#(despite being in a place that is actively stressing him out) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ybklix · 6 months ago

Text

stressed out

★ pairing: dr!chrisbang x fem!uni student reader

✦summary: Your session with Dr. Bang gets interesting when he kindly decides to relieve the stress you're carrying from the last days of university before the summer break, without knowing that all the tension in your body is due to the great desire you have for him.

✭ content - tags - warnings: MDNI 18+ , smut, oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, slightly dirty talk and praise kink, use of nicknames.

word count: 7.7k

—masterlist—

a/n: yk me, a little story that leads to smut.

It was your last day at the university, one more semester finished. You were so close to free yourself from that heavy semester at the university, but somehow you didn't feel so free at all, you were still worried about getting good grades, you knew you would pass everything without difficulty but you were a little demanding with your grades, so you were nervous, and you left your last class a little crestfallen, something that the rest of the students celebrated non-stop, you sighed, you had heard in the distance of the infinity of parties planned, the perfect vacations of the rest, but you could only think about packing all your things without worrying and your mother who would be waiting for you outside the university to spend the summer at home.

Despite being a bit stressed and upset about the soon to be released grades, you had dressed up to finish a cycle feeling cute; you had a nice outfit and your makeup intact so you thought about calling your friends to hang out for a while, who had skipped the last class downplaying it and self-assigning them the break, you checked your group chat and read that they would be in the coffee shop across the building if you wanted to join them... but in the midst of the campus and student chaos, you realized it was Friday. Friday. Of which usually aren't just those days for you. You knew so well what day it was in the morning so you picked the perfect outfit for it, but between the stress and caos of being the last day, you became unaware of the rest of your activities.

Every Friday, at least since this semester, since for a long time it used to be Wednesdays, you had counselor sessions with Dr. Bang, an overworked psychiatrist with four jobs at once, director of a mental institution, his own consulting room, professor and simply student counselor, Bang didn't want to take the big job of being a therapist for the students but upon detecting any alarming problem he was well within his rights to ask the student for professional help, with their cooperation and consent, clearly. You met Dr. Bang just at the worst time of your life, but the timing was perfect, he managed to break you out of a hole that seemed to have no way out.

You had a very painful loss just before finishing high school that altered your mental health completely, your father passed away and a month later you finished your high school studies, so that did not affect so much your streak of student excellence, by that time you had everything ready for admission to any university of excellence for which you applied. Until the university you always dreamed of accepted you and in a short time you were dealing with grief and the pressure and stress of a new place and environment, you moved away from home promising your mother to continue being a good student, but you were in a deep depression and had recurrent anxiety attacks, terrified that you were not good enough, which complicated your studies… and more when without thinking, you planned and considered leaned for health sciences, pushing you to the limit. You were so embarrassed because all your life academically you were a complete overachiever and suddenly you couldn't cope with college, you felt more awful, a total disappointment; so with a mediocre grades -for you- you passed the first semester and continued the next one, this time committing to do your best and going to therapy, plus your mom noticed the obvious alarming signs the few times she saw you during your winter break, she understood the magnitude of things and offered you to take a break, but you were not like that, you couldn't take it or you would feel things would get worse. You switched dorm buildings and that's when you met him… in one of the study halls near your building, one random Wednesday afternoon when you decided to study, 'Counselor Dr. Bang', engraved on the plaque on that door at the end of the hallway… it sort of caught your attention, you thought if counselors in high school was the same as in college and that if anything... he could give you more of a vocational orientation than a psychologist; since you had tried everything, your old study method, countless other techniques, going to study in groups with your smug classmates with superiority complex, but nothing worked for you to retain important information, you thought that maybe you needed someone mature who could guide you.

After that day, you tried to get together to study again in a group, exactly in the room of that building and out of mere curiosity you asked what in particular does 'Dr. Bang', to which you remember perfectly that suddenly all their eyes were focused on you, “Oh, he's also a psychiatrist, he helps a lot, from what I've heard”, you remember their answers.

You then asked how come you could get close to his help, but you were surprised by the sudden exaltation of one girl out of the other 3 in the group.

“Girl, don't go see Dr. Bang, he's mine” you remembered that time your classmate started joking. The others laughed however you found it strange.

“I'm not kidding, I'll finish med school and marry him,” the girl continued.

Another of your girl classmates replied, “Good luck with that. I don't think he would settle for just a girl finishing med school… I mean he has been working here for a while and he's never been known to have a single affair with a student or a recent graduate, you don't even know for sure if he has a wife or kids, he's very private. But I do hear he's important in every job he has.”

“For him I'll find the damn cure for cancer if that's what he wants…wait, when is he going to be our professor?”

“Mmm, I guess until senior…”

“I can't wait” replied the girl excitedly for Bang.

“I honestly don't think you'll make it until senior” added another girl there amused.

One guy rolled his eyes as he overheard the conversation and called for your attention to forget the little twisted comments, “He's really nice, you can go with him anytime, but… to have recurring sessions with him, I think you need to validate that you're really fucked up, since he has a pretty busy schedule.” You nodded, paying attention to him.

“Next week I'll prove I'm a psycho to see him all the time” the girl joked again.

That afternoon the other guys simply laughed, but in you a seed of curiosity had been planted and…. you didn't want to be rude, but their study group was not helpful to you and was not bearing fruit at all, so the next day you went to the mental health department of your university and requested meetings with Dr. Bang, while presenting your long history of appointments with your therapist and your difficulty with learning, so initially the manager suggested you go directly to a female counselor, to make you feel more comfortable... so you didn't have the slightest problem, however he mentioned that he would tell Dr. Bang, as he cleared each of his students beforehand and on Monday you received an email confirming your schedule with Bang on Wednesday afternoons.

And since then your adventure began in late February two years ago. It wasn't until you finally got in and met him that you understood all of your classmate's comments, he was an incredibly attractive and intelligent man. Bang was about to quit after considering working long enough as a counselor, he wanted to focus on less work and prioritize the ones he considered more important… as well as organize and relocate his social life, he wanted to focus on making a life, meeting a woman to marry since his last relationship lasted but was unsuccessful, one of the few things Bang was unsuccessful at was love, Bang was beginning to give up on the search for a relationship, and even considered devoting himself completely to his work and studying another specialty. To cope with the loneliness he used to have casual sex with naïve, young, pretty nurses that made them lose their sanity, but he never took anything seriously, until he met you. You made him stay and he didn't want to admit it, until recently.

Bang saw you, so helpless and vulnerable… and he found something in you that he had never felt before. He saw himself in you, an overachiever. Bang in his early days also had his problems that had caused him to lose focus on what he fought so hard to achieve. Listen to your story was like listening himself.

And so two years went by, he taught you absolutely everything he knew, having study sessions which motivated you and your meetings were reflected in your good grades… however, Bang's admirers found it a little strange that after so long he never officially discharged you, so they began to speculate small rumors that did not pass away from your classmates, but he couldn't, you both enjoyed each other's company so much. So just at the beginning of the year, he decided to move your typical Wednesdays to Fridays, when he usually did not attend the university, but he did it exclusively for you, plus being almost the weekend, students did not resort so much to the study hall, making your visits more discreet.

After so long, the two of you created a purely professional union… until recently, last year before your winter break, when the little flirtations finally began, the complicit glances, the double entendre comments, the slight friction when sitting so close to each other and… for the first time, this year, his touch towards you. He was always there, a year after your meetings you confessed to him your deepest sadness and the reason why your mental health and ability to concentrate were affected, to which he saw you as he had never seen you before, so bad and down, so that every anniversary of your father's death you made a small comment which Bang immediately comforted you and made you feel good, until a little over a month ago, you were more than sad, you were stressed in some way, you lived with the burden of knowing that your mother was sad and lonely, you wanted to focus completely on the university and you still had the pain of the departure of that someone, so Bang slowly persuaded you to tell him exactly how you felt and… slowly and gently he began to massage your shoulders, an act that surprised you but helped too much, you hadn't had contact or that kind of attention in years as you were too busy at school and suddenly the pressure of his fingers on your tense muscles felt so good; after massaging you, he said a little awkward and with a nervous chuckle if that was okay with you, so you couldn't agree more. And his massages continued, but the next time you felt it differently, maybe because you were ovulating and you really liked Dr. Bang, but from then on you left his office feeling aroused.

With him everything was easier for you, you felt that it was unfair to others, but you were still incredibly lucky to have him, every week he would sit with you and help you study every single complicated topics of extremely important subjects, he was your individual tutor, you admired him more and more, he was a know-it-all. Then you got to know more about his personality a little bit… he was quite kind and tender, a little bit strange, nervous and rambled too much with what he wanted to say but, he helped you so much that now you stood out among the whole student body and you even felt that you changed your habits, suddenly you were more tidy and… you would occasionally listen to his favorite music to feel close to him, even though you weren't, when you left that office you didn't see him again until your next session, you rarely saw him walking around the campus, but, it was enough time together that, you got to know each other so well as you slowly let out slight details about yourselves.

You didn't know if he would be there, you had no fixed thing to communicate on other than e-mail and it wasn't something that young people your age regularly use as a purpose of communication… you just waited for him to open the door, you were hesitant to knock… you had both said goodbye last time with a “see you next week” but you had completely forgotten that it would be the last day of school. The study room was a mess, more students celebrating and behaving childishly while you stood outside of your mature counselor's door, wanting to see him one last time before you went home, you knew Bang wouldn't be able to try anything with you so you don't want to waste energy trying to flirt but… seeing him was enough for you, living in the delusion of a life together kept you a little human and not just an academic machine.

You knocked on his door softly, with the same pattern of knocks you unconsciously put together over the years, two knocks, one second and the third knock. Your hopes didn't even manage to dampen, as he opened the door immediately and your nerves escalated out of all proportion. He smiled at you as he saw you, forming two soft dimples below his mouth, there you were, in front of him waiting for your session with him. You looked up to get a better look at him, Dr. Christopher Bang, looking so breathtaking and masculine, you wanted to let out a sigh but didn't let yourself do it. Bang stepped aside to let you pass and closed the door behind you.

You observed the place, his office decorated in gothic architecture just like the rest of the university, full of wood and bookshelves and, in his chair behind his desk, you noticed his medical gown overlapping on the back of it, you assumed he must have come from the hospital, Chris was wearing dark cloth pants, perfectly ironed white button down shirt, tight to his muscular body and a thin black tie. Just when you couldn't find him more attractive, it was only enough for you to turn to see him again, to make your heart race and your breathing become heavy, sometimes you wondered if for him it was visible the effects he had on you, after all he was the studied doctor.

“Welcome” he said softly.

You walked into the small living room area in his office, into his leather couches, the light was very bright from his large window behind his desk and in front of his living room.

“Hi” you replied, smiling lively.

Chris placed his hands behind his back and walked over to you.

“I thought you weren't coming today, weren't you supposed to be at some party celebrating your last day of school?” he teased you a little.

He always joked that you weren't the party type of girl, you liked to get drunk once in a while but a party full of sweaty college kids wasn't a fun or hygienic option for you, Chris found it adorable.

You let out a giggle and turned your whole body to face him.

“I couldn't miss my last session with you, Dr. Bang” you commented seductively to which Chris swallowed nervously, he was so turned on when you suddenly got that way but as an adult, he had to concentrate.

But even pretending to be flirtatious you couldn't hide your slight grimace at being stressed, your head hurt a little, and uselessly you thought that being with Chris would take the pain away eventually. He knew you so well that, his slight nervousness at being excited changed in a second to concern.

“Everything okay?” he changed his tone and softened the movement of his eyebrows.

You opened your eyes in surprise as he recognized something happening and sketched a smile. You sighed and walked a few steps to the elongated couch and plopped down.

“Yeah… just… same old same old, I'm worried about my grades” you replied worriedly.

Chris let out a chuckle, he couldn't believe the obsessive little monster he had turned you into, you were twenty one years old and you should be worrying about more banal things like… the launching of some celebrity's new makeup line, since makeup was one of the things you were interested in besides being the best.

“You'll do fine” he spoke sweetly to you. Chris was about to approach you but had another idea, heading to his little liquor area. “Well… if you won't go party with guys your own age, then I'll party with you, here's to another successful semester” you heard him say behind you followed by a sound of glass clinking softly.

You turned your body to see him pouring alcohol into two glasses. Your nerves escalated further, it was the first time you would have that kind of activity.

“What is it?” you asked curiously as you watched him attractively approach you with the two glasses ready.

Chris smiled sideways in amusement and sat down next to you, handing you your glass.

“Whiskey, but drink it slow, sweetie.”

You blushed immediately upon hearing him call you that, he gently raised his glass in toast and you clinked your glass with his. Chris didn't drink from his drink until you did, which surprised you. He watched you intently as you brought the glass to your mouth.

“Like this, slowly, and then quickly…” he said in concentration.

You watched him as you did it and found it so appealing, however you closed your eyes tightly grimacing in disgust as you felt the alcohol burn your throat, which distracted you completely. He let out a chuckle as he saw your expression and quickly drank his without difficulty, just a slightly grimacing with his mouth.

“It's a bit strong for many people” Chris added.

“It was for me” you replied pushing the glass away and setting it down on the small table in front of you.

“Are you stressed?” he said suddenly, trying to make conversation.

You nodded softly, running your tongue around your mouth trying to forget the taste of alcohol.

“You know I am… I'm really nervous about the grades, I think they'll be posted tomorrow.”

“Will you be here in the city for tomorrow?” he asked to which you softly shook your head, Chris didn't like that, he could see you every day… but you were a student and practically his patient, it was completely unethical. “And what will you do once you're back in your hometown?”

You smiled at him.

“I don't know, it'll be boring, I'll look for a job, I'll try to be useful.”

Chris looked you straight in the eye and blurted out without thinking.

“My consulting room needs a receptionist… I mean, it's a job and…. you can keep learning.”

He lied, but he could fire his receptionist without thinking if you took him up on the offer. You looked at him puzzled more however you didn't remark your expression so well.

“Dr. Bang… Sorry, I don't have anywhere to stay in the city” you confessed apologetically, not knowing what to say.

Bang lowered his gaze to the glass and his long fingers intertwined in it, he was dying to tell you that that wasn't a problem, you could stay with him as long as you wanted… but once again he had to set limits.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry. Still the offer is well standing.”

“Thank you.”

“Feeling a little more relaxed already?” he asked again, you nodded. “You know… I still remember my last day of the semester when I was twenty-one, there was this party at Delta Psi fraternity… it was a little… weird, I hope things have changed now” he counted animatedly.

You frowned, ready to hear more of his anecdote and founding sweet that he wanted to distract you, but a loud knock on his door followed by noise from outside startled you. Chris sighed in annoyance.

“Will you excuse me?” he stood up, holding his tie and headed for his door.

You stirred in your seat, he looked so fine pissed off and backwards as he walked to the door. Once again you were beginning to tense up, but this time from sexual frustration.

“Can you please stop making noise? You are in college, behave accordingly, or go outside and make noise you want” exclaimed Chris, scolding those outside, he turned to you “Sorry… the noise.”

Chris locked the door as a reflex and sat down again next to you, this time closer to you, you were about to ask him and tell him to resume his anecdote, but you lost yourself in the closeness of his face, and you analyzed the harmony of it, his dark hair, his straight eyebrows, sharp and small eyes, his prominent and attractive nose in combination with his full pink lips; you tensed again and your heart beat got stronger. Chris admired you too, from your perfectly detailed face with makeup, even the nice outfit you were wearing, Bang licked his lips… feeling the tension and a myriad of dirty thoughts crossing his mind and everything he would do to you, if only he would put his morals aside. Chris recalled his vivid memories of being twenty-one… the gentleness and sweetness that girls that age tasted… Chris closed his eyes and gently turned his head away from you, trying to clear each of those thoughts. Of the anatomy of your pussy prostrate on his cock, of you in genupectoral position with the vulnerability of your ass and needy pussy at his mercy.

Fuck, Chris thought, for the first time in all your encounters -and in his entire career- he was getting hard, they were just innocent little flirtations… but just not today, today his body was betraying him as it never had before. Chris cleared his throat and reacted in seconds, he didn't want you to suspect something was wrong so… just this time he decided to put his morals aside and pay attention to his human needs and carnal desires. He was going to fuck you so good that would make you get a fucking apartment just to do it with him every day.

“I'm glad you're okay but…” he said slowly sitting back up and bringing his hands to your weak shoulders, “I still feel you a little tense.”

You almost sighed at his sudden touch, but it was true, your muscles were stiff from being so excited and unable to do anything; Chris wasn't an idiot, this was just a excuse to touch you but he got a big surprise to really find you stressed. But for you more than stress it was frustration.

Chris kept squeezing your muscles until he squeezed a little too hard, causing you to moan; that was it, that alone was enough for Chris to fully sexually arouse him, he was hard and, if it wasn't because you were so focused on yourself not to screw up and not look like a horny mess, you would notice that Bang was in the same situation as you.

“You're so stressed, honey, look at you” he spoke in a thick voice of which surprised you.

You had your eyes closed in embarrassment and it occurred to you to open them as you heard him a little different… concentrating to Chris looking at you with dark eyes of pure desire, weakening your body more in seconds, you saw his strong arms near your shoulders and…. unconsciously you looked down, finally discovering his prominent erection that surprised you at how big it looked. He was as aroused as you were.

“Fuck, y/n, you're so tense… I can feel it… all over your body…” he spoke again excitedly, making your attention focus on him.

You saw him bite his lip and started to lower his hands squeezing your arms.

“Are you stressed, sweetie?” he asked again, until his hands reached your thighs squeezing them.

“Yes” you moaned.

“You’re so tense, I can feel it… more in this place” Bang said squeezing your thigh and directing his fingers to your already wet pussy, “Let me make you feel good, babygirl” he moaned.

Your body jolted as you felt his hands gently spread your legs apart and brush his fingertips across your panties. You couldn't process that he had finally decided to cross that line, but it felt so good. You always wore only underwear under your skirt on purpose for Dr. Bang.

“Relax, relax, make yourself comfortable, babygirl” he spoke softly in his therapist voice combined with desire, making you lean your back against the back of the couch, “Spread your legs, let me make you feel good, are you okay with that?” he raised his eyebrows waiting for an answer.

“Y-yes” you gasped again.

Bang smiled sideways and quickly got down on his knees between your legs, he gently lifted your skirt and admired the fabric of your wet underwear from the situation.

“I'm going to take all the stress off you, okay babygirl?”

You nodded, completely blinded by desire as you watched your chest rise and fall heavily. Chris began to stroke your clitoris over the thin white fabric of your underwear, making you explode in pleasure with his fine touch, he squeezed your entrance and labia, gently stimulating them. You bit your lip trying not to gasp loudly, finally he pulled the fabric aside and looked with estimation at your entrance lubricating itself, so helpless and needy as he opened your folds, making you let out a high pitched whimper.

Chis licked his lips again hungrily, he had never seen another pussy as appetizing and juicy as yours, he was dying to taste it but wanted to focus on your pleasure. He slid down your panties, leaving you bare of your bottom part and you gasped as you felt the cool air brush against your throbbing, exposed pussy.

“Let me make you feel good” he repeated, stroking the length of your folds and labia, “Feels good?”

You nodded again with difficulty, you were beginning to tremble with overstimulation, Bang began stroking your clitoris again, leading to your body, satisfaction and little twitches. You saw his hand play with your pussy from your angle and how he smiled with satisfaction, the sensations were getting stronger and newer for you that you were feeling desperate and so good at the same time.

“Just relax your body, let yourself go, babygirl” he whispered in a low, lustful voice. “I'm going to stick two fingers in you, okay?”

