloshing violently—and splashing tragically—onto a tall, innocent victim.
“Oh my god,” Riku squeaks. His hands instinctively fly out to rub at the drink soaking into the man’s shirt, only to realise:
- It is entirely inappropriate to touch a stranger’s abs unprompted.
- His fingers are doing absolutely nothing to fix the situation.
- This guy (in case you missed it) has abs.
Riku pulls away after two seconds and wills lightning to strike him where he stands. “Fuck! I’m so sorry for touching you like that—shit—I really didn’t mean to I just—“
The moment Riku looks up to finally see the man’s face he thinks every ounce of sanity has been drop kicked out of his poor soul. The man is insanely attractive. Thick, nerdy black glasses, soft messy fringe, and a sheepish hand behind his head, serving full “gomen oomf chan” energy with a pitiful expression to match.
He’s a fucking loser. Riku needs to eat him alive.
“So… I’m Riku,” he manages, scrambling to collect himself. Can’t be caught lacking in front of a baddie. Well, moreso than he already has.
“I’m really sorry for spilling my drink on you—I was trying to avoid someone.”
The boy lets out a warm laugh, eyes twinkling under neon lights. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s like a natural trauma response whenever Jaemin hyung looks at you.”
“Huh?” Riku freezes. “How’d you know?”
The boy leans in, fringe so close to brushing against Riku’s forehead. “He’s staring at us,” he whispers, causing tremors to flow through Riku’s body. “Though I think if we walk away together, he’ll leave you alone.”
Riku feels his mouth open and close, the rest of his body hypnotised by those brown eyes and teasing grin. Everything he wants is kind of falling perfectly into place. He’ll have to thank Mark for the invite tomorrow.
Riku puts on his sweetest smile, peers up at the boy like he’s a damsel in need, and whispers right back. “Great idea. And I can help you get out of that soaked shirt.”
The rest of the night moves in a pleasant blur. They find their way into the guy’s—Daeyoung’s—apartment. Riku distantly processes the well-kept potted plants, the tidiness of each room, and the Totoro plush that gets pushed off the bed when they land. But once their clothes are stripped off, and Daeyoung’s warm mouth wraps around Riku’s dick, he forgets the minor details.
The next morning, Riku wakes up groggy, the sun peaking obnoxiously through the blinds. He quietly puts on his clothes, gathers his things, and tiptoes to the door, fully prepared to ghost like the responsible adult he is. However, before he can finish putting on his shoes, Daeyoung’s sleep ridden voice calls out behind him.
“Don’t forget your goodie bag!”
Riku has half the mind to pretend he didn’t hear him and just sneak away—but the memory of Daeyoung’s sweet smile and the diligence of following Riku’s every command aches in his conscience. With a sigh, he slinks back toward the bedroom door, cracking it open cautiously.
“Sorry… what?”
Daeyoung is still half asleep, hair a mess and red marks blotched against his skin. Riku blushes at the sight of his work under pure sunlight. It looks good on him.
“Your goodie bag,” Daeyoung repeats, already rolling over and burrowing into the blankets. “It’s on the kitchen counter. You can take one before you go.”
Riku crinkles his nose, confused, but finds himself walking over to the kitchen anyway. He doesn’t know how he missed it last night—well, okay, he knows how—but still, this is… outrageous.
Displayed like a pack of blind box figures, a large cardboard box sits on the kitchen counter, filled with at least twenty neatly folded, brown paper bags. In a bright green marker, the writing at the front reads:
“Feel free to take a goodie bag! No traces of nuts in any of the food. If you need gluten free options or have any other dietary concerns please wake me up and let me know! (I’ve got plenty of other snacks stocked!)”
What the fuck.
After a moment of hesitation, he grabs one of the bags and peeks inside, bracing himself for something illegal, deranged, or both.
Instead, he finds:
- A bag of chips
- A pack of tea bags
- A sandwich wrapped in beeswax paper
- A bottle of Lipton iced tea with “Don’t forget to recycle! :)” scribbled on a sticky note
- A neatly folded $20 bill
- And a Ghibli-patterned memo that reads: “Thanks for last night! Get home safe :)”
Riku pinches his own arm. Hard.
Nope. Still real.
He glances from the bag in his hands to the box on the counter, eyes widening as it sinks in—there’s so fucking many. Does he sleep around that often or is he just that prepared? What kind of guy does something so sweet but also so stupid????
Clutching the bag to his chest, Riku slips on his other shoe with one hand and locks the door behind him before heading out.
The ride down the elevator, and the fast walk back to the street is all a blur as images of last night sink in his mind.