“Yes” you said again this time more yielding, trying to relax your stiff body a bit more, at the same time struggling to keep your legs open as you had no fixed support to leave them on.

Chris again pulled your folds apart to get a better view of your soaking wet little entrance, making you shudder, he gently brushed your entrance and watched your every reaction, so excited and fighting your instincts, then he realized that seeing your pussy was not enough, he wanted to see all of you and touch every corner of your body. Chris stopped touching your pussy for a moment to which you felt as if something was missing. You saw him, his gaze conveyed desire, yet he didn't leave his gentle and sweet countenance.

“But first, babygirl, let your whole body calm down, go on, undress for me.”

You slowly sat up and toke off your blouse as you stared at him while he looked at you expectantly.

“That's it, good girl, undress. I'll do the same, alright?” you bit your lip and heat came to your ears and stomach as you heard him tell you good girl, unsure what he meant after that, you finally took off your bra as well.

Dr. Bang bit his lips at the sight of your bare chest and admired the shape of your tits with nerve and desire, you smiled slightly in satisfaction knowing you had him so turned on too and understood everything when you watched his hand go to his belt, all your attention focused on his deft long fingers unbuckling his belt and then opening the button of his pants, slowly sliding the zipper all the way down, and finding with his tight black boxer and his protruding hard bulge with little drops of precum, suddenly your mouth felt so lonely, you wanted to make him feel good too but didn't know how to say such boldness and, as anxiety consumed you, he finally pulled down his underwear relieving of his big wiggling and growing cock all by itself. You had never felt so eager for a cock this much in your life, you wanted to taste the softness of his red swollen tip coated in his precum and feel every pumping vein of his length. You thought his cock was so attractive and clean looking, just like the bearer of it.

Chris gasped at finally having his cock free, yet he would feel freedom and at the same time captivity when his member is buried deep inside you making you feel good. Only then would he be free, when your muscles completely relax and you overflow your sweet orgasm on him. He smiled mischievously as he saw you not taking your eyes off his cock, Bang knew clearly that he was well endowed and could hurt your tight sensitive hole if he didn't do it carefully, after all he knew perfectly well the anatomy of both sexes and knew the sensations of a big intruder inside a woman's vagina. Chris didn't want to take you and fuck you wildly, his whole life and career was based on discipline and dedication, so he wanted you to enjoy every second of what the sexual act entailed, besides he loved to help you in every possible way, you were always very well behaved with him, you innocently followed his little flirting game but never dared to throw yourself on him, he had to reward you somehow for your good behavior.

Bang came up to your face and looked tenderly into your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly and gently.

You looked into his eyes and then at his full lips in a second and, without even answering him, you joined your lips with his; you found it incredibly tender and ironic how he could ask you such a thing when he had literally seen and touched your pussy just a few minutes ago, plus you looked so docile and submissive, it was clear that you were willing to whatever he wanted to do with you right now, you were so vulnerable. Chris took your face with his left hand which was slightly clean of your fluids, trying not to let his fingers fall completely on your face and gently pulled you away from his lips for your impulsive action, he gave you small sweet sounding kisses, feeling every particle of your organ, enjoying every second as he always dreamed of feeling them and then he kissed you passionately, so intense and united that you felt the pressure of his nose on your face, and made you open your mouth wider to boldly explore your cavity, and feeling your tongue, managing to elicit from both of you heavier gasps and breaths. With his right hand he caressed your neck a little and moved it down to your breasts and nipples, you were so excited and sensitive that you were afraid of cumming at any moment. His nimble hand continued down to caress your pussy again, this time making you moan between the intimate act you were both sharing and leaving you breathless, so he pulled away from you, now moving his mouth caresses down your neck to your sensitive tits, kissing, licking and sucking them delicately while his left hand was in charge of feeling the other one. His hot kisses moved down with his hand, as he kissed your abdomen, his hand squeezed your waist and his grip stopped at your left thigh, until his lips reached your mons pubis where he finally pulled away from you a little after kissing you gently.

Chris happily watched your expression of pleasure, your eyebrows down and your slightly open mouth; his thumb took care of stimulating the sensitive spot of your clitoris as he gently rubbed, once again, along your labia and without warning and with agility, he inserted two of his long digits that you had previously allowed, into your tight entrance, to which you whimpered in shock and pleasure.

Chris could take no more, his cock throbbed more and more with increasing intensity, but he had to hold out a little longer, as he knew that female pleasure could last longer and had to be carefully worked into it. He skillfully fucked your insides, exploring and feeling his fingers slide into the softness of your walls as you gasped with pleasure, harder and harder.

“Shhh, just keep a little quiet, okay, babygirl? I won't stop and I'll keep making you feel good until you cum” he whispered to you.

You pressed your lips together and bit them hard, just emitting gasps full of air coming from the strength in your chest. He was right, you had forgotten all about it once he started touching you, there were people outside his office… and a large window next to you, yet you were on a second floor and between his large desk obstructing the view, you couldn't see clearly.

Chris continued to turn you on and take such good care of your pussy while his fingers were in you; you felt on cloud nine but every now and then you thought if he would let you taste his cock or if you would feel it inside you today, you needed him so bad, your pussy throbbed just thinking about it.

“One more finger, okay?” gasped Chris inserting his ring finger before you could even answer him.

You whimpered again trembling a little in pain, you wanted him to fuck you all at once, you felt incredibly tense and excited that you were no longer thinking straight, but Chris just wanted to get you ready before he was inside you.

“Fuck my fingers, babygirl, c'mon, move on them” he groaned, looking at his fingers stuck in your pussy, then looking at you while you felt his hot breath near your cunt.

You brought your left hand near your mouth trying not to moan so loudly and started to move your hips enjoying his fingers inside you.

“Fuck” you whispered excitedly feeling his bony fingers moving and touching your internal organ.

“Good girl, you're doing it so good, fucking my fingers so well, you're such a good girl, are you enjoying it, sweetie?”

You gasped in response unable to formulate words. Chris smiled proudly, bit his lower lip and inhaled air between his teeth watching the obscenity of his hand at your entrance and your sweet fluids escaping.

“Fuck, you're so fucking wet, look at you. I'm gonna make you feel so good babygirl, I'm gonna taste you” he warned you almost in a whimper.

With his free hand he positioned your tired legs on his broad strong shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy and, leaning a little closer, he pulled out his thick hot tongue running it all over your wet vulva making you explode, closer and closer to your orgasm. Chris gently sucked on your labia and withdrew his fingers from your entrance splashing some of your liquid on his chin.

“Mmm you taste so fucking good, babygirl, what the fuck, so good” he whispered.

Suddenly Chris found himself lost deep in your pussy, he was so loaded of you and he was enjoying it too much, giving you off little vibrations as he tasted you with his hot 'mmh', making your legs tremble, you were so close to orgasm finally. He continued, placing little kisses on your clit and with the tip of his tongue stimulating you quickly in a series of motions, you were so desperate you didn't know where to rest your hands calmly, so you directed your right hand to his head, stroking his hair for the first time. Chris caught your gaze instantly as he felt your hand in his hair and he stared at you as he tasted your clitoris and with one finger gently penetrated your entrance.

You broke eye contact with him as you again felt his tongue and lips run down the length of your folds, you closed your eyes in pleasure and shook your head ready for your orgasm that was slowly contracting in your body. Bang continued, never leaving your sensitive spot once he withdrew his tongue of it, his fingers now caressing it as he was lost in the glorious slurping sound of his mouth in your pussy, until he reached your entrance, parting your folds for better access of his tongue, making you scream, he was eating you out so well you wanted to cry.

You couldn't hold it in any longer and finally released all the tension, climaxing in his mouth as you held back your gasp biting down hard on your lip. Chris pulled away and watched in detail your glistening fluids slide out and your hole throb, he smiled and took it upon himself to clean you, running his tongue one last time before standing up. Cleaning himself around his mouth too, licking his lips.

“I'm gonna fuck you, now, alright?” he moaned, his cock was still hard and needy and his precum droplets ached to come out as he was holding back his orgasm.

You saw his sex, so foreplayed and red; you began to get excited and lubricated yourself again by the obscenity of his cock. Chris accommodated your body, putting your head on the couch cushion and doing his best to make you very comfortable and positioned his body over you, he spread your legs a little more and you saw his tender but intimidating expression of concentration as he inserted his cock into your hole. Bang was a doctor with a specialty, he knew fucking well he was about to have unprotected sex, but he was so lost between desire that, feeling your insides with his fingers and tongue was not enough, his sensitive and swollen cock had to feel it on its own to check how good you feel, thus bare, he wanted all his discharge in you, your vagina unrecognizing his sperm and, he seeing it struggling to squirt the unknown cum, he wanted to fill you completely for being so good with him and studying so hard, you deserved it, finally a great break. And you, always so dedicated, were more than willing to feel Dr. Bang's raw cock inside you.

You gasped and shuddered as you felt his cock enter you, Bang gasped at the sensation of your hole slowly opening to make way for his cock, it was huge, you knew it and you were feeling it, but you still wanted every inch of him in you. Chris had inserted half of his hard limb and you were already gasping with pain and pleasure.

“God, you're so tight, so fucking tight, I want to fuck your pussy so bad” Chirs spluttered panting and excited, bringing out the vein in his neck and forehead.

And slowly, he entered into you fully until you felt his balls gently rubbing against your pussy, you let out a stifled little whimper, even inside you, you could feel his large size and you noticed him bulging in a soft lump in your belly. Chris began to slowly penetrate you, his whole cock inside you, thrusting his hips; you whimpered at the sensation and held yourself entwining your arms around his back still wearing his shirt, feeling the tingle of his tie as it fell and brushed against your chest. He moved his body closer, brought your foreheads together for a moment, staring at you as he kept ramming your pussy hard and sweetly kissed your lips, pulled away from you and positioned his head in the hollow of your neck, feeling and hearing his hot, light moans, turning you on more and, when you thought you were completely sexually satisfied, you felt his hand caress your clit, causing you to reflexively close your legs, squeezing his broad lower torso. Your pussy was so sensitive to every movement and stroke of Chris's cock, you felt his thrusts change a little as you were mindful of the sensation of his cock sliding through your core, you sighed, you were so stressed that you couldn't moan so loudly at the feel of his big dick. The sound of both wet sexes colliding was so obscene, both of you completely devoted to each other.

“You feel so good, fuck, y/n. Moan for me softly.”

Chris loved the feeling of your tight walls squeezing his cock, and your small orifice dilating adapting to his size, after minutes of the incredible sensation, Chris could feel your second climax close; but only this time he would 'punish' you, as he also fantasized about you fucking him yourself, he wanted to see you so overwhelmed jumping on his cock; so he suddenly pulled out of you causing a small mess of your fluids.

“I want you to fuck me babygirl, sit on my cock please” he asked you demanding but soft.

You bit your bottom lip as you watched Chris sit up, you stood up and, quickly Bang found the zipper of your skirt, unzipping it and making it fall gracefully, finally leaving you naked, which made him lick his lips lusting after you; you spread your legs and positioned yourself over his lap, you took his wide hard cock with your left hand to guide it to your entrance as you held onto his shoulder. Chris smiled admiring your flushed cheeks and your face of concentration, until you both gasped once feeling joined; first you slid his glans and then you let yourself fall completely on his cock, squeezing down to your cervix, you were one hundred percent sure that your poor vaginal canal was no match for Chris's cock length, who you looked at and also had a moaning expression on him, you admired again his closeness, every small and almost non-existent pore of his well-kept face and the roughness and manliness of the texture of his neck, you also wished to see him completely naked so you awkwardly played with his tie trying to take it off.

“Do you want to unbutton my shirt, sweetheart?” he said tenderly noticing your actions.

You nodded encouragingly, “Yes, Dr. Bang.”

Chris was turned on by you speaking to him formally, making his cock throb more of which you resented inside and let out a moan. He loosened his tie, tossed it aside and helped you unbutton his shirt faster, exposing his muscular, hard-working body.

“Move for me, ahh, that's right, good girl.”

You began to stir yourself on his cock, moving with it all the way to his testicles sweetly squeezed by your weight, as you held onto his marked pecs and gradually lifted your body to keep a rhythm to the frantic bouncing on his cock. You eagerly and between gasps felt his cock rise and fall up and down the tract inside you, trying to take it all, making you sweat a little from your exertion. Chris squeezed your waist tightly, helping to propel you forward.

“Oh that's it, fuck me, you're doing excellent, good girl, fuck, taking so well my cock” he whimpered as his eyes were fixed on your tits moving and his cock burying into your tight pussy.

His words turned you on more and encouraging you to keep going. Accelerating your squats more and more, causing Chris to widen his eyes in surprise, increasing the intensity of his heartbeat and suffocating his cock more.

“Fu-fuck, I-i'm gonna cum inside of you, I'm gonna fill your pussy like the good girl you are.”

Chris let go himself completely, he had held back his orgasm long enough so followed by shuddering whimpers, he ejaculated inside you, feeling his warm shot of cum; you were so close too, which he could predict so he continued to praise you softly.

“Keep it up, beautiful, cum on my cock, come on, you can do it.”

You buried your nails a little into his chest and cum, spilling your second orgasm down the length of his cock, making both of you a mess, your combined fluids slipping and sliding down his balls and lightly onto his thighs. You both tried to catch your breath. Chris remained holding you tightly around your waist so that you stayed right there and so on top of him, he didn't want to give up the feel of your core in him, he wanted a little of cockwarming in you.

“Wow… that” Chris tried to say, slowly coming back to his senses, realizing he had finally fucked you, reality suddenly hit him, you were still sitting on his cock and over his lap with your cheeks red and your babyhair slightly tousled and glistening in a minimal layer of sweat from your exertion, he let out his typical nervous chuckle, “…that was wonderful. You know… anytime you need help relaxing, we can do it whenever you want. Maybe next time you can do all the noise you want.”

You stared into his eyes perplexed that he had just implied that from now on, you could fuck anytime you wanted.

“But you'll leave tomorrow, right?” he spoke again.

You nodded disappointed, he was right, you had to go back to your hometown tomorrow; you sighed and hugged him gently, leaning your head on his shoulder, tired and breathing in his scent, thinking you didn't want to leave him, your summer would be boring anyway, you needed him, the feeling of his cock inside you, filling you up felt so good, you were going to miss him. You've never had your stress taken away like that before.

----

dividers by chilumitos ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

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blue-ink-pearls · 8 months ago

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So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:

Sklonda literally said it was him

Bobby Dawn has always been a predator

The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.

So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.

Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.

When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!

The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.

The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.

The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.

He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.

Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.

Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.

*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!

**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #sandra lynn faeth #bobby dawn

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violettaskies · 1 year ago

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Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right?

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking.

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register.

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order.

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.”

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone.

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —”

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.”

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly.

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?”

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.”

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel.

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers.

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library.

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head.

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly.

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully.

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man.

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?”

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas.

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed.

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your —

No.

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever.

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle.

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot.

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.”

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.”

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you.

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?”

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words.

What a dream.

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket.

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly.

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.”

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry.

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little.

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice.

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body.

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever.

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least.

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve.

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong.

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs.

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal.

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together.

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant.

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before.

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too.

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process.

You were about to become the death of him tonight.

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him.

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep.

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly.

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily.

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep.

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream.

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.”

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand.

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully.

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together.

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure.

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status.

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it.

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?”

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight.

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions.

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered.

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all.

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment.

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice.

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them.

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth.

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot.

“Y-yes, I would be.”

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.”

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone.

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle.

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.”

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure.

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind.

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts.

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him.

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly.

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him.

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts.

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again.

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down.

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.”

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before.

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted.

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly.

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever.

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours.

“More, please.”

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.”

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea.

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned.

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you.

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong.

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise.

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him.

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter.

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met.

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back.

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again.

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.”

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub.

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod.

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal.

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper.

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder.

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve.

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples.

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good.

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin.

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.”

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms.

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently.

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high.

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down.

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips.

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips,

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses.

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now.

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?”

Fuck.

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly.

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust.

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?”

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least.

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle.

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking.

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased.

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers.

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed.

“Let's use a little, Steve.”

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand.

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.”

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight.

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you.

Just the tip — you said the words before.

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out.

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of.

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in.

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size.

“Feels nice.”

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you.

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved.

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body.

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you.

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you.

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.”

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully.

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely. “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned.

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you.

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies.

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.”

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now.

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days.

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster.

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.”

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes.

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots.

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you.

And he did.

Good god, he did.

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously.

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve.

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you.

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way.

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays.

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you.

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him.

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process.

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again.

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs.

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze.

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips.

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked.

“Another day?”

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin.

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process.

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too.

-:-:-:-:-

5K notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 2 months ago

Note

had a hard day in work so a member will j make u feel good with their mouth and hands mmmm

18+ / mdi

them helping their s/o relax after work

content: smut, established relationship, afab reader, oral (f receiving), mentions of sex, mentions of m receiving oral, etc.

wc: 690

a/n: thank u for requesting<33

masterlist

seungcheol -

you don't even have to ask. he knows the telltale signs of your tiredness and has an entire routine ready for the days when you come home a little extra tired. he'll bathe you, wine and dine you, and end the day with some head for you to fall asleep to.

jeonghan -

even as he attempts to relax you, he'll still tease you. he knows that the buildup will make it all even better, but he also just enjoys getting you to whine at him and pull at his hair with half-hearted demands for more.

joshua -

so cocky and annoying about it lol he'll make you have to beg for it, teasing you until the very last minute before going at you as if you were his last minute. and even then, he'll tease you by slowing down his touches every so often, asking you about your stressful day while between your legs.

jun -

at some point, he's learned to just let you take whatever you want on these extra stressful days. gets you sitting on his face and having your way with him, kind of broken by the way you whine at his nose touching you just right. would need some assistance after the fact to rid himself of his own arousal.

soonyoung -

he's like pavlov's dogs, he's just become conditioned to getting on his knees and ready to spread your legs when you come home in a certain mood. it's like a treat to him, knowing he can have you and that he's also helping you wind down after a stressful day. win win.

wonwoo -

will be between your legs, asking you questions about your day and expecting you to answer as he licks and licks and licks. hums along, keeping up with the conversation despite being otherwise occupied. feels this is the best form of unwinding for you, as it's both mental and physical.

jihoon -

ur tired? he's equally, if not more, exhausted. but it's okay, he can power through his tiredness to take care of the both of you! he'd get a bath ready and innocently help you wash the day away. naturally, he'd eventually grow distracted by the sight of your pretty, wet, nude body and become consumed by you, offering himself up for your pleasure to help you relax further.

seokmin -

it's become kind of a routine thing for him to let you ride his face any time you're stressed. you get to a point where you don't even have to communicate it verbally anymore. you just have to kiss him a certain type of way and he's already ushering you up his body.

mingyu -

this man is a much so he'll use any excuse possible to get his face between your legs for as long as he can. it's therapeutic for him too, so it's kind of self-serving to him in a way. will likely hump the bed until he comes as he eats you out.

minghao -

believes sexual acts to be incredibly therapeutic for couples, so giving you head when you're tired and stressed was probably his idea. didn't even think of it in a horny way but more in a 'i want to take care of you' type of way. happy to relax you and get you to sleep like this.

seungkwan -

he becomes pussydrunk so quickly he literally forgets why he was eating you out in the first place. forgets immediately that he was also tired to begin with, automatically relaxing as he eats you out. perfect bonding activity, he thinks.

vernon -

he'll be a little confused the first few times you ask him for this, but he'll never complain about it!! cannot help getting impossibly hard after he's done, always nudging your cunt with his nose to silently ask if he can fuck you to sleep.

chan -

it's like he's on a competition to impress you every time he's between your legs. he tries to outdo himself every time, sometimes even stressing you out as he eats at you because of how intense he is. needs you to reel him back by controlling his pace every so often.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt reactions #seventeen reactions

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warpedpuppeteer · 7 months ago

Text

It's interesting how Buck's love interests are all written in a way that ends because of the reason they meet/happen in the first place and then of course, we have Eddie.

Abby, who changes Buck's view of a healthy relationship but then turns around and ghosts him, making him wait for months on end and letting him realize she's not coming back on his own.

Ali, who meets Buck during a dangerous situation in his line of work and then leaves him for how dangerous his work is.

Taylor, who lashes out at Buck for using her as a fake date and saying she thought she could trust Buck to be a friend who then ends up using him for her career and chose to put his friends in danger.

Natalia, who's there to help him embrace and deal with his temporary death but it leads to their break up because of the constant talk surrounding death when Buck's not comfortable with it.

We can't confirm for Tommy till it ends but it's important to note how he offers to get Buck into his interests like flying and muay thai yet doesn't show effort with Buck's interests like dressing up according to the bachelor party theme despite Buck being stressed about it. And we also have the fact that the entire reason they got together was due to Buck's jealousy for Eddie which he then claims to be was for Tommy. Makes me think they are either going to end because of differing interests OR because of the jealousy issue popping up again.

Funnily enough, every scene above has an Eddie parallel:

Eddie co-parents with Buck and not only does this not stop after a dangerous event but Eddie also has Buck down as a legal guardian (healthy relationship - Abby).

Eddie is in the same dangerous line of work and they have each other's backs. This happens right off the bat too.(dangerous job - Ali).

The Lawsuit era and The Dispatch era - both where they "betray" each other but manage to work through it (betrayal/lie - Taylor).

Eddie doesn't pressure Buck to talk about his temporary death until Buck's ready and is more focused about him living than in his death (death doula - Natalia).

Eddie who has different interests than Buck (poker, basketball and UFC/MMA) but also manages to show interest and actively takes part in whatever Buck comes up with; he suggests their outfit for the themed party AND ends up staying there for Buck even when others leave (different hobbies & showing interest/taking part - Tommy).

Absolutely fascinating when you start noticing that Buck's relationships keep failing for one reason or another and then we have him and Eddie who face the same sort of situations but they still come out of it stronger together.

It's clear that there's a reason Buck is able to overcome anything when it comes to Eddie (that conversation with Maddie about being there for each other even at their worst 👀) and we've already established that everything Eddie looks for in a partner is already something he has found in Buck. So really, all that's left is for them to realize that hey, the one I'm looking for is right in front of me! 🤷🏽

And yes, it's been said to death (hah) but you don't find it son you make it. And Buck and Eddie have already made it.

#character meta #relationship meta #think whatever you want it's up to you #but narratively tommy is a plot device #there's no if's or but's about it #I'm saying it like it is #the parallels between Buck's LIs and Eddie is insane #i just thought about making one about it since we mostly talk about how Buck fills all the things Eddie needs in a partner #this is my interpretation of how they've basically written themselves into a corner and the only possible way to go forward is with Buddie #doing anything else is a disservice to the characters and narrative so far #as Tim said #it's only natural and this is it #buck and eddie just naturally embody the ideal partner for each other #tim minear if you make me go through another destiel i will actually personally come and eat your kneecaps i can't do it anymore bro #it's literally all there!!#it's a masterpiece #i don't trust you enough but in Oliver ryan and jlh i trust #buddie #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #911 spoilers #I'm too lazy to tag all the characters because they're unimportant #the entire point of the post is Buck's LI vs Eddie anyways #so there

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pucksandpower · 7 months ago

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Achilles Come Down

Charles Leclerc x soft dom!Reader

Summary: sometimes you have to take control to get Charles out of his own head

Warnings: 18+ content

Based on this request with some little hints here and there that the reader is Charles’ race engineer (inspired by him getting a new race engineer all of a sudden in real life)

The garage is eerily quiet as you make your way towards Charles’ driver’s room, the usual buzz of activity muted in the wake of his DNF. His familiar red race suit is marred by streaks of oil and rubber, a physical reminder of the mechanical failure that ended his race prematurely.

Charles stalks ahead of you, his body taut with frustration. You can practically see the negative thoughts racing through his mind, the self-recrimination and second-guessing he’s so prone to despite the circumstances being completely out of his control.

“Charles, wait up,” you call out, struggling to match his clipped pace. He pauses with his hand on the door handle, jaw clenched.

“What is there to say, Y/N? My race is over before it could even properly begin.” The defeat in his voice cuts you deeply.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you insist, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “A rear brake malfunction is out of your hands.”

He shrugs you off, throat bobbing with repressed emotion. “I’m the one behind the wheel. I should have sensed something was wrong, made adjustments ...”

“You can’t control every little thing on that car, no matter how talented you are,” you interrupt firmly. “Sometimes factors outside your control are going to screw things up. Dwelling on it won’t change that.”

Charles lets out a harsh exhale, raking frustrated fingers through his sweat-dampened curls. “Easy for you to say. It’s not your championship hopes slipping away with every botched race.”

You resist the urge to snap back, knowing his irritability stems from disappointment rather than any real malice towards you. Taking a calming breath, you change tacks.

“Okay, let’s go inside and get you out of that suit at least,” you suggest in a gentler tone. “We can debrief the data after you’ve had a chance to reset.”

Charles hesitates, chewing on his full lower lip in an unconscious gesture of indecision. You frame his face with your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“Trust me, baby. Let me take care of you for once.”

The rigidity finally seeps from his stance as he gives a jerky nod of acquiescence. You push open the door and usher him inside, the familiar smells of his favorite Dior cologne and heat-weathered leather enveloping you both.

Once the door clicks shut, blocking out the distractions of the paddock, you move in close to begin unzipping Charles’ kinetic race suit. He stands stiffly as you peel away each layer until he’s stripped down to just his snug fireproof undershirt and shorts.

Running soothing hands over his tense shoulders and neck, you knead at the knots of muscles corded there. A low exhale shudders from Charles’ lips as some of the pent-up stress bleeds out of his frame.

“That’s it, let it all go,” you murmur. “Your only job now is to relax and let me take over for once.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, the barest ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You circle around to face him again, hands roaming over the lean muscles of his chest and abs through the thin fabric. Leaning in, you capture his lips in a deep, probing kiss, slanting your mouth over his again and again until his tension fully dissolves and he melts into your touch.

“Better?” You ask with a quirked brow as you finally pull back, taking in his dazed expression.

“Getting there,” Charles replies, pupils already blown wide with arousal. He surges forward to recapture your lips hungrily.

You allow him to control the heated kiss for a few indulgent moments before taking charge once more, pushing firmly against his chest until the backs of his thighs hit the edge of the sleek, ultra-modern sofa. He flops back with a breathless chuckle as you crawl over him, straddling his waist and rocking your hips against his in a pointed grind.

“Just relax and let me handle this,” you rasp against the hinge of his jaw, relishing the full-body shudder that wracks his frame.

Your hands deftly slip beneath the hem of his undershirt, pushing it up and over his head to expose his toned upper body before latching your lips to the hollow of his throat. Charles tips his head back in blissful surrender as you lavish hot, openmouthed kisses along the thunderous pulse point and down the sculpted grooves of his chest.

His hands struggle to find purchase as your mouth trails lower still, tracing nonsensical patterns through the trial of hair. Every swirl of your tongue is deliberate, thorough, a reminder to him to stay grounded in the present moment, focused solely on the exquisite sensations you’re lavishing upon his body.

You pause with your face hovering inches above the waistband of his shorts, reveling in the pure want burning in Charles’ lust-darkened gaze as he watches you through his veil of tousled chestnut curls. Hooking your fingers into the stretchy material, you ease it down, never breaking that heated eye contact.

Charles is already achingly hard, hips twitching upwards in search of some kind of delicious friction. You blow a teasing stream of air over his length, relishing the way he squirms and lets out a guttural moan. Only then do you take him fully into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the velvety crown before sinking down in one smooth glide.

“F-Fuck ...” Charles’ head thrashes against the armrest as his hands scrabble uselessly at the supple leather, trying and failing to find purchase. You hum in satisfaction around your mouthful, the vibrations jolting through him with dizzying intensity.

Knowing he’s dangerously close already, you ease off with one last lingering lick. Charles whines in protest, hips canting upwards to chase that incredible heat and suction. But rather than continuing with your talented mouth, you throw one lean leg over his body to straddle his hips once more.

Charles swallows hard as you reach behind to unclasp your lacy bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and allowing it to puddle onto the floor. He tracks the motion with rapt attention, fingers twitching with the overwhelming need to touch.

Before he can make a move, you halt him with a stern look and guiding hand wrapped around his wrist. “Nuh-uh, I’m in charge here, remember?”

Charles makes a thin, desperate sound but complies, allowing you to pin both wrists above his head. His chest heaves with each shuddering inhale as he watches you shimmy out of your skin tight jeans with your core hovering just above his straining length.

Then, maintaining that heated eye contact, you sink down unbearably slowly until he’s sheathed fully inside you. Charles’ mouth drops open in a low keen as you begin to move in an unhurried grind, savoring each delicious inch.

“You feel that?” You rasp, leaning down to capture his plush bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re not alone in this, baby. I’ve got you.”

Charles nods frantically, hips jerking upwards in a broken rhythm to chase that incredible friction. You release his wrists in favor of framing his face, anchoring him to this intense connection amid the swirling sensations.

“Don’t think about the race or the championship,” you order in a low murmur. “There’s only you and me, here and now. Got it?”

“Yes ...” Charles moans in affirmation as your pace picks up the tiniest bit, guiding him closer and closer to that blissful edge.

Perspiration sheens over both your bodies, slick skin sliding together in an intoxicating glide. His hands roam hungrily over every inch of you, mapping each sculpted curve and plane like a long-cherished map. You snake one hand between your joined bodies to stroke him in counterpoint to your rolling undulations, determined to shatter him into a million ecstatic pieces.

Charles’ breath grows increasingly ragged, each strangled cry of pleasure driving you higher towards your own shattering peak. “Look at me,” you demand, cupping his stubbled jaw. His glassy emerald eyes lock onto yours obediently. “I’m all that matters right now.”

He shudders beneath you, mouth dropping open in a choked groan as his orgasm slams into him with full force. You bear down harder, chasing your own release to the soundtrack of his gasping whimpers. White-hot pleasure detonates through your nerve endings, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

Collapsing bonelessly atop him, you nuzzle against the slick hollow of his throat, placing a tender kiss over his pulse as you both struggle to catch your breath. Charles’ arms envelop you, his frame still quivering with aftershocks.

“Better?” You murmur against his salted skin, unable to resist a teasing smirk.

A breathless laugh huffs from his lips. “So much better. I ...” He pauses, seeming to search for the right words. “Thank you, mon ange. For not letting me spiral.”

“Always,” you vow simply, tilting your head to capture his lips in a deep, searing kiss. When you finally break apart, his eyes are warm and clear, no longer clouded by that self-destructive darkness.

A tender smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you brush back the damp chestnut curls from his forehead. In this quiet moment, with his body and soul laid bare before you, you know the roles have switched once more. He’s gone from race driver to simply Charles — your Charles — and you’ll protect that brilliant light within him with everything you have.

“We can debrief the data later,” he murmurs, mirroring your earlier words with a contented grin. “For now, I just want to stay right here with you.”

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emo-batboy · 1 year ago

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Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

#cryptid Bruce Wayne #college au #does this count if op is the au #fully nocturnal unhinged madman Bruce but make him like 17 and full of crippling separation anxiety and autism #bruce would rather die than inconvenience a professor but hE KNOWS HIS DINOSAURS #Dino class was my fav one in uni hands down #yes i am insane thank you for asking #originally this was just going to be a normal list but I kept taking from my own experience then said “fuck it I'm the captain now”#one of these was a lie tho...the murder wall was third year :/#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #the batman #battinson needs a hug #dc universe #gotham #autistic bruce wayne

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sanchosgf · 1 year ago

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gentle reminders

in which jude can’t seem to understand the weight his injuries have on his girlfriend

word count: 1.2k!

warnings: none i think! this isn’t proofread and i’m a little rusty so go easy on me please

heat tricked down your spine as you observed jude, his hand clasped in the medics as they moved his shoulder around. you knew he’d still play, they could tell him his arm had fallen off and even then you knew he’d be determined to continue the game.

your heart remained in your throat for the remaining minutes, unable to appreciate your boyfriends game as your whole body shook with nerves anticipating the weight of his injury that he seemingly was unable to grasp.

this wasn’t the first time you were left worried as jude played through an injury, each time ending in an inevitable argument as you pleaded for him to rest and take care of himself, and you were sure this time would be much the same. however thoughts of fighting were lost upon you as you finally spotted jude walking down the tunnel, his eyes lacking their usual post game spark as he pulled you in for a tight hug, his head nestled comfortably in the crook of your neck.

the hug was short lived, as you pulled back swiftly, hands settling on his cheeks as you inspected every inch of him, noticeable worry swirling your eyes.

“i’m okay baby, promise, just a little hit yeah?” jude comforted, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead a gentle reminder of his love for you. his attempt to console you however was futile, shaking your head back and forth as you peered up at him - now standing back at his full height as your fingers slipped from his cheeks.

“but it wasn’t a little hit jude, you shouldn’t of played on it!” you tried to keep your voice down as you admonished him, arms crossed over your chest, his missing warmth and the physical disconnection making your heart twist.

jude sighed, shoulders slumping as he looked at you before swiftly looking around. “let’s not do this here, please.” his eyes bore into yours, pleading almost as his hand rose to stroke your cheek, catching a tear you didn’t even know had slipped from your eye.

hesitantly you nodded, leaning into his hand and kissing it gently as a silent apology, one he swiftly accepted, throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you to the car. no words were shared between the two of you. the silence filled with small glances and shaky breaths, neither of you willing to address the impending argument.

silence followed the two of you into the house, the air tense as you actively held your tongue, wanting nothing more than to get cosy in jude’s arms and forget about the game - jude however had other plans.

“are you going to say what’s on your mind, or continue trying to knock my head off with your mind each time you look at me?” judes voice was heavy, sleep coating ever syllable as he looked at you with hooded eyes.

“it doesn’t really matter if i say what’s on my mind, we know you never listen to me when it comes to your injuries. it’s like teaching a baby to drive jude, can we just go to bed?”

jude’s eyes widened significantly at your sudden admission, all sleep leaving his body as he stared at you, mouth agape. though it wasn’t an unwarranted statement, jude knew he dragged you through hell and back with stress each injury, continuously playing on each injury despite your incessant pleas for him to rest. each time ended much the same - you being right and jude being out longer than necessary.

despite the truth jude scoffed “tell me how you really feel babe” his tone was snarky, sending daggers straight to your heart as you finally looked up at him.

“j you know i didn’t mean it like that, but you also know that each time we end up in this situation i end up being right! i’m sick of watching you exhaust yourself and play on injuries which only leaves you out for longer. i hate seeing you hurt and i hate that you can’t see how much it hurts me. i’m tired of it jude.” your voice wobbled slightly as you spoke, desperate to feel jude’s warmth against you, however all you were met with was his icy glare.

“maybe i should sleep in the guest room tonight, let us both cool off.”

his suggestion saw another bout of tears gather in your lash line, eyes searching his own for any trace of a joke.

“if that’s what you want” you choked out, defeated and too tired to argue further. jude’s facade cracked at your defeated expression, however with a lingering kiss to your forehead he left you for the guest room, leaving you with a cold bed and tear stained cheeks.

neither of you could sleep, and as the clock hit 2 jude finally got up, desperate to make amends with you and let you know how much he truly cared for and loved you, disappointed that he failed to do so earlier.

his cold hands met your cheeks softly, thumbs rubbing comforting circles under your eyes as they opened slowly.

“hi baby…” jude’s gentle whisper cut through the silence of the room, as you sat up slowly pulling jude beside you and placing your head right against his heart. it was shameful how quickly you folded at the smallest of touches, however you’d been craving his touch for hours and close now was not close enough.

jude’s lips pressed small kisses to your forehead, knowing how much you adored the small action, and making a note to shower you in an abundance of forehead kisses the next day. “im so so sorry my love… i hate putting you through this, and i don’t show you enough how grateful i am for all you do for me, especially when im injured. i hate that im the reason for you tears tonight sweetheart.”

your eyes fluttered open at his admissions, head tilting ever so slightly to catch his gaze, moonlight illuminating his features. “it’s okay, i get that it’s hard and you just want to play, but you deserve to rest as well y’know? i just wish you’d give yourself a break”

jude nodded at your words, one of his large hands coming up to cradle your cheek, tilting your face up until his lips hovered over yours. impatient with his slow movements, your hand wove to the back of his neck, pressing his lips onto yours as you relished in the warmth the provided, a gentle caress of his own over yours that sent your heart into overdrive.

the kiss spoke volumes for the two of you, as you both lost yourself in it, basking in the intimate connection after hours without any touch.

jude was the first to pull away, forehead leaning against yours as he looked at you intently.

“i love you, y’know? more than anything.”

his words were solidified as he placed his lips against your forehead once more, not faltering as you spoke the same words back, voice slurred as you felt your body succumbing to sleep.

“can we sleep now? i’m tired and i’ve finally got my favorite body pillow back.”

jude let out a tired laugh at your statement, nodding his head as he guided the two of you to lay down, your head nestled right over his heart and under his chin as his arms wrapped securely around you - your small fight long forgotten. his lips provided a gentle pressure against your forehead, a small reminder that even though you two fought, you truly were his best girl, and he’d do all he could tomorrow to show you just how much he loved you.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurbs #football imagines #football blurbs

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lucysarah-c · 7 months ago

Text

Scratches down his back

Summary: Repeat after me, nothing good happens in the common showers unless it’s Levi sandwiching you with the wet wall. Sadly, this is not the case. So, nothing good will happen. Author's Note: I'm revisiting this piece, my second-ever Levi fanfiction, after Tumblr inexplicably removed it. I've made a few alterations, so if you recall the original, you might notice some differences. I've attempted to recreate it to the best of my memory. Despite initially intending it to be full NSFW, I've reconsidered; it doesn't quite match the tone I'm aiming for. This leans more towards being a Crack fic than an NSFW one. Warning: This story contains suggestive themes but nothing explicit. Word Count: 2.8k

She lotioned up, fingers deftly twisting and knotting the towel around her body to keep it from slipping. Annoying groans echoed in the humid tiled space as she struggled to finish her routine while maintaining modesty and not taking up too much space.

"Holy Sheena," a voice called from her right, making her turn around hastily.

"What?" she responded.

Hange walked closer, seeming less concerned about covering up after coming out of the shower. "Those bruises... tell Shorty he's supposed to fuck you, not try to kill you," they joked.

She sighed intently and found the well-marked fingertips around her hips, washing away marks around her wrists and the obvious hickeys and bite marks on her inner thighs and lower collarbone to conceal them from daily life. Y/N couldn't help but chuckle.

"Forgot I had those," she commented, momentarily happy before furrowing her brow again. "I can't find anything here!"

The former HQ of the scouts lacked a pumping water system, everything (despite her boyfriend's attempts) smelled of mold and humidity. The place was freezing due to the tall ceilings and lack of proper insulation, especially in the middle of the forest where temperatures dropped the lowest. Having to shower there, under shaky candlelight, with buckets of water and a cup to pour it on her body was a nightmare.

"How could you forget?" Hange seemed less stressed about the shower situation, either because they had fewer steps in their routine or because they were less ashamed.