By the time he pulls out his phone, he barely registers the barrage of notifications:
- Mark’s worried texts
- Jaemin’s… well, Jaemin’s texts
- And a flood of messages from the group chat.
🌳
Sion sighs, slumping against a tree as sunlight glimmers across the river. He’d just finished his shift at the local zoo. But, as much as he loved working with animals, the 15 hours of work placement a week were slowly killing his social life and sleep schedule.
He checks his phone to see a notification from the group chat. Yushi and Riku are at a café eating sundaes. Sion wants to cry. He fires off a bitter reply before pocketing his phone with a sigh.
He still has an awkward hour and a half to kill before his tutorial. Usually, he spends it napping on the grass. But today, something interrupts his plans—the sound of faint singing.
The veterinary campus sits a little isolated from the rest of the uni, closer to the zoo and student-run animal shelter. So it’s not weird to spot people walking the river path. It is weird to see a guy—singing, swaying, practically dancing—while wielding a giant rubbish bag, tongs, and gloves.
Sion tucks his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them as he watches, equal parts entertained and curious.
The guy practically frolics along the riverbank, picking up trash like he’s in his bedroom, singing to a pop song only he can hear. The worst part? He’s actually good. At singing, at dancing… and way too handsome for someone hauling garbage.
Sion glances at the time. Still an hour to kill. His tiredness fades, replaced by growing curiosity.
Before he can think better of it, he gets up and strolls over.
The closer he gets, the more detail sharpens—the toned limbs, the gentle curve of the guy’s smile as he sings under his breath. He does a sudden spin, striking a playful pose—before freezing, eyes wide, when he sees Sion standing there.
Sion chuckles, amused at how flustered the guy looks. “What are you doing?” he asks lightly.
The guy fidgets, looking ready to combust. “Oh, I—uh—I’m doing… an hour for Earth?”
Sion raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling. “Cute. Your little performance was… cute too.”
The guy’s face turns scarlet, and Sion has to suppress a laugh.
“I just… It gets kinda boring picking up rubbish,” he admits, sheepishly. “I get carried away when I listen to music.”
Sion laughs, the sound light and easy. “Could be worse hobbies.”
A brief pause lingers, before Sion gestures toward the gloves and bag. “Vet student?”
The guy blinks. “Huh?”
Sion takes a step closer, just enough for his voice to come out more clearly. “Are you a vet student?”
“Oh! No, no. My friend is—I was visiting him before class. Sorry, music’s kinda loud,” he adds, gesturing vaguely to his ears.
Sion grins, adding a teasing lilt to his voice. “Mind if I help with that?”
The guy hesitates, then nods shyly. “Sure. The case is… in my back pocket.”
Sion raises both eyebrows, fighting back a grin. “Trusting, aren’t you?”
“Uh… yeah,” the guy laughs but doesn’t back away.
Sion reaches carefully, fingers ghosting along the back pocket before retrieving the case. He pops the earphones out gently, brushing the guy’s ear with feather-light fingers. The guy practically melts on the spot.
“Better?” Sion asks.
“Y-Yeah…” The guy’s voice is barely audible.
A pause settles between them, and then:
“Wanna walk with me?” the guy offers, still pink-cheeked. “I’m Daeyoung, by the way.”
Sion checks the time—forty minutes till class. He looks at Daeyoung again, at the rubbish bag, the gloves, the lingering bashful smile.
“Sure,” he says. “I’m Sion.”
Somewhere along the walk, Sion stops checking the time altogether. They walk along the river, chatting, laughing. Sion even accepts a spare pair of gloves, helping Daeyoung pick up trash.
The walk turns into coffee, and coffee turns into Sion pressed up against Daeyoung’s apartment door, his mouth curled into a smile as Daeyoung fumbles with the keys, hopelessly flustered.
It’s… cute. The apartment is cute too—plants everywhere, insanely neat for a uni student. By the time they stumble into bed, Sion’s already decided he likes him.
The next morning, Daeyoung’s still fast asleep when Sion wakes. The boy looks so cute, his cheek squished against his pillow.
Sion’s in no rush. He stretches, takes his time finding his clothes on the floor and getting dressed. He even fills his water bottle at the kitchen sink when he notices it.
A cardboard box on the counter, filled with tidy rows of brown paper bags, and neat handwriting detailing “goodie bags” and “dietary preferences”. He grabs a bag and peeks inside, utterly charmed by the sight of snacks, iced tea and little handwritten notes.
Sion shakes his head as he laughs. “Unbelievable,” he mutters under his breath.
He grabs his tote, rummages for a pen, and tears off a scrap of paper. He jots down his number and adds a quick “Text me sometime :)” before heading out.
🌳
Yushi likes to think that he’s prepared. He watches his lectures and makes notes before each class. He submits his assignments three days ahead of the deadline. He has a colour coded google calender with every detail of his life mapped for the next six months.
Some think he’s a bit over prepared. Or that it’s all a bit too much. Yushi would counter those ideas easily. He isn’t prepared because he wants to be. It’s because he has to.
The truth is, his memory is terrible. His focus is even worse. He doesn’t naturally keep up with things, doesn’t follow through. The first semester of completely unstructured, independent university life made that painfully obvious. Without rigid systems in place, his life collapses.
Which is why, for the eleventh time this winter, Yushi has forgotten to bring an umbrella. He knows it’s literally hanging on his door. He needs to add ‘umbrella’ to his calender.
Worst of all it’s a particularly unforgiving pour. Usually, Yushi can get away with running across campus, bag over his head slinging along his broken pride.
But this particular storm—heavy, thunderous, buckets of rain, harsh winds that make the drops hit him even under shelter—looks like it’s going to take what’s left of Yushi’s injured pride and stomp all over it like a mud puddle. Yushi glares at every other student and faculty member walking leisurely with umbrellas in hand. It’s like they knew it was gonna rain or something!
He must look particularly upset—or really mad—because he suddenly feels someone poking his shoulder.
“Um… hey, I’m sorry to bother you. It’s just, I noticed you don’t have an umbrella? I just finished class, and I can walk you to the nearest store, or wherever you need to go if you want?”
Yushi turns, fully prepared to politely decline and keep his dignity—only to lose every coherent thought immediately.
It’s then that Yushi comes face to face with what can only be an angel. Dainty eyelashes giving way to shiny eyes, pink lips pursed in concern, and hair laying peacefully on his forehead despite the harsh wind. Yushi swears the stormy clouds part just to grace a halo of light upon the man’s pretty features.
“Oh,” is all Yushi really manages to say. He kind of hopes he can just stay here forever—eternally stuck staring at this kind face.
His blatant staring lasts for quite a while, the other boy frozen in place but skin progressively flushing more by the second.
“Um…” The boy squeaks out. Yushi watches with rapt attention, as the guy swallows.
“Yes,” Yushi decides to save him. “I would really appreciate it if you could lend me a hand.”
“Oh! Cool!” The boy immediately brightens. “Just let me know where you wanna go—you can lead the way!”
They end up making their way to the closest 7/11. Yushi scans through the umbrella aisle before making his purchase. Daeyoung meets him outside, and hands him a cream bun.
“You said you were hungry,” Daeyoung offers. “And you said you like sweet bread, so…”
Yushi blinks up at him, momentarily stunned. “Thank you… You really didn’t have to. I feel bad—I could’ve bought it myself.”
Daeyoung lets out a shy laugh, his cheeks rosy. Yushi can’t tell if the blush is from the cold or embarrassment.
“It’s okay, hyung. Besides, your eyes were really locked in on getting an umbrella. I thought you might forget to feed yourself.”
Yushi had only mentioned liking snacking once—a passing comment on their short walk over. The harsh wind braces his body, yet he still feels entirely warm.
“Well, it was nice meeting you hyung. I hope you get back safe!”
Daeyoung turns and takes two steps before Yushi lunges in his direction, hand gripping loosely over the his wrist.
“Wait!” Yushi blurts. “What’s your number? Or your instagram? You know… So I can repay you for your time. And the bread.”
Spontaneity isn’t really his thing. But something tells him if he lets this boy slip away, he’ll regret it.
“Oh! Sure!” Daeyoung beams.
They exchange numbers and accounts, and Yushi finds himself practically fleeing in the opposite direction. His dorm is technically the same way Daeyoung’s headed—but Yushi doesn’t think he can survive walking beside him any longer. His heart’s doing some weird fluttery thing, and he’s fairly certain he’s physically radiating affection from his pores.
It’s a few days later of good morning texts and conversations that don’t seem to end when Yushi finally does it. He kicks out his roommates despite their incessant and invasive questioning. He cleans up their messy space, and asks Daeyoung if he’d like to cook together.
Before Daeyoung arrives, Yushi checks himself in the mirror. Everything is perfectly set in place. He’s kept his door wide open, just so Daeyoung can have the opportunity to ask “hey, is this your room?”. He’s got their one surviving house plant—their third attempt—in the middle of the dining table, just to show off to plant-lover-Daeyoung. But most importantly, he has on his ‘fuck me’ ensemble. A simple white tee that’s cropped just enough for his stomach to peek through when he stretches, and a pair of blue shorts that stay loose around his hips and trail high up his thighs.