"I got used to it, and I usually don't share bathrooms, so no one can see me naked," she explained, searching among her personal hygiene items for the next step in her routine. "I forgot how impractical communal showers were."

"Ah, yes, because you and your hubby have all the space for yourselves," the brunette joked, making kissing sounds to annoy her further.

"You're just jealous that my love life is very active," she retorted.

"Don't point those fingers at me, save those assumptions for Erwin," Hange teased.

Their banter made her laugh and nod slightly in agreement. "Speaking of which, did he send you here to help with something?"

"Supervise a bit of the situation for him and fill out reports for the MPs and the military board," Y/N explained casually as she started to put on comfy clothes.

"So, basically... a conjugal visit so Levi doesn't get blue balls," They quipped.

Coughing loudly as the foam from the toothpaste made her choke in shock, she spat into the sink before looking up, blushing deeply. "HANGE!"

The squad leader chuckled, unfazed by the outburst. "Your marks tell me I'm right. You arrived last night, and he jumped on you like a beast in heat."

She scoffed, not saying a word as her mouth was still full of toothpaste. Frowning slightly at the squad leader and shooting them an askance look, but Hange didn't seem offended, taking the conversation lightheartedly.

As they finished their dental routines, Y/N was surprised by Hange's efficiency. They clearly had different notions of after-shower routines.

"Don't be so hard on him," Y/N defended her boyfriend tenderly as she rinsed the toothpaste residue. "He's stressed about the whole Titan boy situation. He needed to unwind."

Both walked out of the room lethargically, as if neither had anywhere urgent to be. "That's the excuse Shorty gave you? But if Eren is so meek around Levi..." Hange argued back between chuckles.

The empty corridors of the former HQ made her shiver, quickly losing the warmth of the shower as they strolled. When the name of the new cadet in Levi's squad was dropped, Y/N couldn't help but grimace and bite her bottom lip to hold back a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Hange asked.

"Nothing," she replied.

"Come on, just tell me!"

"Fine..." she relented, "but this stays between us."

"You know I can't promise that," Hange joked, indicating that juicy information wouldn't stay secret for long. "Just spit it out."

"I met Eren earlier today..." she began.

"Yeah, and?" Hange prompted.

Y/N's subtle, almost innocent blush didn't match her sassy chuckles. "He's hella cute."

Hange's loud gasp echoed in the empty hallways, prompting Y/N to hush them intensely. "You're a taken woman, Y/N!" the brunette argued, albeit without seriousness. "And... He's a kid. Have some decency, you creep."

"Hey!" Y/N quickly protested. "I never said I was going to sleep with him or something like that! Can't a girl admit when a boy is cute? I mean, did you see his eyes? He's going to be turning heads around here before you know it."

Hange chuckled, "If he survives..."

"What a depressing thought, Hange, for Sheena's sake," both continued walking. "Mark my words, he's going to be handsome and will have girls swooning over him."

"Including you?" Hange teased.

Y/N shook her head softly, regretting telling the squad leader about it. "I could teach him a thing or two," she joked back, earning a shallow laugh from her companion.

"Don't let Shorty hear you say that," Hange warned.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," she assured.

The heavy stone walls seemed to catch every little molecule of dust between the bricks as she swung the door open to the basement kitchen, probably designed to keep the cold temperature for food storage. Or perhaps it was an old castle, and the staff was secluded to the forgotten and unpleasant part of the architecture. Once inside, Petra and Eren were cutting potatoes while sitting on big, chipped wooden boxes.

"Hey," Y/N greeted, rubbing her arms over her clothes as the humidity and coldness of the place seemed to penetrate every piece of clothing. "The bathroom is free if you want to take a shower."

Y/N chuckled softly at her own words. "Well, 'shower' is a bold word for sitting down and throwing buckets of water on yourself," she clarified, jokingly.

Petra seemed to understand, smiled at Eren, and stood up to clean her hands before leaving. They were taking turns for showers, mostly because the former HQ lacked a water pumping system, so they had to fetch water early in the day. For showers, the water had to be warmed up by the stove and then carried to one of the rooms they had chosen as a bathroom. Neither room was ideal because of the wooden floors, but they made do.

She noticed the big, almost innocent eyes of the cadet looking up at her, both seemingly waiting for the other to make the next move. Eren continued with his task silently until she cleared her throat.

"So... have you taken a shower yet, Eren?"

"No, ma'am," Eren replied stiffly, making her scoff.

"You can call me Y/N," she said, taking a spot next to him on the box. "Here, let me help you, or we'll be having potatoes for dinner the day after tomorrow."

Her hands began to peel the potatoes with expertise. "You're good at this," he commented, looking down at his own pile and noticing a good part of the peel had taken the potato with it.

She chuckled, "Ugh, you know how many potatoes I peeled before I was promoted," she joked. "You're showering after dinner? Make sure to rinse the water out of your hair if you're going straight to bed; you might catch a cold otherwise."

Eren seemed surprised by the comment, or perhaps by the interaction overall. "Yes, ma'am," he replied with less self-assurance. "Captain Levi said the rest should go ahead, and then we'll go... I feel bad that he had to wait to take his turn because of me."

"You're showering with Levi?" she asked, entertained, cutting off a bit of the self-hate speech that the cadet was about to embark on. "You're not planning on stealing my man, are you?"

Oh, how quickly the blood rushed to his cheeks. It was priceless. "N-NO! I-I, no. I'll n-never," the poor boy began to stutter. She playfully patted his back while having a blast.

"Relax, Eren. I'm messing with you," she said between chuckles. "It's just a silly shower, sweetie. Levi goes to bed very late, so showering last doesn't affect him."

"But Oluo said–"

"Ohhh, please," she interrupted him again, rolling her eyes as she returned to her task of peeling potatoes. Momentarily pointing at him with the knife, as if to emphasize her point, she continued, "Do not listen to him. Oluo is like one of those very tiny little dogs. They bark and bark and may even bite more than a regular-sized dog, but they actually hold no power."

It was time for the cadet to have a short chuckle at her comparison. "Mr. Oluo isn't going to like that."

"Well, I'm higher in command than him so."

There was a brief calm silence as both of them continued to prepare dinner. "You're too nice to me, Squad Leader," Eren murmured, slightly ashamed. "The rest of Captain Levi's squad is nice too, but I can feel their fear..."

Y/N couldn't help but find it endearing, the little pout on his face. "Oh sweetie, I'm the one who brings the first paperwork of the day to Erwin, and sometimes I even have to wake him up. There's nothing you could do that could scare me after that," she said while reaching forward to pinch his right cheek while wrinkling her nose. "You're a cutie."

The side smile mixed with a not subtle blush that extended to his ears and the subtle shame in his eyes. Everything in his attitude screamed 'I'm not a girl or a kid, don't call me that.'

But that was exactly what he was in her eyes: a kid.

Clicking his tongue, cursing under his breath, he moved the shaking candle around, trying to find a good lighting spot against the old mirror while passing the razor close to his skin. The flame shook under the little insulation of the old rooms, and the humidity of the showers didn’t help as it rained little drops of condensation too close to it. Unlike Eren, who had finished showering and looked around ashamed, unsure how to even begin to dress up for bed without looking awkward (he could start by not standing still in the middle of the room), Levi seemed rather relaxed. Apparently, his only problem was shaving under that type of light.

The Captain looked over his shoulder, found the cadet looking as if he wished the earth could swallow him. “Come on, brat. We don’t have all night. Get dressed so I can take you to the basement,” Levi spoke up. “Don't be so tense. I cleaned the place myself.”

‘The cleanliness is not my problem,’ Eren thought to himself as he tried to carry on. But keeping the towel around his hips while trying to put clothes on that stuck to his humid body, nothing was going according to plan.

“I bet you shared showers in worse conditions at the training camps,” Levi kept his usual stoic face as he cleaned the residues of shaving cream from his face and carried on unaffected by the situation.

But Eren couldn’t unglue his eyes as soon as he noticed them. Yes, them. The red striking scratches down the back of his superior. Well-marked, five on each side decorating his shoulder blades. Eren swore he was trying not to pay them any mind, trying to remember to breathe or even to stop the saliva as his mouth hung open looking at them.

Levi mentioning the shared showers at the training camps didn't help. Because all he could hear repeating endlessly in his mind were the stupid conversations Reiner and Jean would have about the hypothetical chicks they were planning to lay with. How they throw their heads back as they moan your name. Their nails sinking in your back as you pounded into them.

‘Think of something else, Eren. Think of something else,’

“S-sorry,” he stuttered out a reply as the object he was picking up slipped from his clumsy hands, gathering his superior's attention, who was now staring at him as he kneeled to pick it up with his face as red as a tomato and nervous eyes.

Levi raised a silent eyebrow for a split second before slightly shaking his head, not giving it much thought. ‘Teenagers,’ he thought to himself while sighing.

Eren wished he could stop his own mind because it wasn’t just Reiner’s voice playing in his head but the created mental images of what he thought, in his inexperience, it looked like: his superior—no—his hero, fucking the sweet, caring woman who had just been peeling potatoes with him. Her hands that pinching his cheeks, sinking its nails into his squad leader’s back while moaning his name. Wrinkling his eyes closed, trying to erase the mental images as he could feel the blood pumping. ‘You’re not planning on stealing my man, are you?’ her voice echoing in the walls of his head, pumped lips and sultry eyes as she looked back at him playfully.

‘Think of something else!’

“What could you probably be thinking of?” Levi’s voice echoed as his worst nightmare. Had he said that out loud? This time Levi had turned around to face him, left hand resting on the sink as he had his trousers on but hanging loosely on his hips as he was halfway getting dressed. He didn’t seem friendly, and his dead glance demanded an explanation.

“Ehm- I,” Eren began to stutter, trying to find a logical explanation. His mind was racing miles per hour, how to explain. He was peeling potatoes, she made a joke, now he knows they are dating, Levi had his back scratched by her. She, her nails, her joke, her pretty lips—

“Y-Y/N,”

Ah- He shouldn’t have said that, but it was the first word that came to his mind.

“What?” Levi’s voice seemed to source from hell itself.

Heavy steps again on the floor, as he rushed back to his room. “Oi, where are you going so angry, shorty?” Hange rested against the wood frame while drinking a cup of tea. They had heavy under-eye circles and despite the dose of caffeine from their drinks, they seemed very lethargic.

“Tch, to talk to my girlfriend about not messing around with my subordinates,” Levi had a heavy frown on his face as his hair still leaked little drops of water. “I just had the most uncomfortable conversation with Eren,” Levi said between clenched teeth, barely modulating.

Hange chuckled while raising an eyebrow, blinking a couple of times. “Y/N told you she thinks Eren is a cutie? I’m surprised...”

Levi, who had never stopped facing down the hall to his room, not even when he began his conversation with the other squad leader, slowly turned around to face the brunette as he heard that with a clearly confused face that turned into a frown as the information sank in. “What?” he spat out.

Hange began to chuckle as they feared that they had misunderstood, “Ha ha... didn’t you say you had an uncomfortable conversation about Eren?”

“Clean up your filthy ears or go to sleep already, four eyes,” the captain said calmly before clarifying, “I said a fucking uncomfortable conversation WITH Eren.”

“Now, tell me what the hell you meant by that and make it quick because I already stood in a leaky bathroom for easily half an hour hearing Eren stutter apologize after he said my girlfriend’s name with a fucking hard on.”

Observing out of the window as she admired how calm the deep forest was at the former HQ. It was rather cold, but she had only her nightgown on, a sheer translucent piece of cloth. The door of the room swung open, revealing an extremely angry Levi. He shut his door close and walked up to her.

“What's gotten into you?” She questioned, confused. But before she could even reply, he was grabbing her face, pressing her cheeks together, and slightly raising her face to have it inches away from his.

“You’ve forgotten your manners. I’ve been too soft with you,” Levi groaned, “First of all, you don’t go around playing cheeky with my subordinates.”

She could feel the tug from his grip, pressing her closer as her hands touched his arm. Breathing heavily, humming a moan at his words. “Second, you truly think you could have a brat like him when I can already tell you’re dropping with the idea of me teaching you your place again?”

“Lev-”

“Your next words should be ‘Yes, sir’ if you know what's good for you,” he let go of her face just to slap her ass, “Go to bed and ass up, baby girl.”

She moved excitedly in the direction he indicated but turned around as she bit her bottom lip, watching as he grabbed a belt from his uniform, “and that?” she asked curiously.

“To make sure I’m the only one who leaves marks behind.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out.

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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twisted-king · 8 months ago

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Salve!:D. I'm curious on how the vice-dormleaders would react(hc) if their S/O being like Silver. Not in a literal sense but in a "Always sleepy/sleeps in random places" sense. It would also be pretty funny if their S/O still aces their academics HAHA(￣▽￣)~*

omg!! YES!!!

Vice Dormleaders x Silver-like!Reader

Trey Clover

He's a little worried... Like do you get enough sleep?

Are classes too stressful?

Trey finds it cute if you fall asleep on his shoulder while studying or having afternoon tea. He'd chuckle and give a "Is my shoulder that comfortable?" line as soon as you wake up.

Yes, you've heard it hundreds of times.

Trey kind of insists on studying with you, he (wrongly) thinks you might fall behind due to all the napping you do.

of course these study sessions are comfortable for you so you're usually lulled asleep by his voice

So imagine his suprise when he asks you about your text scores.

He's here, all ready to console you with your favorite tart, arms open to prepare to be a good boyfriend and hug you when youre sad

Only to be met with "Oh the midterm..? I aced it, why?"

HUH???

WHAT???

You share the tart, he laments...

He likes to suprise you with little treats every now and again, he buys special little boxes to put them in all the time too.

one day, he happened upon you sleeping underneath the table in your dorm (he knows where to look at this point).

You woke up with a light weight on your chest, It was a small green box with a letter attached to it:

"A sweet treat after your sweet dreams,

XOXO

- Trey Clover

Jade Leech

"Oh? How interesting..."

Jade is a little weirdo, so I think this unique trait of yours REALLY facinates him!

He kind of develops a sixth sense for your eepiness. Like he'll be in a middle of a shift and just randomly take a break, just to be there for you when you wake up.

Jade BEGS you to try a bunch of (non poisonous) mushrooms to see if they make your drowsiness worse or better

"Would you not consider it at leas.." "No." "please.." "Just once.."

He's really convincing (6'5 and in a suit).

If you fall asleep in the monstro lounge he is NOT stopping Floyd from doodling on your face

He isnt too suprised by your competency with grades, but then again he lives with Floyd, its kind of hard to suprise him.

He still rewards you with a lil kiss on the forehead

Jade LOVES when you fall asleep on him, it lets him know you feel safe around him!! He keeps a pleased smile on his face when youre near him and sleepy in any capacity.

He wants to go on hikes with you SO BADLY.

You agree one day, it kind of ends with you being carried when you eventually fall asleep on a particularly warm rock.

"Whatever will I do with you, Angelfish..."

-Said while lovingly scooping you up

Jamil Viper

Sigh...

How you two got together is a mystery

But he feels a bit calmer with you around.

He's pretty busy with Kalim, so a lot of time spent together is during school, school activities, and while he's cooking.

Jamil gets a little anxious when youre out of sights. like... what if you're sleeping somewhere dangerous, or you suddently decided to persue mountain climbing?

You go to a lot of his basketball practices, he claims he plays a little better when youre around anyway, even if you fall asleep in the middle fo the game

Stops both Ace AND Floyd from doodling on your face during practices.

Now, as for grades. He isnt too worried about you, he's got kalim to deal with an an exam to underperform on.

After midterms, he does ask about how you did (as seems to be customary)

"I did pretty well... got a 98" "You what"-

He's...pleaseantly suprised! one less thing to worry about (despite that not being his responsibility)

Jamil likes cooking spicier and spicier food for you, both to see if you can handle it (he's a little competitive), and to wake ypu up a lil <3

He presses a kiss to your cheek for every "level" you complete

"What do you think, Flower?... ah, you fell asleep"

Rook Hunt

I'm sorry.... he's a little weird about it.

He has a LOT of pictures of you sleeping in odd places

Rook's favorite is his homescreen on his phone, it's you sleeping in an impossibly high tree kind of just.. hanging there. Its in super high quality though.

He likes leaving little notes about how cute you look while sleeping around

its like a little gift for when you wake up!!!

When he isnt watch you sleep he keeps a bottle of water and some fruit snacks to munch on. Sleeping this often must be tiring after all, you need your energy!

You know you can call for him just as easily as Vil can (if not easier... you bagged a SIMP)

So, sometimes you jokingly put a hand to your forehead and Rook comes SPRINTING.

His arms are outstretched ready to catch you into a fall and dip you into a kiss

Sometimes though, it is not a joke, and Rook dutifully scoops you up before you make eye contact with him.

It's Rook, so he kind of knew about your good grades already, but every time you tell him he gives you a little "Magnifique~" and kisses your knuckles.

Your dates are very odd. one week it'll be a romantic picnic he preapred for you, the next you're hunting for Leonas together, and after that? movie night!

"Ah~ how delightful it must be to be graced with your beautiful viasge. How I long to be the lone tree stump that captured your affections so.

-Rook Hunt"

Lilia Vanrouge

Another one of them "ara ara?? how interesting" types

He's a father, whose had practice with Silver

Lilia always encourages you to do your best, he usually knows when to stop pushing you to study or focus by looking into your eyes.

He's huge on affections (touch starved Lilia HC my beloved), so Lilia sometimes conveniently floats on by if you start to get drowsy.

He would rather stroke your hair to sleep over you resting on the uncomfortable wooden desks

Also kind of a weirdo who isnt tooo suprised about your high grades. He kind of assumed you were studying in your free time without him.

However, that does not mean he doesnt want to reward your great scores!! He'll cook for you :)

"I was thinking of making a lovely lasagna, with some cinnamon and jalapeño for color.... oh dear, you seem to have fallen asleep."

"honk shmimimimimim" -you, clearly faking it

He always feigns hurt when you reject his cooking, but he knows of his reputation in the kitchen.

Lilia often takes you to new places, usually museums, but sometimes your dates are in a forest he recently discovered within Diasomnia's grounds. like a goth picnic

He has a photo album of your dates together, although he has a page or two dedicated to his favorite spots you've napped on.

Lils is super accomodating, as long as you dont mind his suprise hugs and some light jumpscaring

"Haha got you, little bat!"

-Lilia, after successfully scaring the HELL out of you

#twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #lilia vanrouge x reader #rook hunt x reader #jamil viper x reader #jade leech x reader #trey clover x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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im-only-here-for-the-fandom · 1 year ago

Text

DPxDC : The Phantom ARG

I have been watching a lot of ARG’s and conspiracy theory on youtube lately and decided to combine the two so here we go.

The ghosts in this au will be like Deadman, you can’t see him unless you have magic, a magic artifact, or highly contaminated by ectoplasm. meaning only danny and his friends Sam and Tucker who were near the portal when it activated can see the ghosts in this au, they are invisible to everyone else in Amity Park.

In the beginning, after his accident Danny believed that he was merely hallucinating the small ghost blobs and ghost animals that initially made it through the portal thinking it was only an after effect from getting an extreme shock, and it isn’t until the first ‘incident’ the mystery meat that attacked the shool cafeteria that he realizes that what he is seeing is real.

So like any self respecting teen he tells his best friends Sam and Tucker. They both reveal that they too have been seeing strange things since the accident although not as clearly as Danny, they could still see them like watching youtube in 240p. They gather after the mystery meat incident, which they have named INCIDENT-1 or IN-1 for short as they later name it, in Danny’s room afterwards to discuss what happened. They find out that other than the three of them no one seemed to see the floating lunch lady or even head her when she talked , they only reacted after the meat started gathering and taking the shape of a monster.