He smirks when he finally opens the door allowing Daeyoung in, and the taller boy just stands there and stares. Yushi hopes smugly that they’ll at least get to cook a bit before they pounce on each other. But when he smoothly trails his soft fingers up the veins of Daeyoung’s arms—a sweet gesture to take off the tote bag on his shoulder—Yushi doubts they’ll get to the kitchen at all.
When Yushi wakes up the next day it’s to an empty bed.
For a brief, pathetic moment, he curses the cold sheet beside him. But when he grabs his phone and sees a message from Daeyoung—something about having a ‘family emergency’—he figures that maybe their relationship isn’t completely done for.
He stretches out of bed and starts to clean up the evidence of Daeyoung’s stay—his clothes across the floor, the rumpled sheets. When he gets to straightening the dining table from where it was haphazardly pushed against the kitchen counter, he notices it.
A neatly folded, brown paper bag placed beside the houseplant. On the front, in tidy handwriting, a sticky note reads:
“Thanks for last night, hyung! :) Here’s a goodie bag!”
Yushi blinks. He cautiously peeks inside.
Snacks, food, drinks, handwritten notes, a $20 bill and a cream bread. Yushi stares, slowly sets the bag down, and slams his hands against the table. Poor Toto—Daeyoung’s name for the plant—shakes from the impact.
This guy’s insane. Yushi thinks. This guy’s insane and I need to bag him if it’s the last thing I do.
He quickly grabs his phone and opens the group chat.
🌳
It’s the tenth time since Mark has invited Riku to a Sigma Nu Chi party, which means Riku’s used up all his ‘appropriate amount of times to decline an invite before sounding like an ungrateful douche’ tokens.
He usually dreads those insane parties, but… the last one did lead him to Daeyoung. So maybe they’re not all bad.
He still refuses to go alone though, and he doesn’t have the courage to ask Daeyoung. He’ll feel too bad, sending Daeyoung into that lion’s den when he was probably dragged into these parties by his friends like Riku does.
So, he defaults to his best friends. Despite Sion previously begging to let him come with him—back when all his time was chained to zoo placements—the second he has a free day that aligns with a party, he bails. And Yushi? Yushi never wants to go. But still. The audacity. Just because they’ve both got crushes now doesn’t mean they can abandon him in frat hell.
So, after a frankly Oscar-worthy guilt trip, he convinces them to come. As bodyguards. And to not look like a loser.
They still complain about it though.
“What the fuck,” Yushi scowls when they reach the gates. There’s a wide brick pathway leading to the house, with drunk people passing out and loitering along like they’re rocks in the path. There’s an eerie lack of people on the lawn—just a few sat peacefully on picnic mats.
The three maneuver through the crowd to finally enter the house. Instantly, the smell of cheap cologne, alcohol, and—Yushi is gonna gag—vomit hit them in the face. On the floor, there’s a guy eating confetti. Yushi wants to go home.
“Hey, hey, hey we can’t leave yet!” Riku scolds when Yushi spins around to the door. “We need to at least say hi to Mark hyung! Then we can find a corner to stand in for an hour. Then we can go home.”
Sion lets out a dramatic whine. “I never get to go out and we’re already here. Can’t we at least get tipsy and dance?”
Yushi groans, but gives in, because he’s soft. Riku nods in agreement, scanning the house for Mark Lee so he can give his hello.
They make their way deeper into the house, and it’s when Riku finally spots him that his mouth goes slack.
“Dude, why’d you stop—“
“Riku! Bro!” Mark shouts excitedly from across the room. He’s sitting at the couch at the end of the dance floor, full manspread, surrounded by his usual crowd—Jaemin, Jisung, Jeno—but most importantly…
Daeyoung.
Kim fucking Daeyoung.
Kim fucking Daeyoung who majors in sustainability and environmental management, gives out goodie bags to his fuck buddies and apparently, also, comes to frat parties wearing Sigma Nu Chi merch on a Wednesday night.
That Kim Daeyoung is right in front of him doing body shots off of Park Jisung’s collarbone.
“What the fuck?!” Riku screeches.
Sion follows his gaze, and freezes up immediately.
“…Why does he have a frat hoodie.”
Yushi’s jaw physically drops. “Why is he here?!”
Before they can fully spiral, Mark is walking over to them with a pleased grin and ushering them to the couch.
“Yo! You guys made it!” Mark cheers. “Come say hi to Daeyoung, he’s told me aaall about you guys!”
The three are unable to speak as Daeyoung turns. His eyes lock with theirs, morphing from pleasant confusion to pure, unfiltered terror.
“Oh my god,” Daeyoung croaks, and it’s the highest Riku’s ever heard his voice. Which, frankly, is saying something. “No. No, no, no—you guys—oh my god—”
Jaemin cackles from the other side of the couch, lazily maneuvering over Jisung to sit beside Daeyoung. He slings his arm around him, and revels in the way Daeyoung hides his face in his hands. The three newcomers glare at the casual touch.
“Look at him,” Jaemin snickers. “You broke him. He’s short-circuiting.”
Mark chuckles, patting Daeyoung’s back like he’s proud of him.
“Be nice, Jaem. He’s shy.”
“Shy?” Jaemin barks a laugh. “Daeyoung? You’re kidding, right? Sweet little Daeyoung? Angel of Sigma Nu Chi?”
He leans in, eyes glittering. “Do you know how many people come up to me at parties like ‘your little frat brother gave me snacks and cash after we—‘”
“Hyung,” Daeyoung whines, shoving him slightly.
Mark rubs his back, “don’t be embarrassed Daeng. You told me you liked them!”
Daeyoung stares, eyes full of betrayal. “Yeah, I told you, you never told me you knew them!”
“That was your mistake, angel,” Jaemin grins. “Hyung knows everyone.”
The three of them stare. Open-mouthed… Processing.
The questions come out quickly.
“You like us? Like… More than just fucking—”
“You slept with these two?! My best friends?!”
“Wait, you—what the—”
Daeyoung visibly shrinks, tugging the hoodie strings so tight they nearly choke him. His ears are bright red.
“Um…”
Jaemin laughs, ruffling Daeyoung’s hair. “They’ve already seen you naked.” Jaemin peers up at the three with knowing eyes. “And hyung’s already outed your cute little crushes for them.”
Daeyoung lets out a noise somewhere between a squeak and a strangled wheeze. “I hate you,” he mutters.
Before the three can fully combust, Jaemin draws his attention to them.
“So… You three just gonna stand there? Or are you finally gonna take him home properly?”
Mark nods, utterly unbothered like Daeyoung isn’t shrivelling beside him.
“Been waiting for that to happen. You have no idea how much he pines, it’s getting sad.”
Daeyoung chokes when Jaemin happily pushes Daeyoung into their open arms. Instantly, hands wrap around his skin—his wrists, his waist—curling in possessively.
“Wait, where are you taking me—?”
Yushi grins, showing off all his teeth. “Our place.”
“We’ll explain on the way,” Sion adds, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
Daeyoung’s eyes grow wide, trying to process everything. “You… live together?”
All three of them smirk.
“Yep.”
The ride back is awful. Only because Sion makes it known he does not enjoy being the driver, and Yushi and Riku can’t keep their hands off of him. They’re meaner than normal, pinching and playing with his body like it’s a punishment. Daeyoung wails throughout the whole thing, dick straining against his jeans as he takes everything they give him.
Their clothes are already off before they even choose a room to sleep in. The hyungs fight for a bit before deciding on Riku since technically, he saw him first, and the others are placated by the agreement that they’ll rotate.
Much, much later, the three boys wake to the smell of food. In their kitchen, Daeyoung prepares them brunch, a spread that contains all their favourites.
They haven’t really worked everything out yet, and everything seems too crazy to be true… And yet the sight of Daeyoung, shining brilliantly under sunlight, makes them all feel as though everything will be okay.
🌳
5.4k
r/sex · Posted by u/urlikeastar 2 months ago.
Am I weird for giving my hookups goodie bags when they leave??
I can’t find a flair that fits
Update: this tactic got me three boyfriends?
Never listen to the haters (MARK. JAEMIN.) who think goodie bags are weird—giving snacks to your hookups will get you boyfriends. Three if you’re lucky. And thank you all for your sweet comments! I read and appreciate every one 🥹
Also, Sigma Nu Chi’s “Give an Hour for Earth” event is happening next Sunday! Feel free to come along if you’re interested—we provide gloves and other cleaning tools too!!
127 comments Share Save Hide Report 88% Upvoted
neozone12 points · 6 hours ago
dude… are you looking for more hookups… cuz i deff volunteer
juno258 points · 5 hours ago
always a gay man 😞 my last hookup started hissing when i asked for water
donss0015 points · 5 hours ago
most wholesome shit i’ve seen on this subreddit 🥲 it’s not weird at all you’re so sweet!!!
hotsauce3 points · 5 hours ago
ur actually TOO considerate. sounds like better hospitality than a hotel
lovetalk17 points · 4 hours ago
kick out and ghost anyone that doesn’t appreciate your goodie bags they don’t deserve your time!!
tothefuture7 points · 2 hours ago
whichever guy bags you is so lucky 😭