Sam says that they should document what they see and what is happening in amity park and the boys agree with her. Danny become the main cameraman and investigator being the only one strong enough to get close without major injury or harm and also being able to see, hear, and feel the ghosts clearest. Sam is the main documenter and researcher she’s the one that writes down their findings and goes over the videos they have to discover new findings to note down. Tucker is the main hacker and editor he hacker the cameras in the streets and school to get footage and other information that might be needed while also making sure that they can’t be tracked. Despite having their main area of expertise they all pitch in to help each other.

While documenting they start figuring out a few key details about documenting ghosts. 1 being that unless you are using an ecto-camera the less technologically adavanced the devices you use are the better results you get. 2 the stronger the ghost is the more visible they are, the stronger they are the more dangerous they are ( danny in ghost form is by far the most visible on camera, and in real life extremely clear to his friends). and finally 3 as time goes on certain objects/ places around town have started to become strange or gain peculiar features.

Jazz ,still not believing in ghosts because they are not visible ,becomes suspicious of what the Trio are doing, so they lie to her and tell her that they are making a sort of anolog horror based on their town to cope with the stress of the recent events happening.

realizing that ‘hey this actually a really nice way to destress from our problems’ and with that one lie that they told jazz the Trio became fully committed to making a full on ARG , with hidden messages, pictures and code. so with Tucker’s coding and editing skills and knowledge of ciphers and wordplay, Sam’s organizing skills and eye for hints and details, and Danny’s obsession with stars and everything space and his way with emotions, along the very much real ghosts and they were all set to make the best ARG.

They named it THE PHANTOM ARG, finishing up the last details they finally post their first video on youtube titled ‘IN-1 : Mystery Meat’. Later on once they get the hang of it they post about ‘how to deal with the ghosts’ ‘evacuation procedures’ ‘cooking with ectoplasm’ and artwork depicting the ghosts and short presentations explaining their characteristics. They even make a fully functional website thats called ‘welcom to Amity Park’ where there are hidden messages, codes and information.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

In Gotham

Bernard Dowd is watching youtube when a video thumbnail catches his eye, it looks like a strange meat monster, he was intrigued. having nothing better to do, he decides to watch it. he looks at what the chanel is about and is instantly hooked, theory’s are exploding from his mind.

he can’t wait to tell Tim about this he would absolutely love this type of mystery solving.

random ideas for this au

The GIW are a big thing in this au, they can’t take down what the trio are posting because Tucker is a hacking god.

Danny is only called to as phantom when he is a ghost never as a human ( because of this no one knows that danny is a halfa)

the trio could go by code names, polaris(danny),pharaoh(tucker),gaia(sam). or any other name you think is sutable.

all codes, ciphers, and hints are based on either science and technology(tucker), plants and animals(sam), or space and ghosts(danny).

the ghost portal accident and opening is unkown to the public and is only referd to as the Accident and people are never told what this accident is only ‘since the accident’ or ‘after the accident’.

there is an extremely hidden video that requires you to solve an impossible amount of hints and clues, that is of the portal opening. it’s called IN-0:The Accident.

(the video shows two people a man and a woman jack and maddie in hazmat suits standing in front a large metal tunnel, two kids jazz and danny siting in front of them, the scientists plug the machine but it fails, they disappointedly leave,*fast foward*, three kids, the trio are standing in front of the portal, they talk, danny puts on a hazmat and walks into the tunnel, it whirls on, the doors shut, the video glitchs as the sound of the machine starting up get louder, the screen turns black but the sound of danny screaming are loud and clear, the screaming goes on for a few minutes before suddenly cutting off, the screan clears up but its still a bit glitchy, the portal is open swirling green with sam and tucker standing in front of it, danny is nowhere to be seen)

danny may or may not be ghost king

This is my attempt at drawing the LUNCH LADY.

DANGER: ⭐️⭐️

( rating may change)

please add, use, change as much as you like. i’d love to see what you come up with and how this idea could expand.

just make sure to tag me or tag it as The Phantom ARG.

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simplyundeniable98 · 5 months ago

Text

I need you now *Bradley Bradshaw*

Pairing - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!reader

Warnings - angst angst angst, arguing, explicit language, Reader has a hard time expressing her emotions, yearning, smutttttttt, mdni or so help me, makeup sex ofc, breeding kink 😏, Bradley LOVES his wife, lots of petnames, brief mention of pregnancy (rooster is so dad sue me), talk of death, mentions of the uranium mission, this timeline isn’t the most accurate, prob some incorrect navy talk, also bradley’s a captain in this instead of a lieutenant commander because captain just rolls off the tongue a little better yk.

Word Count - 5.2k

-This is LOOSELY based around the song "I need you now" by Lady Antebellum.

First Rooster fic, kinda nervous.

Mornings in the Bradshaw house when he was home were your favorite part of the day. Nothing beat waking up next to Bradley clinging to you like a koala. All six foot and then some clinging to every inch of skin that was left uncovered.

Usually, you were woken up to kisses being pressed to every surface he could reach. Your body was his canvas and he vowed to not let any of it stay untouched. The course hairs of his mustache raking across your soft skin rousing you from your slumber. Sleepy smiles and tender touches shared in the intimate moments of the morning before having to begrudgingly start the days activities.

This morning had been different. Bradley had gotten a call in the early spouts of the morning for an emergency briefing that had him rushing out of bed and onto base with nothing other then a note that read

"Be back later, love you sweetheart"- Roo

The bed was cold. That was the first thing you noticed as you blinked awake. Your human heater was nowhere to be found and tender kisses had yet to be given.

The note on the counter had etched a frown on your face the moment you picked it up. Bradley had gotten back from a three month deployment only four weeks ago and you missed him. God you missed him.

Although he had been home for four weeks your time with him still felt limited. He was so busy now that he had jumped rank and started as an instructor back at Top Gun. The added stress of making sure his pilots were safe in the air as well as himself had taken a toll on your husband.

Bradley loved you. You knew that. The picture of the two of you at your wedding had stayed put in the cockpit of his plane. The now frayed edges of the picture from being stashed in his helmet, clutched in nervous palms, and pinned to the instrument panel of his cockpit were a constant reminder that he had you to come home to.

You were his life. You were his sun. The force of gravity pulling him towards you had never faltered. His love for you ran deep in his bones and had since the first day he saw you.

But he is only human. And as expected, he makes mistakes. He forgets to kiss you before he leaves in a hurry. He forgets to do the sink of dishes that you had asked him to do two days ago. He is passionate and feels so much all at once. His determination and dedication to his career is a quality you love about Bradley. His commitment to the Navy was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place.

"Bradley you just got back, tell me you are joking" You say exasperated as you throw your head back.

Bradley had been ordered an emergency deployment for tomorrow morning. It was non-negotiable. Uncle Sam doesnt like to wait and you knew that. It didnt make things easier of course.

"Im sorry honey. Its an important mission and Warlock doesnt trust anyone else to do it." His voice was quiet yet so loud in the silence of your living room.

You could feel the tears start to burn your eyelids. The deep ache in your chest that always manifested when he had to leave like this. You just got him back.

"I never get to see you anymore Roo. I feel like im living on borrowed time." Your voice was starting to raise an octave. The emotions you were feeling were quickly transpiring into anger despite feeling the exact opposite.

" Im alone!" You threw your hand up in the air " I know its your career and I love you for how passionate you are about your career but this is ridiculous." You were yelling now.

Bradley shook his head and raised his palms to cover his eyes.

"Baby please not tonight." He sounded stressed. This was the last thing he wanted the night before he left. He was set to be gone for 3 weeks.

"Then when Bradley? Because its getting old. Im tired of having to love you from afar." You were crying now. A steady stream of tears now running down your face that set alarms off in Bradleys head. You were crying because of him. His girl.

"Sweetheart its three weeks, its not that big of a deal" He closed in on you grabbing your face between two calloused palms. The rough pads of his thumbs carelessly wiping away calculated tears in their path.

You scoffed and step out of his hold shrugging him off. You ignored the pang in your chest as his face dropped slightly.

"Babe seriously calm down" He was starting to get frustrated now. When he got the news earlier today he had expected the night to go a completely different direction.

He wanted to press you into the sheets and draw out those pretty noises he loves. He wanted to show you how much he loved you. Give you a proper goodbye before he was out on boat in the middle of the pacific.

"Calm down? Dont tell me to calm down Bradley. I cant do this" You were overreacting now. You could feel it. You were in too deep. The worry you felt in your chest had blossomed into something ugly and it was too late to back down now.

"Cant do what? This is ridiculous honey can we please just go to bed." His voice was raised now. The temper the two of you had shared was rearing its ugly head as you teeter on saying things you know you both dont mean.

"I need time Bradley." and that was the truth. You needed time to understand the emotions that were rushing through your body. You had finally got him back. Your Bradley. And now he was being shipped off again except this was another dangerous mission.The close call from the uranium mission had planted something ugly deep inside you. There was a chance you weren’t getting him back this time.Your Bradley. Just the thought had the blood rushing to your skull and your vision going blurry.

He was the love of your life. Losing him was out of the question. You had gotten so lucky when he came back in one piece on that F-14. How could you ever live peacefully knowing that the luck may not find him again?

"Time? You need time? I hate to break it to you but thats all your about to have." Bradley winced as soon as it left his mouth. He didnt mean to sound so mean. He knows exactly whats going on in that pretty little head of yours.

He knows you. His girl. He knows that the anger you’re feeling comes from a place of love and worry for him. Knowing it however doesn't ease the irritation thats starting to pool at the base of his spine.

You let out a sound thats halfway a laugh and halfway a sob as you tread towards your shared bedroom. How did the night end like this? How did you manage to let your emotions take over and ruin the last night you will have together in a month.

Bradley followed behind you as he leaned against the doorframe to watch you slam open his drawers in a haste. You may be mad at him but hes still your husband that you love endlessly, you had always helped him pack and nothing would change tonight.

He would give you your space. If thats what you needed then thats what youll get. If you asked Bradley to jump he would ask how high. Thats just how he was.

The two of you silently worked your way through the bedroom getting together everything he would need in his three weeks away. You were too stubborn to back down and Bradley knew you well enough to know to let you work it out on your own.

You had always been supportive of his career. There was never a moment where you thought that your husband being a naval aviator was anything less then a blessing. You were only human. You have human emotions and worries. It just so happens that you have a hard time regulating those emotions into words. Even though you hadnt comprehended it yet, this argument truly did stem from a place of love.

Bradley was your bestfriend. Being away from him on its own set your heart on fire and the added anxiety of knowing he could be in danger set your emotions into overdrive.

The two of you still had not said a word as you mindlessly got ready for bed and slipped under the covers. He said nothing as he pulled you to his chest and buried his face into your hair.

You said nothing as the tears you had been holding back finally fell as he handled you with so much tenderness. He was always so gentle with you. Even after you blew up on him about something you know he cannot help.

You fell in love with an aviator pilot. Deployments were part of the contract. In the six years that you had been with Bradley he had been deployed seven times. You were by no means a stranger to the game. It just felt different now. He had barely come back last time.

He pressed tender kisses to the top of your hair as you drifted off in his arms. Careful whispers of apologies and praise spoken into the silence of your shared bedroom because he would never understand what it would be like to be in your shoes. It would crush him if he knew you were in danger and away for weeks at a time.

Bradley had given you everything. He had given you every ounce of love he could possibly manage. He had given you every ounce of his attention that wasnt directed towards his career. But more importantly Bradley had given you grace. You were human. And it was times like these that he had learned to love the flaws you carried.

The hurt and fear that transpired into anger tonight was only an indication that you loved him. Your clipped words and hushed tears were only an indication that you worried for him. So yes, he would give you time. He would give you all the time in the world if that what you needed. His girl.

Bradley had slipped out that morning with a kiss on your head goodbye and a whisper of an I love you before he headed to the docks. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to turn around and crawl back into bed and kiss your worries away. His heart was heavy as he stood on the deck watching the boat pull farther away from the dock.

The days without Bradley home seemed to be even harder this go around. Maybe it was the fact that he had little to no service this time or maybe it was the disruption you had caused before you left.

You hadnt been able to call him. There wasnt much service in the middle of the ocean anyways but Bradley had been working almost every second that he was there.

Rooster was worked to the bone. When it wasn’t one thing it was another. Every second he was in the air his mind was on you. Every close call the only thing he saw was your face. Every time his fist slammed down on the red button to his left he heard your sweet voice telling him you loved him. He couldn’t wait until he could hear it again.

The photobook weighed heavy in your hands as you sat down on your bed. This had become routine now. Looking at photos and memories helped ease the ache of him not being home.

You smiled to yourself after turning the first page. It was a picture of you and Bradley not long after you had met. He had just finished his second year at topgun and the two of you were at another aviators new year’s eve party.

The pictured had captured you leaning your head back as Bradley held the shooter of tequila between his teeth to pour into your open mouth. His hand cradled the back of your head supporting you from falling.

You turned the page again and this time the picture was much sweeter. You sat perched on Roosters lap as he sat on the piano bench at the Hard Deck. The veins in his neck were prominent as he sang and your head was tilted back in a laugh.

You sucked in a deep breath closing the book. You turned to look at the clock that resided on Bradleys bedside table. A quarter after one. It was rounding about evening time for Rooster right now as you debated calling him. There was a chance he was too busy to answer. You wanted to hear his voice so bad. You chewed your thumbnail as you stared at the phone laying in front of you.

You huffed and reached for it unable to fight it any longer. You hastily pressed his contact and nervously brought the phone to your ear.

Every ring of the phone felt like a stab in the chest. What if he didnt want to talk to you? What if he finally decided that he had had enough?

"Hey sweetheart" His gravely voice rang through your speaker effectively causing all of your worries to cease.

"Bradley" You gasped in relief. Relief that he was okay. That he wanted to talk to you.

"Baby" He cooed. You could feel the adoration through the phone. You could cry.

"I need you Roo. Im all alone and I need you now" You were crying now. Rushed gasps of breath and choked sobs that you fought to keep down.

"Take a deep breath honey. I know, I know." Bradley fought to keep the hurt from showing through his voice but it was nearly impossible when you sound so desperate for him.

"Im so sorry Bradley. I was so mean. I didnt-" You fought for a breath as you try to calm yourself.

"I didnt mean it. I was just so worried about you and I miss you so much all the time." You cry to him. Hearing his voice opened the floodgates and this next week until he came home couldnt come faster.

"I know baby. Its okay, I know." He cleared his throat pushing back tears that were fighting to surface. "I love you. I love everything that comes with you. Im not mad honey, I miss you" He reassured you. Just like he always did. Your Bradley.

"Tell me about your week honey" He spoke softly. Bradley always had a way of making everything better. All of your worries and doubts simply melted away at the hands of your husband.

The west coast sun had done nothing to ease your nerves as it blared down onto the smooth stretch of concrete that held hundreds of families and spouses eagerly waiting for their loved one to return.

He was coming home today. After three weeks of waiting, today was the day. Realistically you knew that this deployment was one of the easier ones. You and Rooster had been separated for six months at a time, so what’s three weeks?

The pale blue sundress you were wearing (with the knowledge that it was Bradley’s favorite of course) helped to ease the feeling of being suffocated in the California heat. Your insides were practically buzzing. You couldn’t wait to get ahold of him. The past week was spent with limited phone calls and promises whispered into the other end of the phone.

The sound of clapping startled you out of your thoughts as you looked towards the water from inside the car. The carrier was barely in view as it inched toward the dock

At the sight of the carrier, you put Bradley’s bronco in park, locked it up and made your way closer. After all this time, Rooster always knew how to find you through the crowd.

It took awhile to find him in the sea of flight suits and reuniting families but when you did he was unmistakable. His long legs carried him quicker and he reached you in about 4 strides.

Wasting no time you threw yourself at him. His bag dropped to the ground to catch you and he didn’t even budge from the force of your weight. He inhaled a sharp breath now that he finally had you back in his arms.

Bradley had missed you. The argument the two of you left on weighed heavy on his mind. Countless nights spent on his navy issued mattress worried about you. What if you didn’t want to be with him anymore? What if the time away made you realize you deserve more?

You turned your head to press kisses against his warm cheek. Bradley was sunkissed before but after being against the pacific for weeks he was especially tan.

“I missed you so much” and you did. More than he could imagine.

Bradley could barely keep his hands off you as you walked to the bronco. They were everywhere he could reach. You were far from complaining though, you could barely keep your hands from lingering as well.

Rooster pressed a kiss to your lips before opening the passenger door for you before getting into the drivers seat himself.

He hummed and tapped the steering wheel before settling in with his hand on your thigh.

The ten minute drive to yours and Bradleys shared condo had never felt farther as his hand drug up and down your exposed thigh. Your skin felt like it was on fire as you drug your fingertips up and down his forearm that was reached out towards you.

Energy was buzzing through the both of you. Unsaid words and hushed promises were transpiring into so much more. The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Bradley said nothing as he pulled onto the street you lived on. He missed this. His neighbors tire swing hanging from the oak that hes pretty sure has been there since before he was born. Your throughly decorated porch covered in flowers and the porch swing he made you two summer's ago.

"Cmere" He mumbled after the car was in park. In seconds his strong hands were grabbing and pulling you onto his lap. His hands were on you immedietly. Both of them coming to rest on top of your thighs.

You immedietly feel at home on his lap. That peice of you that felt missing had found home when you wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring the two of you impossibly closer.

His lips were on yours in an instant and immediately you felt like you could breathe again. His kiss was gentle and unforgiving all at the same time. It was almost difficult to keep up.

Noticing your reaction he couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss. He always knew exactly how to play his cards. Every spot and trick to make you putty in his hands. He grabbed at your thighs and pulled you towards him.

The rough bulge of his flight suit was rubbing you oh so deliciously and if he wasn’t careful the two of you were going to get a public indecency charge here soon if you didn’t move from the driveway.

Reluctantly, you pulled away. Still cautious of the steering wheel pressing against your spine you climbed off of him. The last thing you needed was to honk the horn and alert the neighbors of yours and Bradley’s less then decent escapades.

Fuck. You missed him.

He pushed you onto the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with that wide grin you love so much plastered to his face.

His lips began trailing down your abdomen sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he reached behind you to untie the bow that sat in the middle of your back, sitting up as he pulled it off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth finally found you. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed out on for the last three and a half weeks.

“God, I missed you so much honey. Fuck”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry left you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your husband’s thick fingers pushed inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay. He cooed at you pressing a kiss to your thigh before returning to the task at hand. The smirk on his face told you that his sympathy was anything but.

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Crying out, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled hard at the brown curls that resided on the top of his head. You were pulling so hard you could have swore it was hurting him. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers. Your ears were ringing and you could feel your heartbeat everywhere.

He kissed the skin of your stomach as he slowly fucked you through your high, breathy praises leaving his lips as he stared up at you. “Good girl,” he murmured, placing an open mouthed kiss to your ribcage before hovering back over you. “So pretty honey”.

You moan against his mouth when he kisses you hard, his mustache pricking the skin above your upper lip in the best way. “Bradley, please,” you beg against his lips. “Please, fuck me. I need it. I miss you.”

The groan he let out shot straight to your core as pulls away to unzip his flight suit. He practically throws it to the floor along with the rest of his clothes before he’s back on top of you pressing in between your spread thighs, his mouth is pressing open mouthed kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders leaving goosebumps in his wake. “I need it, too,” he confessed, settling in between your legs and pushing his tip to slide against your swollen clit. “I need you all the time. Think about you every second i’m gone baby”

Your lips were puffy as his met them in a searing kiss before slipping inside you with a sharp thrust. Moaning against his mouth, you wrap your legs tightly around him digging your heels into the base of his spine and grip either side of his ribcage to pull him impossible closer to you.

He wasn’t in a rush, wasn’t fucking you quick and hard like you usually liked it. He was taking his time,pushing into you with such passion it left you breathless, aching for more but feeling overwhelmed all at the same time. He was loving on you in all the ways he could have been , should have been the last three weeks. Hell, in the last four months. He had taken this for granted.

Your velvety walls noisily suck him in deeper with each deep thrust he gives you, your previous orgasm providing him with all he needed to fuck into you hard and slow. The noises the two of you had come together to make were border lining pornographic.

Bradley’s eyes make their way downwards so he can watch the way your pussy sucked in his cock every time his hips met yours. “Fuck, look at you,” he said, more to himself than to you. “Taking me so well baby, aren’t you?”

“I love you. Fuck Bradley I love you” You finally manage to gasp out. Bradley fucked you good every time but you were damn near speechless as you rocked into you. He wasn’t just fucking you this time. No he was making love to you. He was showing you just how much he loves you with every piston of his hips into yours. Every glide of his cock against your greedy walls was a promise.

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to hold back for him. You knew you were close already. It was dancing around the borders of your perception, melting in your blood, burning in your gut, and you could feel it, had been feeling it.

"God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much." Bradley was babbling now as he pressed his swollen lips to yours.

"Missed you too, Bradley. So much", you moaned against his lips, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, baby, you are", he groaned. "So good for me. Perfect. My girl."

“Bradley god-“ you gasped out. White was starting to flood your vision with each slow drag of his cock against your velvety walls. His cock grazed past that spongy part of you and he knew he found what he was looking for when you gasped and clenched down on him.

“I’m so close don’t stop” You whined high and breathy. There it was. Those pretty noises Bradley loved so much.

“Yeah? Me too baby.” He finished his sentence with another sharp thrust. “Gonna fill you up hmm?”

His pace never faltered “Gonna get you pregnant. Give you a baby to keep you company while i’m away. Is that what you want pretty girl?”

“Yes. God yes.” His words making you tip over the edge. You felt like you were on fire as a breathless pleasepleaseplease tumbled out of your gasping lips.

Bradley’s hips stuttered as you clenched down on him. Your pussy was gripping him like a vice. He was a vision with his head thrown back and mouth hung open in a guttural groan.

“Fuck” He rasped as he painted your insides keeping himself in the deepest part of you.

You winced as he slowly pulled out, not letting any of it go to waste. He was serious about his promise. There was nothing he wanted more than seeing you carry his baby. Bradley pressed chaste kisses along your neck before reaching your lips and pressing one there.

The slow drag of his tongue along yours had you whimpering before he got up to fetch a towel leaving you absolutely spent and tangled in the sheets.

He was gentle as he carefully wiped you down before pressing a kiss to the spot above your pubic bone. He quickly got comfortable and pulled you close tangling your legs together.

“I love you” He hummed into your hair pressing kisses to the top of your head. You smiled and pressed yourself closer to him.

“I love you Bradley” You replied before putting distance between the two of you to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry about the way I acted” You truly were. Your emotions got the best of you and instead of talking about it, you took it out on him. Your Bradley. He was the last person you should worry about not understanding. He always treated you with so much respect. So much tenderness.

“I think I just got overwhelmed. Usually it doesn’t bother me but this time with your deployments so close together and after what had happened to you…I didn’t know how to react” Your voice was quiet as you finally let him in. It’s what you should have done a long time ago.

“Honey, why didn’t you tell me?” Bradley questioned. You were his girl. You were supposed to be able to tell him anything.

“I didn’t want you to be worried.” You glanced up at him shyly with a small smile on your face. “You’ve just got so much going on at work and the last thing I want is for you to think I don’t support you. Because I do. I really do” You place a kiss to his lips.

“I love that you are so passionate about your job and i trust your abilities as a pilot to come home to me. It’s just that sometimes I get worried you won’t come home from something that you can’t control.” There were tears streaming down your face now that Bradley was steadily wiping away.

“After that uranium mission, it’s just been different ya know?” You sniffled as Bradley nodded along.

“It made it so much more real. The thought of you not coming home…” You paused squeezing your eyes shut and inhaling sharply.

“Baby…” Bradley cooed. He propped himself up on his elbow to look down at you and brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

“I can’t promise you I’m gonna come home every time” He wiped away the tears that fell at his words.

“But I can promise you I’m gonna fight like hell to come back to you every time.” He pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I can promise you that every time i’m in the air, I’m thinking of you.” You let out another choked sob at his confession and he silenced you with another kiss.

“I need you to tell me when you feel like this baby. So i can be there for you. I don’t know what it’s like to be you honey but I can sure as hell do my best to make it better.” God he was perfect. You truly believed Bradley Bradshaw was sent down from the angels himself. You silently thanked Carol in Heaven for her god sent parenting.

“I love you.” You finally spoke after some time. You pressed a kiss to the scar on his shoulder, and another one to the scar that went across his neck, making your way up to the one that adorned his cheek, and finally one to his kiss swollen lips.

“So you’re tryna knock me up huh?” You questioned with a laugh lightening the mood. You felt Bradley twitch against your thigh as he groaned and pressed his face in your neck.

“Yeah but i’m not sure this one stuck, I think I need to try again.” You giggled as he rolled on top of you making it hard to breathe as you support his weight.

“I think you’re right Captain, let’s try again for good measures”

#bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #topgun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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ihavemanyhusbands · 7 months ago

Text

High Risk

PART ONE: STAR PATIENT

Mini-series masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Nurse!Fem!Reader

WC: 3.5k words

Series Summary: You, a nurse at Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, are assigned to the newest inmate -- none other than the Chesapeake Ripper, otherwise known as Hannibal Lecter. He is nothing short of charming, but the dangerous mysteries that lurk beneath are equally alluring. So much so that you can barely resist the urge to uncover them all.

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence (mentions and some descriptions), slight canon divergence (here frederick is still director of the hospital), corruption, manipulation all around, eventual smut, secret affair(ish?), sort of power imbalance, ongoing murder investigation (the red dragon), cursing, not-so-slow burn, hannibal being hannibal pretty much, aaand that’s all I can think of but lmk if something should be added!

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“A woman being never at a loss…. The devil always sticks by them.” — Lord Byron

———-

Much like the Minotaur’s labyrinth, Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane was designed never to let one escape. At least, that’s how you viewed it, even if you were a worker and not a prisoner there.

Still, you weren’t sure that was any better.

The place’s immaculate cleanliness was almost unnerving, but it was fitting. The walls were a glaring white, and the floors were always polished until they shone. The hallways were meant to confuse those who hadn’t actively tried to memorize them, every corner seeming the same.

Your uniform had to be impeccable too, lest you made the place look bad. It was absurd how much laundry you had to do, and how much time you had to spend on your appearance. All for it to go to waste whenever things got messy with rowdier inmates.

But despite it all, there was a certain allure to the place that made you want to return each day. Something morbid, almost sinister, like a secret waiting to be uncovered. It was irresistible, and it would be until you found it out.

Doctor Chilton had just given you the rundown about the new inmate, stressing the importance of following protocol when dealing with him. He’d handed you his file to look over and on the very first page, there was a picture of the man they called the Chesapeake Ripper — Hannibal Lecter.

You were taken aback for a moment, not expecting him to look like that. Luckily, the Doctor did not seem to notice your reaction, and you quickly made sure your expression was neutral once more.

Despite having worked there for a few years, witnessing all sorts of things, you were a little rattled by the way he spoke about him. Especially after mentioning he didn’t want to lose any more nurses, alluding to the incident with a former inmate, Doctor Gideon.

As it turned out, Hannibal was also a doctor, and you couldn’t help but shudder at the prospect of some macabre pattern forming.

Of course, none of the other nurses wanted to be assigned to him, but Doctor Chilton trusted you to handle things well. You did what was asked of you and never caused any trouble. Truthfully, it wasn’t because you were particularly driven, but you wanted to fly under the radar and take it day by day.

And yet, it had still led you there, despite your efforts.

You took the elevator down from the top floor, reading the file as you went. It was noted that the risk of him being violent was quite high, but he had thus far been cooperative with the staff. In fact, he had even turned himself in to the police, which was a detail that stood out to you.

Considering his numerous horrific crimes, along with Doctor Chilton’s psychological assessment of him, he did not seem like a man who would let himself be apprehended so easily. It would gnaw at you, but you weren’t sure if you’d get the answers you suddenly seeked.

You left the file at your station to finish reading later, trying your best to ignore the looks of fear and pity some of the other nurses shot your way. Hopefully none of them would try to give you shallow words of affirmation, knowing you’d be the subject of gossip for the next week or so.

The maximum security cells were on the basement floor, but you stopped by the kitchen first to get his meal tray. You steeled your nerves as you passed through the extensive clearance, continuing down the hallway until you reached the very last cell, which was behind a set of double doors.

Was the light dimmer there, or were you imagining things? You could see shadows lurking in the corners of the room, an ominous feeling curling in your stomach. A cool gust from one of the AC vents made you shiver, but otherwise, you willed yourself to stay composed.

Finally, you dared to look into the actual cell. It was much nicer than most of the other cells, equipped with two bookshelves, a large mahogany desk, and some elaborate sketches that were taped on the walls. Perhaps part of a bargain struck with Doctor Chilton based on his cooperation with the authorities.

Then again, he was the new star patient, so that probably earned him a few more privileges. Despite those small luxuries though, you knew it’d be hard for him to forget that he was incarcerated.

Hannibal himself was lying down on his cot, reading, but he sat up as soon as you entered. He was even more handsome in person, almost rakish, and you allowed yourself the smallest pause to continue looking at him.

He had a fine nose, dark eyes, and an aristocratic air to him. Not to mention, a full, obscene mouth that was surely meant to cast impure thoughts.

Somehow, you had to admit that even his slate gray jumpsuit fit him quite well. If he truly was the Devil, then word of his burning, unholy beauty was not a lie.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted with a smile that you were sure had charmed many in the past.

“Good afternoon. Stay where you are, please,” you said firmly but politely, returning the smile just slightly. “I’ve brought lunch.”

He obeyed, hands resting on his knees. Slowly, tentatively, you made your way to the slot in the glass where you could deposit the tray.

“Please don’t retrieve it until I’m gone, and let a guard know when you’re done so they can collect it.”

He nodded, smile still in place. “Thank you.”

You began to retreat, feeling his gaze fixed on your back. It wasn’t until your hand was on the door knob that you realized your heart was racing. Adrenaline was dancing beneath your skin like little bolts of electricity, but at least your breathing was even.

What was it that had affected you so deeply? Was it the thrill of looking into the eyes of pure evil?

No, that was far too simple, and therefore what you had expected… but that wasn’t all you’d been able to see. It was hard to decipher just at first glance, but you hadn’t been brave enough to hold eye contact for long. And you certainly weren’t any braver when you returned to deliver his supper later that evening.

He was still all smiles and charming obedience, but you noticed his eyes wandered a lot more. It might have been a little amusing, if you weren’t so nervous. If anything, to have his attention was both intimidating and bewitching.

It made you want to say something more, but you weren’t sure what. Still, you knew better than to engage too much outside of protocol.

Or at least you thought you did.

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

Moonlight slipping through the foliage, anointing the darkened world in silver. A deer silently drank from a stream, unaware the hunter had spotted it. Head bent, throat long. It would be an easy shot, arrow cleanly piercing the jugular.

It ran, but it did not get very far. Its wide, ink-black eyes were looking up at the beautiful face of the moon, silhouetting the hunter. Its weakening heart leapt at the sight.

The last thing it saw was his knife.

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

You woke up with a start, panting and confused. Sleep slid off you slowly, like a veil uncovering your eyes. Your hand unconsciously went to your throat, but unsurprisingly, you found no arrow’s fletching.

Two weeks had passed with nothing especially of note. You had read the entirety of Hannibal’s file, the details of his brutality leaking out into your life beyond Baltimore State Hospital.

It was hard to peel off all the misery embedded in its walls, especially being exposed to it daily. It was easier to compartmentalize instead, letting your mind go blank at the end of the day. But the dreams were an inevitable torment, nonsensical and intensely vivid.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes and sighing into the silence of your small bedroom. You stared into the middle distance for a few minutes, mentally preparing to start your day.

In the time that had passed, you had exchanged a few more words with Hannibal that were not part of protocol. He had asked your name, his tone kept carefully casual, and you thought it only fair to tell him.

After that, he had ventured to ask more innocuous questions about yourself, perhaps trying to test the limits of your interactions. You had answered most of them truthfully but vaguely, worried about him psychoanalyzing you.

Something told you he'd also know if you were lying, so you figured it’d be mostly useless to try. But you were entitled to your secrets, too, and you preferred keeping your cards close to your chest.

Yet you were also aware that it would not deter him, but unbeknownst to him, you were just as headstrong.

Later, after having slipped on your mask of cool indifference and clocking into work, you brought down his breakfast. You found him at his desk, sketching. He glanced up without moving his head, pencil still moving.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “Is it nice out today?”

“Depends on what you consider ‘nice’,” you said mildly, making slow work of depositing his meal tray. “It’s been intermittently raining since last night, and I don’t think it will stop any time soon.”

“Not bad at all,” he said, his tone ever so slightly wistful. “I do quite enjoy rain. I hope you didn’t forget your umbrella.”

Strangely, you couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for him. The sudden loss of freedom was an unbearable thought to you, and you didn’t really wish it on anyone. But that wasn’t to say he didn’t deserve to be in the position he was in.

He noticed you hovering but not saying anything. Finally, his pencil halted and he looked up at you, leaning forward slightly. His assessing gaze pinned you in place, but your body was tense and ready to flee.

“You sound tired. Did you sleep poorly?” He asked.

You blinked in surprise, the question snapping you back to the present. Lowering your gaze, you inclined your head.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” you said politely. “I should get going, I’ll be back in an hour.”

He pursed his lips in what seemed like irritation, but he didn’t press you. Instead, he stopped you once more by changing the subject.

“Before I try to talk to Frederick about it, there’s something I’d like to ask you,” Hannibal said.

You looked at him with apprehensive curiosity. “I cannot promise you anything, but you may ask me.”

“I would like to draw you, if you’d model for me,” he said. “Simple stuff, all of it appropriate. I promise. I’m just in dire need of a muse.”

“What makes you think he will say yes to such a request?” You asked, not yet processing everything in your state of shock.

He smirked. “He needs my help with certain things, so it’s only fair I get something in return.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And… Why the interest in me, specifically?”

“It would be a sin not to immortalize features like yours.”

Heat crawled up to your face and your arms tightened against your torso, but you kept a mostly neutral expression on your face. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or just toying with you to unnerve you, but you had a feeling it was a mixture of both.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of a bigger reaction, but it was likely he could still tell he’d rattled you. The worst part was that deep inside, you also took his interest as a compliment, but there was no way you would let that show.

“I’ll give it some thought,” you said slowly, unsure why you were even considering it. “Pending Doctor Chilton’s approval, of course.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

With that, you left, floating down the corridor as if detached from your body. The whole situation had a feeling of unreality to it, and you kept expecting to wake up once again.

As you got to the nurse’s station, another nurse told you that Doctor Chilton had summoned you to his office. You blinked at her in surprise. Impossible… Had Hannibal really been so fast?

Next thing you knew, you were knocking on the door to his office, turning the knob when you heard him grant you access.

“There you are,” Doctor Chilton said, one hand resting on his cane. “Close the door behind you and take a seat, will you?”

You dipped your chin in compliance and mechanically followed instructions. For what seemed like an eternity, he said nothing, studying you instead. You shifted slightly in your seat, instinctively returning the favor if only because you didn’t want to be the one to look away.

He himself had been a victim of Hannibal’s more than once, and his body bore all of the evidence. Still, the Doctor had an undeniable obsession, using any and every opportunity to brag about Hannibal’s capture.

Clearly, the impact had been more than skin deep. No one ever dared to outwardly gossip about it, but it was well-known regardless.

It wasn’t often that you dealt with him directly, and you were being painfully reminded of why you preferred it that way.

“Did…” you began, but he interrupted.

“I watched it all through the cameras. He knew I would be when he asked you that.” He leaned forward on the desk, hands clasped. “Wise choice not to give in just yet.”

You couldn’t help but balk at this. “I beg your pardon?”

He raised an eyebrow. “It must have been a tempting offer, to be the Devil’s muse. I would not blame you if you were at least a little flattered.”

Your eyes, just like your resolve, were like steel. “Why have you called me here, if I may ask?”

His smug, easy grin faded as he let out a long sigh, his patience wavering for a moment.

“Hannibal is right about my needing him, though I am not the only one who does. The reason why is classified, as you can imagine, so I cannot tell you much,” he said, keeping his tone bored as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain it to you. “What I’m trying to understand now is why he wants you in return.”

“I’m just as confused, trust me.”

“From what I have observed, you don’t speak much, even if he has tried. I wonder if the challenge interests him…” he drifted off thoughtfully for a moment. “Though I suppose he’s always liked to surround himself with pretty things, too.”

You stiffened, taken aback by the strange compliment. “And so you are expecting me to say yes?”

“I’m not expecting, no, but I’m sure you’ve gathered that this goes beyond Baltimore State. Of course, should you choose to assist us, you would not only be generously compensated, but I would be immensely grateful, as well.”

You thought about it for a moment. The additional income would definitely be helpful, but you had to admit you were also growing more and more curious about the whole thing. What else did you have going on, otherwise?

Still, you had to try and cover all your bases first. You couldn’t make it too easy for him, after all.

You slightly tilted your head to the side.“Grateful… so you could call it a favor, then?”

He raised both eyebrows. “A favor?”

“Yes, Doctor. He’s a highly dangerous patient and you are asking me to spend longer periods of time – I’m presuming alone – with him. The safety of all staff should be your top priority, right?” you said pointedly, crossing your arms over your chest. “What use is money if no one’s alive to collect it?”

His green eyes narrowed as he seemed to weigh his options. Your face remained implacable, though there was also a challenging shade in your features that he did not miss. Otherwise, he could not get a very good read on you, and that suddenly intrigued him. Perhaps you’d be more useful than he’d originally thought.

“Right… You make a good point,” he finally conceded. “Well, I am a man of honor, after all. Anything you might need, you can always ask.”

You smiled as genially as you could. “How gracious of you, Doctor Chilton. Thank you.”

His false smile was more like a sneer. “Of course. You don’t have to give your final answer now, but…”

“I accept,” you said, cutting him off. “I am honored by the opportunity.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

“How close are you able to get to the glass?”

“Up to ten paces away,” you said, taking your cardigan off and draping it over the back of the chair you’d brought. “Should be close enough, no?”

“Not nearly,” Hannibal said with a small, flirtatious smile that you did not return.

Still, he could see a flicker of amusement cross your face, softening you infinitesimally. It only made him ache all the more to see you up close. He felt a sudden thrill that warmed his extremities — a feeling he recognized but had not felt for some time.

“Doctor Chilton has given us two hours, so I’d advise you to use the time wisely,” you said, slightly lifting an eyebrow and setting your hands on your hips. “How would you like to start?”

“Just as you are, at your most natural,” he said, picking up his pencil. “Let’s see…”

It was strange at first, to have him stare so intently at you. You, who were seldom cowed by anything, could still barely keep eye contact with him. As an excuse, you offered your profile, turning your body to face the wall.

He complimented the elegant swoop of your neck and you rewarded him with a demure glance and soft words of gratitude. His grip on the pencil tightened, his heartbeat spiking. You caught the way he shifted slightly in his chair, swallowing hard.

Despite your icy exterior, you felt a thrill at the effect you seemed to have on him.

You hadn’t been instructed to do anything but show up, but you knew instinctively that it would take more than that to keep Doctor Chilton’s favor… and Hannibal’s interest. Luckily, you were well versed in the art of slow seduction – giving just enough, but then withdrawing in equal measure.

Not to mention, it felt safer to do so on the other side of the glass.

Once or twice, he gave you brief instructions on how to pose your arms or which way to angle your head. You fell into a sort of meditative state, the reality of the whole situation slipping away from you, as well as the passage of time.

When your watch’s timer went off, he seemed to snap back into focus at the same time as you. You looked up, startled at the sight of all the sheets of paper strewn about the desk. You noticed his hands were stained with graphite as he set his pencil down.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you took a step closer if only to try to get a glimpse. There was an almost frantic quality to the sketches, as if he was worried he might not be able to trace all the lines he wanted to in time. You weren’t able to gather many details from that angle, but you did not doubt his talent. Something about those hands…

“Productive first day,” you said, lightly teasing him to distract yourself from other thoughts passing through your mind.

A smile and the faintest dip of his chin. “I have not been so inspired in a while.”

“You flatter me too much. I’m sure it wasn’t just due to me,” you said, looking behind him at his bookshelf. “What are you currently reading?”

He seemed momentarily surprised at your interest, glancing over his shoulder and slightly raising his eyebrows.

“Byron, actually.” He chuckled as he saw your reaction to the poet’s name. “The irony of it is not lost on me, trust me.”

You looked away. “You’re finding beauty where you can. I understand.”

“I always have, in my own way,” he said. “I have a feeling you might relate.”

“In places like this, there is no other choice,” you said, noncommittal. “Not if you want to survive it.”

“The great object of life is sensation,” he quoted. “To feel that we exist, even though in pain.”

You let out a short exhale as you slipped your cardigan back on. How curious that he would be a romantic, but you supposed, in a way, it made sense.

Free of being a so called muse for the day, you withdrew back into yourself. He’d gotten the barest glimpse of another side of you — softer, more open — and that had to be enough for the time being.

Had to leave him wanting more, after all.

“I will see you bright and early tomorrow, Hannibal. Get some rest.”

------

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x nurse!reader #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter fanfiction #minors dni

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moonlinos · 11 months ago

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Invisible string (pt. I)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader / Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: With your terrible history of boyfriends during high school, you swore off love and vowed to get through university without a relationship. Things are great: you’re in your junior year, in an uncomplicated arrangement with a friend with benefits, and living in a nice sharehouse with two amazing roommates. But things begin to change once you meet Lee Minho, a student in your new class who vows to change your perspective on love.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, eventual smut, light angst, pining, jealousy, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits

♡ CW: Swearing, sexual themes and discussions, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

♡ Word count: 16.4k

♡ A/N: This is a three-part story because I can’t shut up. The second part will be posted sometime next week, and I’ll link it here. I’ve been writing all my life and have written for maaaany fandoms, but being on Tumblr as an active reader of SKZ fics made me want to write for them. So, yeah, guess this is what I’m doing now.

part II →

You are woken up by Hyunjin shifting beside you on the bed. He groans, arm reaching to mess with your already closed curtains. You chuckle.

“You know, the curtains won’t close any more than that.”

“I keep telling you your bed is in a terrible position,” He grumbles as you turn to face him with a smile. “Who thought placing a bed right under a window would be a good idea? Mornings are fucking hell here.”

You shrug. “Well, it’s not my house so I didn’t exactly have a say in that matter.”

“I told you a million times I could help you move it.”

“And I told you a million times Mrs. Choi doesn’t like for us to mess with her furniture,” You explain, turning under the sheets so you could face him before bringing your fingers up to pinch his cheek. Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “Speaking of which, you need to leave. You know her rule: no—”

“No boyfriends spending more than two days at the house,” He interrupted you with an eye roll. “I’m not your boyfriend, though, so that rule shouldn’t apply.” He shrugs.

Hyunjin has been one of your best friends since you first met over two years ago. It was Hyunjin’s first college party and one of the many times your housemates had dragged you along on a night out. His friends had dared him to try and chat you up, arguing it would be hilarious to see him get turned down by an older girl. What they hadn’t expected, however, was for Hyunjin’s clumsy attempt at flirting to be so endearing to you; his pink cheeks and bowl-cut hair made him look like a helpless kid despite his height towering over you. Before you knew it, you had spent the entirety of the party talking to him about everything and anything, only stopping once your housemate Eunha emerged from inside the house to drag you home with her as she desperately tried to dodge a rather insistent guy’s advances. After that day, you and Hyunjin became almost inseparable.

You can’t quite pinpoint when you began hooking up. It was meaningless in the best sense of the word. It was simply something that had happened. All you can remember is that Jisung had recently bleached Hyunjin’s hair after yet another dare from his friend. It had started with cuddles, which turned to kisses, which turned to touches, until you eventually slept together for the first time sometime last year after an excruciatingly stressful exam period. It had never once gotten weird between the two of you; the line was always clear: you were just friends who hooked up due to convenience. Everybody had needs and stress and shit complicating their lives, and fucking your best friend was far more practical and safe than going out to look for a random hook-up whenever you needed it.

You find yourself smiling at Hyunjin once again. His now long black hair fell in his eyes as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Yes, you’re not my boyfriend, but how am I supposed to explain what we are to a little old lady?”

“Doesn’t she always say she’s super modern?” Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you with a chuckle. “Maybe she’d like a situationship of her own and you’re depriving her of that by keeping this knowledge to yourself.”

You roll your eyes at his words, attempting to push him off your bed. “Why did you sleep here, anyway?”

Hyunjin sits up on the bed, a pout on his full lips. “I had a shitty date. I was sad and lonely. Glad to know you were paying attention to my story.”

“Hyune,” You sigh, ‘When you tell me said story while fucking me, can I really be blamed for not remembering anything?”

Hyunjin flicks your forehead lightly. “Yes, you can. At this point, it’s like our thing to vent about bad dates during sex,” He argues before getting up from your bed, finding his shirt, which had somehow been thrown over your study desk.

“You mean it’s your thing,” Correcting him, you get up as well, turning to fix up your sheets. “I don’t even go on dates and you know that. The only thing I vent to you about is how awful academic life is.”

Once you turned to face him again, Hyunjin was busy messily tying his hair. His brows promptly furrowed as he took in your words. “Remind me why you literally never leave the house again?”

“Just don’t want to get distracted. Getting my degree is more important than getting a boyfriend.” You lie with a shrug.

Your history with relationships was something you kept secret from everyone you met after high school. You feel embarrassed, as if it was all somehow your fault. After five failed relationships where you had been the one to be broken up with or cheated on, you began to accept that maybe the problem really was you. Maybe something about you makes men want to yell at and cheat on you. Perhaps you are just bound to be a distraction until they find someone better.

Which is why you don’t date.

Would anyone go through the hassle of reading a long, tedious book if they already knew about the bad ending?

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your answer, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your degree isn’t going to keep you company when you’re eighty and alone.”

“Well, my degree isn’t going to wake up one day and suddenly decide to leave me either,” you refute, earning an annoyed groan from your friend as you walk past him to leave your room.

“You literally never have fun, though. All you do is go to class, work, and study. You should at least pick up a new hobby,” Hyunjin insists as he follows you, walking into the kitchen-living room area. “Go out more, stop avoiding college parties like the plague before it’s too late to experience the joys of watching your friend throw up on some random person’s couch.”

You make a face at the offers, grabbing your mug from the cupboard. “Why would I want to see that? Besides, I have hobbies.”

“I meant a social hobby. Sitting in your room watching fucking iceberg videos isn’t sociable,” He explains, and you let out an aggrieved gasp. Your iceberg videos were educational and entertaining, thank you very much. Behind you, your housemate’s bedroom door opens, and you turn to watch as she stumbles out of her room, looking half-awake. “Soojung, don’t you think she should get a new hobby?” Hyunjin addresses the blonde girl, who stares daggers at him.

“If I say yes, will you two stop speaking so loud?”

Hyunjin slams one hand on the kitchen counter, his other pointing a finger at you. “See, she said yes. You’re outnumbered, now you have to stop spending all your free time holed up inside your room.”

Soojung groans, stepping into the kitchen and shoving Hyunjin to the side. “He’s annoying, but he is kind of right,” she mumbles.

Truthfully, you did feel bad about having essentially wasted three years at university by actively avoiding parties and invitations any chance you got. The only parties you did attend, however, only served as an irritating reminder as to why you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations. Parties and bars only meant desperate college boys. Desperate for sex, for attention, for a potential relationship. For someone’s heart to break. You had met Hyunjin at a party, for fuck’s sake. Who knows just how south things between you two could’ve gone if he had become interested in you romantically?

But, as much as you hate to admit it, Hyunjin is right. Your life is essentially an endless loop of studying and working. You only socialize when your roommates are home, when your few friends come over, and when you and Hyunjin hook up. But you aren’t ready to step out of your comfortable bubble of avoidance, so you settle for the best thing you can think of.

As Hyunjin rummages through your fridge like he lived there and Soojung stirs her coffee blankly, you loudly set your mug down on the counter. “An elective course,” you announce.

The both of them turn to face you with the same puzzled expression.

“The fuck?” Hyunjin questions, and you roll your eyes.

“I’ll take an elective,” you explain matter-of-factly, “The university offers a lot of great courses in things I’m actually interested in. It’ll be a way for me to get out of the house without having to watch a friend of mine puke on a couch or whatever atrocity it is that you said.”

Hyunjin slams the fridge door closed, earning a scolding scream from Soojung, and walks over to where you’re standing. He pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “You’re such a fucking nerd, what the fuck, but I’m so glad your hermit life is coming to an end.”

The elective course you choose is Japanese. It’s a language you’ve always been interested in learning, and while you know the class is merely introductory, you figure it will be fun to learn some phrases and expressions. You might even find yourself wanting to learn more in the future, and you’ll undoubtedly be glad you took this class during university.

Even if that means having to endure Hyunjin calling you a weeb.

You are able to begin attending classes a week after signing up; the lessons lining up with your work schedule to a T. The professor explained that, since you had joined the course late, you would likely need some guidance with phrases and words the class had already been taught. You didn’t mind, actually feeling excited in the morning despite your boring routine classes since you knew you would be doing something new you enjoyed in the afternoon instead of simply killing time around your house until it was time for you to work.

You walk into your first class ten minutes late, mentally cursing Eunha for being so good at telling stories about her weirdly entertaining life that it made it physically difficult for you to drag yourself away from her. You mouth a brief apology to your professor before scanning the room and scurrying over to the only available seat.

You sit down in haste so as to not disrupt the class any further, swinging your bag over your chair and accidentally knocking over your seatmate’s water bottle all over his side of the desk. Luckily, the bottle lands on the soft surface of his notebook, barely making any noise. Unluckily, said bottle had been filled with coffee, staining his notes a faded brown color. You silently gasp, instinctively reaching out your hands to fruitlessly try and dry the pages that are now sticking to each other.

“I am so sorry, what the fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you continue to inspect his notebook frantically. “I’ll buy you a new notebook and another cup of coffee as soon as class ends, I promise,” You whisper to him, your eyes boring holes into the stained pages as you watch the bitter liquid slowly dissolve some of the black ink. At this point, you’re rambling out of nervousness, but you can’t seem to stop, adding, “Hell, I’m so angry at myself for what I did I’d bind you a new notebook and brew you some fresh coffee myself.”

You mentally berate yourself for your word vomit. It was just your luck that you would make someone hate your guts on the first day you attended a class.

After what feels like minutes of silence from him, you are prepared for the imminent burst of rage bound to come your way, the guy’s wrath more than likely stirring inside him as he sits beside you and watches as you foolishly shake the piece of paper, hoping it will miraculously return to its untainted state.

However, what you aren’t prepared for is the small burst of laughter that leaves your seatmate’s lips; it’s quiet, but you’re close enough to him to be able to hear it.

You furrow your brows, finally mustering the courage to look up at him for the first time.

“Did you…” You trail off. You feel a strange sensation inside your chest as your eyes meet his. It was something you had never felt before, a small burst of a fluttering that briskly washed over you before disappearing just as quickly. Like a pinwheel was placed inside of you and a strong wind had suddenly started blowing. You shake your head, returning to the matter at hand. You are probably just experiencing some anxiety due to what has happened, you argue mentally. “Did you just laugh at me?”

As you finally take him in properly, the guy before you looks as dazed as you felt just now, courtesy of your minor panic attack; his lips agape and his round eyes blinking while his dark pupils are fixed on you. You two remain that way for a few seconds in an impromptu staring contest that causes the peculiar feeling to bloom inside your chest once again.

When he finally speaks, his voice is soft. “You… offered to bind a notebook for a stranger,” His lips twitch into a grin. “It was a little funny.”

You open your mouth but promptly close it, unable to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make you appear like more of an idiot than you already do. You sigh. “Sorry,” you mumble, your voice low as well. “I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I’m—”

“You two, on the back,” your professor calls out in a louder voice, however still keeping her calm demeanor. You and your seatmate turn to look at her. “I’m going to teach a few new phrases useful for traveling now. How about you two talk after class? This is actually quite perfect. Minho is one of my best students, so he could help you catch up to where we are.” She offers the two of you a small smile, and you feel your cheeks burn.

This class wasn’t mandatory, and you didn’t need it to get your degree. It is still a class, nonetheless. Ever since high school, you’ve always hated people who disrespect their professors by brazenly talking or sleeping during class.

“I’m sorry, professor,” You muttered. Beside you, your seatmate — Minho, as he was just called — scoots closer to you and whispers something you don’t understand under his breath. You look at him, confused. He chuckles, and you feel his breath on your cheek. It makes the odd fluttering return.

“Gomenasai,” He repeats more clearly, his voice louder, “It’s ‘I’m sorry’ in Japanese.” He offers you a smile, and you soak in just how good-looking he is. Ever since you first raised your head to look at him — when the pinwheel inside your chest rapidly spun and unexplainedly made you feel nervous — you knew he was a handsome guy, but his soft smile and calm eyes made him look even more annoyingly pretty.

Before you’re able to do it yourself, your professor speaks again and pulls you out of your trance.

“In this case, Sumimasen would be a bit more appropriate,” she corrects Minho, who clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath. The woman chuckles at his reaction. “It’s okay. This is also something you can explain to Y/N after class.”

As the class went on, you couldn’t help but notice how Minho didn’t take any notes. Your mind latched onto how you ruined his notebook and how it was your fault that he couldn’t properly study during today’s class, so you couldn’t find the courage to offer him some paper so he could take notes.

After almost an hour of unrelenting guilt swallowing you up slowly, you place your hand on Minho’s shoulder as soon as the professor announces class is over after assigning the students a small written assignment.

“We could talk outside? If you want,” you offer him, feeling the now-familiar nervousness come back, making your mouth speak faster than your brain can even think to rationalize, “There’s a bench I really like outside this building. It’s a good spot. There’s a nice shade, and it’s secluded enough that people don’t bother me when I’m studying. Or googling how to bind a notebook.”

Minho lets out a brief chuckle. “Okay. I would love to talk on your favorite bench.”

You blink at him. “I don’t have a favorite bench.”

“Hm, it sure sounded like it. You listed some good attributes of that bench,” He argues, a grin etched onto his lips.

“I told you I say stupid shit when I’m nervous.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words. “You’re nervous?”

“Of course I am. I never bound a notebook before.”

Minho lets out a hearty laugh this time, his head thrown back and his eyes turning into crescent moons before he shakes his head. He picks his notebook off the table, showing you the crinkly light brown-tinted pages. “It’s dry now. I actually kind of like it, gave the pages a sort of vintage vibe. You don’t have to bind me a new notebook,” He reassures you, placing the small book into his bag. “As much as I would love to see how that would turn out.”

And just like that, your nervousness fades away. You smile at Minho, asking that he follow you over to your favorite bench.

The two of you talked for almost two hours. During that time, Minho helped you catch up with the vocabulary and phrases you had missed in class. When you asked him how he was able to know so much off the top of his head, his lips curled into a crooked grin as he sheepishly told you that he had been taking Japanese lessons since he was in high school. He explained that because he procrastinated signing up for an elective course, the advanced class was full by the time he got to it, so he decided to go for the introductory one instead. You chuckled and questioned why he would choose to spend his time on a course when he already knew everything being taught. He shrugged and explained that it was nice to have at least one class in which he didn’t have to try and that the fact that it made him feel smart also helped.

Not even your shift at work was able to make your conversation stop flowing, as Minho offered to walk with you to the coffee shop upon realizing it was near his apartment.

That was one of the many coincidences and things in common you found to have with each other that day.

It started with ordinary things like the fact that Minho had three cats back home just like you and how he had been collecting plushies since he was a child, while you had started your own collection as soon as you had access to money of your own. Or how your favorite authors were Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë — Minho swore you would die if you saw the special edition books he had back at home.

Then, it became a bit more amusing as you found out that Minho had worked at a convenience store chain when he first finished high school, and it was the same one you worked at for your first job after starting university. And you both had worked there for exactly a year and two months before quitting. You then told him about how you ended up attending this university after your top three choices turned you down, and his choices were the same as yours. And just like you, he also got rejected by his top three options, which led him to attend the same university as you.

You two couldn’t hide your bewilderment, eyes widening and lips bursting into laughter as these linked facts kept spilling out during your conversation. It was strange, you thought, but in a comforting way. It was almost as if you two had been living weirdly similar lives, all while having no clue about the other’s existence.

The two of you approach the small coffee shop while talking about your degrees. You try your best not to bore Minho with your ‘existential crisis-inducing psychology talks,’ as Hyunjin always put it, and you mostly listen to him as he talks about programming. He tells you that his dream is to develop cozy games that people can jump into without much thought, simply to relax. He says he knows how stressful life is and that people sometimes need something they can mindlessly do to get their minds off of shit. You resonate with it more than you care to admit, as cozy idle games are one of your favorite things to do while locked inside your room.

“So I do these freelancing gigs to make money but I’m actually set to start my first quote-unquote real job in two weeks,” he beams as you two stop in front of the coffee shop. Minho’s eyes lit up the moment he started speaking about his degree, and although you didn’t understand most of the terms he used, it is always endearing to watch someone talk about something they’re so passionate about. “There’s this guy who’s graduating soon who recruited me and a friend for a project he’s working on, so it’s not technically a job and we’ll work in his living room. I’ll still get some money and the chance to actually develop something, though, so it’s better than nothing.”

You smile at him. “If you like programming as much as your words led me to believe, I’m sure it won’t even feel like a job.”

Minho’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he scratched his head. “Sorry, I talked your ear off about shit you don’t even understand.”

“I think everybody likes to hear people talk about things they like,” you assure him, “It was a good talk. I still can’t believe we have so many things in common. It was kind of funny how they kept coming up.”

Minho chuckles, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Guess the universe is giving us signs that we should be friends.”

“It seems like it.”

That day, you work with a persistent smile engraved on your lips. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good about meeting someone new. Despite your awkward first encounter, you found that talking to Minho was as easy as talking to an old childhood friend. It felt refreshing. The last friend you made was Hyunjin — whom you were so grateful to now for pushing you out of your comfort zone — and after that, you had unknowingly closed yourself off.

Minho had managed to open up your mind to the idea of letting someone in almost comically fast. And you loved that.

It’s been a month since you’ve been attending Japanese classes, and your studying sessions with Minho — which always turned into long conversations on what now had really become your favorite bench — were a weekly appointment, much like having him walk with you to work twice a week.

Today, however, Minho stopped you with a hand on your shoulder as you made your way toward your usual spot. When he asked you if you would like to study at his favorite bakery today instead, his eyes rapidly blinking as he looked at you through his bangs which had grown to slightly cover his eyes since you met him, you just couldn’t say no. He stammered as he promised that the place was even closer than the one where you worked, so you wouldn’t be late for your shift.

You smiled at his apparent nervousness, finding it endearing. You knew all too well how stressed you felt when offering something new or initiating plans with a new friend, and Minho seemed to be the same.

“Good thing you made this offer today, on my day off,” you bumped shoulders with him. “It’s almost like you knew.”

You begin walking, and Minho gently pushes you to the side so that he’s the one walking on the edge of the side of the sidewalk. You shoot him a questioning look, and he blinks at you again.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he chuckles, “My mom taught me a guy shouldn’t let a girl walk on the street side. I know it’s old-fashioned and probably made me seem like an ancient guy who wouldn’t let his wife work or something. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s kind of sweet. I never had anyone do that with me.”

You feel the pinwheel twirl inside your chest again.

The two of you approach a familiar building together. You furrow your eyebrows as you take in the floral curtains on the windows and the pretty font adorning the store sign of your favorite bakery. You think about how it would be nice if you two came here on another day. Maybe you could use that opportunity to finally introduce Minho to your other friends.

You only realize Minho has stopped walking when he calls out your name. When you turn around, he’s standing in front of the bakery with a smile.

“This is the place.” He points toward the white door with a nod as you return to where he’s standing.

No fucking way.

“This is your favorite bakery?” You ask, although it is a stupid question. Minho nods. You play with the strap of your bag. “Okay, this is starting to sound ridiculous, but I swear I’m not lying. This is my favorite bakery, too.”

Minho’s eyes widen at your words, and his lips curl into a smile again. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I will not,” You chuckle.

Minho opens the door and the two of you walk inside, the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods bringing back great memories you made in this place. You often come here with your two roommates; it’s close enough to both your house and university that you can skip out on taking the bus, the atmosphere is always relaxing and comforting, not to mention the delicious cakes they sell. You smile to yourself as you remember Eunha scuffing down far too many slices of their chocolate cake after a nasty breakup a couple of months ago, tears streaming down her face so violently that the poor little old man who owns the shop appeared to check up on her.

“Their lemon cake is my favorite.”

“The lemon cake is what made me—”

You and Minho speak concurrently, with you unable to even finish your sentence before you both freeze for a couple of seconds in front of the only small table available at the crowded shop.

He’s the first one to move, pulling out his chair a bit awkwardly. “We should…” He trails off before clearing his throat as you sit down before him. “Should really make a written list of things we weirdly have in common.”

“At this point, I think it’d be easier if we made one of what we don’t have in common.”

You two settle for the obvious choice of two pieces of lemon cake with a cup of coffee for him and a glass of cola for you. Minho almost looked offended when you informed him that you hate coffee, wondering out loud why you even worked at a coffee shop before ensuring he could change your mind with just the five amazing facts about coffee he thought about off the top of his head. You shrugged him off with a grin. You couldn’t deny the irony of being a barista and having to make endless cups of a drink you despised daily, but you were sure Minho could never change your mind about coffee.

You two talked about your improvement in Japanese in the last month until the waiter returned with your order. Minho insists you’re a natural and could be on his level in a couple of years if you tried, but you roll your eyes at his compliments. You’ve never been naturally good at anything. That wasn’t about to change now.

“You know,” Minho begins once the waiter steps away from your table, looking around the coffee shop. People slowly started to leave as it got later in the day; the place was now much quieter, and the atmosphere even more cozy. “I used to think I would meet somebody in a place like this.”

“Like, in a romantic sense?”

Minho hums, still looking out to his side. You notice his side profile is really pretty, and you have to hide your smile by sipping your drink.

When he returns his gaze to you, he’s the one smiling. “Yes, in a romantic sense. Like being destined to meet someone.”

“Look at you, a hopeless romantic,” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. You never thought of Minho as someone like that. He seemed rather methodical, always following a routine and too engrossed in his codes to be preoccupied with something like love.

Minho furrowed his brows. “Why the eye roll?”

“I just don’t believe in that stuff,” you shrug with a small smile, “Stuff like destiny, soulmates, love…” You trail off, taking your spoon and poking the slice of cake in front of you. “Love has the awful tendency of being bad.”

Of course, you once believed all those things. Doesn’t everybody? But love has shown you time and time again that those are things reserved only for some people. And, clearly, you are not one of them. So why believe in it?

“It’s the most amazing thing in life,” Minho’s voice almost startled you as you were so deeply entranced in your thoughts.

You don’t lift your head to answer him, instead drawing mindless shapes on the icing on top of your cake.

“What is?”

“Love,” He replies in a soft voice. When you finally look at him, you’re surprised to find Minho’s deep eyes already looking at you, a small smile adorning his lips. “Love is the most amazing thing in life.”

You freeze.

You tear your eyes away from him, gaze focusing on the plate in front of you again.

You were careful with your rules. No parties, no bars, no talking to your male co-workers unless absolutely necessary, and no male friends unless they were in a relationship or proved beyond a reasonable doubt to only be interested in you platonically — which was what Minho was. So, why did him bringing up love make you feel so nervous?

Under the table, you unwittingly bounce your leg. This was stupid. Minho has been your friend for a month now; you see each other twice a week, and you talk for hours, always so comfortable around each other in a way that is still so new to you. He has never flirted with you or treated you in any way that led you to believe that he wanted anything more than to be your friend. You will not let your foolish trauma ruin what was proving to be an amazing friendship. He was simply sharing his thoughts on a topic. That’s all love was: a conversation topic.

You force out a chuckle as you snap yourself out of your senseless panic and look up at Minho once more. “We can just agree to disagree?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, something you can’t quite pinpoint swimming in his deep eyes as he looks at you. Instead of breaking the silence, he scoops up a piece of cake with his spoon and raises it like a glass. You shake your head with a giggle as you realize what he’s doing, toasting your spoons together at the center of the table before you both eat your spoonfuls of cake.

“You know,” He speaks as soon as he’s done eating, his eyes having never left yours. “Love can never be bad. I don’t think so, at least. It never makes anything worse. It can only ever make things better.”

You hum and shift in your seat, lowering your gaze toward the table. The truth is, you hate talking about love. That — coupled with your shame regarding your past relationships — is the reason why you never indulge in this type of conversation, even with your own mother. But years of swallowing down your thoughts and opinions whenever the subject was brought up only caused a buildup of emotions in your throat. So much so that you only realized you were talking once you were midway through a sentence.

“Love can make so many things worse,” you affirmed, your eyes following the polka-dot pattern on the tablecloth, “Losing someone is bad enough, but put love into that equation, and it just worsens tenfold.”

Minho nods. “By that logic, you can say that having someone by your side is always good, but if it’s someone you love, it makes it better tenfold, right?”

You let out a chuckle as you realize you two could go back and forth about that subject for ages.

But it felt good to finally speak out your feelings on the matter, so you continue, “Love can’t be that great if people can so easily fall out of it and for so many different but equally stupid reasons. You’re suddenly not attractive to them anymore, or you have different opinions, or they love picking fights but hate it when it’s the other way around…” You trail off, swallowing down a lump in your throat as you speak out of experience. But Minho didn’t need to know that. You lift your eyes. “Not to mention falling in love with a new person all while supposedly already being in love with someone.”

“That’s not genuine love,” Minho shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, as if it was his first time hearing of such things happening. “Real love is unconditional and understanding. Real love makes the person you love beautiful simply because they’re them. Real love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself as well.” His expression softens, and his eyes lock onto yours. “And real love makes it so that you can only see the one you love. You can’t possibly fall in love with someone else if you’re truly already in love.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, nodding slowly. You hate the fact that part of you is desperate to believe that what Minho said was true. And you hate it even more that an even bigger part has already dismissed every single word that left his lips.

Desperate to shift the subject from Reasons Why My Exes Left Me — which only leaves you feeling sad and pathetic — back to Love Is Amazing, you decide to try and lighten the mood.

“Okay, but then explain to me how love is so great when you can just have sex with anyone, and it feels the same either way?” You question him with a teasing grin on your face. Minho shakes his head with a smile and eats another bite of his cake. You continue, “Be it a stranger at a party you met ten minutes ago or the love of your life, sex will always be sex. Therefore, you’re wrong, mister Love-Makes-Everything-Better.”

Minho chuckles around his mug, eyes closing as he almost spits out his coffee. His eyes are like crescent moons when he looks at you again, clearly amused by your words. “Well, yeah, of course, sex will always feel good no matter who you’re doing it with. It’s sex, and sex feels good,” He shrugs dismissively. “But sex with love is different. You aren’t just fucking, just fulfilling your own desires selfishly. Love makes sex better because you feel good simply by making the person who’s so important to you feel good. It makes you want to melt into the other person and become one with them because close isn’t close enough when you’re in love.

“Touching them feels like a gift, like heaven. Tasting them feels like heaven. Hearing their voice in their most blissful state feels like heaven. The trust and connection you feel in that moment is heaven, and that’s only possible through love. You can have sex with anyone, but you can only make love to someone you love, and those are two different things. That’s how love makes sex better. Therefore, I’m not wrong.”

As you take in Minho’s words, spoken so casually, like it was common knowledge, they leave you speechless. You watch him as he smiles triumphantly when he realizes you aren’t going to refute him — because you can’t refute him.

You berate yourself mentally as you notice the familiar feeling of arousal wash over you as you repeat his words inside your head. Not because it was Minho who said those things, but simply because that kind of sex sounded so good. Good in a way you had never once experienced before. Like heaven, as he had put it.

Your experience with sex has always been simply about fulfilling desires. You thought that was all there was to it.

Until now.

And even so, with your ex-boyfriends, it was always unbalanced. Ninety percent about their pleasure and only ten percent about yours. The first time you had a guy go down on you was the first time you had sex with Hyunjin, and by that point, you had already had five boyfriends. It felt weird when it happened, and you remember Hyunjin whining about how you didn’t have to ask him every five minutes if he was really okay with doing that. It had always been different with him, the good kind of different. He had never been selfish during sex; if anything, Hyunjin was too much of a giver, sometimes forgetting about his own pleasure in order to focus on yours. You thought that was the best sex you could ever have.

Until now.

Because, even with Hyunjin, there was never a genuine connection. It never felt like a gift to touch him and have him touch you. It was never anything more than sex, more than something you both did because it felt good and it was easy. He slept in your bed, and he cuddled you until morning came, but it had never once felt anything close to what Minho described.

You can’t help but wonder if Minho has ever experienced that. You desperately want to ask him, but you two aren’t close enough for that yet.

You also can’t help but wonder why you spend the rest of the evening raging a war against yourself as your mind is consumed with thoughts of what it would be like to experience that kind of sex with him.

It’s late in the night on the following Saturday, and your phone incessantly vibrating under your pillow rudely demands your attention just as you’re about to fall asleep. You squint your eyes as you type in your password. You sigh as you see Hyunjin’s name on your screen because of course it’s him.

Hyune: I’m outside open the door Hyune: please open the door? quick? Hyune: mrs. choi is gonna kill me if I use the intercom pls I don’t wanna die Hyune: I’m in my pajamas do you know how humiliating this is

Hyune: and I’m highkey pissed off Hyune: I WILL sleep on the bench outside your house if you don’t let me in and then I’ll die and who’s gonna live with the guilt? Hyune: you Hyune: OPENM TEH DOOR

You roll your eyes at his dramatic texts, stepping out of the comfort of your bed and padding across the floor as quietly as possible so as not to wake up your roommates. You open your front door and speed past the hallway and Mrs. Choi’s home, reaching the outside door in record time. It’s something you’ve done more times than you care to admit in order to let Hyunjin into your house. Your tenant was a sweet woman, insistent that she was modern and understanding of ‘young people’, but she despised people coming into your home any later than midnight.

You step outside, finding Hyunjin pacing back and forth like a creep in front of your house. True to his words, he stood in his checkered pajama pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was in a ponytail, the strands messily sticking out everywhere like he had tossed and turned in bed before coming here.

“You look like shit,” you speak up, causing him to jump and let out a gasp. You chuckle as he scowls at you, climbing the few steps to reach the door.

“I had a fight with Mingyu,” he grumbles as you two walk toward your front door. “He told me I spilled paint on his favorite shirt, which is fucking impossible since I don’t even paint anywhere near his shit.”

“I mean, you are a messy painter.”

Hyunjin shoots you a look as you close your front door behind you. You take off your shoes and walk toward your bedroom in silence. This was routine. Hyunjin knew the rules: no knocking on the outside door, no buzzing the intercom, no shouting from outside, keep your voice down in the hallway, no talking until you reach your bedroom. It was all automatic at this point.

His voice is louder when he speaks again inside your locked bedroom. “First of all, I am not a messy painter. The paint is messy, not me. Second of all, if Mingyu wasn’t a fucking idiot, maybe he wouldn’t leave his favorite shirt on the floor of the living room right by my art corner,” Hyunjin huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, “If that’s how he treats his favorite shirt, I feel bad for his girlfriend.”

You let out a chuckle, which is cut short by him pulling you into his arms. “Hyunjin, that analogy makes no sense.”

“Yes, it does. You treat your favorite shirt like shit, you treat your girlfriend like shit,” he states matter-of-factly before pulling you into a kiss.

This was routine. It was all automatic at this point.

Hyunjin kisses you like he’s angry. Because he is, and that’s one of the reasons why you two do this. You let out your frustrations during sex. You complain, and you let off steam until you both feel okay again. It’s been this way for a year and some months now, and you never once thought anything of it. It was beneficial for you both, so why change or question it?

But that was before your talk with Minho. Before you were awoken to the truth that you’d been having meaningless sex your whole life.

When you’re pulled away from your thoughts, you’re already laid in your bed with Hyunjin hovering over you. His lips and hands wander through your body as he mumbles things you can’t quite understand; you can only make out your name and Mingyu’s mixed with curses. You try to bring yourself back to the moment, bringing your legs to wrap around Hyunjin’s waist and bring him closer to you.

He stops kissing your neck and yanks his shirt over his head, his hair untying in the process and falling on his face like a curtain. You giggle and try to fix it with your fingers. Hyunjin pouts.

“Don’t you think I’m right?”

You frown and hope he can’t see your confused expression in the dim lighting. You truly weren’t paying any attention to what he had been saying, too engrossed in your thoughts and too busy feeling sorry for yourself. Hyunjin’s tendency to tell you about his frustrations during sex always left you a bit puzzled, but it was also oddly sweet. It was like he trusted you so deeply as a friend that he believed he could share anything with you, no matter the time.

So you nod, lightly pulling at his hair. “Of course you’re right.”

He hums and buries his head on your chest, grinding his hips into your clothed core. “Of course I’m right,” he mumbles under his breath.

Everything is a blur after that, your mind insistent on repeating Minho’s words like an annoying echo. When Hyunjin’s tongue fucked you hastily, and he murmured something about you tasting so good, all you could hear was Minho’s voice telling you how tasting the person you love feels like heaven. When Hyunjin pushed his cock into you, his hands gripping your thighs and head buried in your neck, all you could think about was how this sex paled in comparison to what you could’ve been having — what you could have already had — if only you weren’t so damn unlovable.

You knew that Minho didn’t intend to make you feel bad with his words. They weren’t targeted at you. But that didn’t stop your mind from sabotaging and putting yourself down. It was one of your biggest talents, after all.

Your body was present and responsive the entire time; you moaned because it felt good, and you kissed Hyunjin because you wanted to. But you were mentally somewhere else.

And the worst thing is, you’re a hundred percent sure Hyunjin doesn’t even notice it.

Because this wasn’t love. This was only sex.

And this was all you had ever known.

Time flies by faster than your brain can comprehend; before you know it, another month goes by. You only managed to go to your favorite bakery with Minho one more time before your work hours were changed, your shift now starting a mere thirty minutes after your Japanese class ends. He still walked you to work twice a week, but you would be lying if you said it didn’t upset you to have to let go of your weekly talks.

Minho also became busier due to his own job. With so little time to see each other face to face outside of class, most of your talks took place over text. He talked about his job with so much adoration it made you a little jealous; his partners were now simply friends he worked with, and his joy over finally being able to create a cozy game made it so that he pushed himself over his limit, often sleeping on his friend’s couch after working until four a.m. and getting through the next day on excessive amounts of coffee.

That was how you two came up with the idea of Minho dropping by the café where you work to pick up coffee for him and his friends. He would drop by at least twice every day, his friend’s house — which also served as their office — only one bus stop away.

The first time Minho came by, he had his wallet and phone in one hand, a sharpie and a block of sticky notes in the other. You eyed him curiously as he scribbled on the piece of paper while your co-worker prepared his coffee. When he was done, he stuck the note to the monitor in front of you on the counter. You furrowed your brows as your eyes shifted from the Japanese words on the bright yellow note back to Minho’s smug face. You were certainly grateful he at least had the courtesy of including the romanization of whatever he had written down. Not that it helped you in any way.

“Since our studying sessions after class were rudely taken from us, this is your extra homework. It’s all words we already learned. You just gotta think a little bit, and you’ll figure it out. You’re smart, I know you can do it,” He assured you.

Expect you weren’t that smart and ended up giving up by the time you got home that night. The piece of paper was no longer sticky on the border due to you carrying it around all day, boring holes into it as if that would magically give you the answer. You snapped a picture of it as you got ready for bed and sent it to Minho, begging him to put you out of your misery and simply give you the answer. ‘I want to drink coffee,’ he replied. You slapped your hand over your forehead with so much force you were sure the entire house had heard you. He was right; you did learn that in class. Curse the Japanese language for being so difficult.

After that, it became a routine. You waited expectantly for Minho’s visits daily, but you are extra excited today. It’s a Friday, and your birthday is tomorrow. After much pestering from Eunha, you agreed to have a small gathering at your house. It only made sense to invite Minho; he’s become one of your closest friends in the two months you’ve known him, after all.

As he walks into the coffee shop, sticky notes and sharpie in hand, you chuckle to yourself. You two chat about the development of his game, with Minho kindly using layman’s terms when explaining it to you. He also tells you about how one of his friends got so frustrated with a code that he threw his phone at a wall before immediately regretting it and crying on the floor next to Minho’s desk. Before you can get worried, he assures you that it’s just an ordinary day at the office, and the three of them end up laughing everything off at the end of the day.

After taking his order, you watch as he begins writing down your homework for the day on the small piece of paper in his hand. As you look around the coffee shop, most tables are empty, and the sun is starting to set outside the glass doors.

“You wanna come over this Saturday?” You ask Minho, who looks up at you before adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. That was one thing you learned about Minho since he began coming over: he wears glasses. Not every day, but enough times for you to notice how good he looks with them. But friends find each other attractive all the time, you justify it. “You never came over to my house, and my roommates really want to meet you. Plus, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”

Minho’s eyes widen. “Your birthday? And you save that information to the end?”

“It’s not a big deal. I usually never even celebrate.” You shrug lightly. You’ve never been big on birthdays, as you just don’t see the reason why it’s supposed to feel different from any other day of the year. “But my roommate pestered me to do something this year, so I agreed to have a party.”

Minho shifts on his feet. “I… really hate parties…” He trails off.

“It’s not a party party. I promise!” You hold up your pinky finger. “It’s more of a get-together, just my roommates and my only two other friends. And, you…” You trail off, “If you come.”

Minho blinks his eyes a couple of times before tearing the piece of paper he was writing on from the pad and crumpling it in his hand. He quickly jots down something new and sticks it to your forehead.

“Minho!” You scold him, to which he laughs, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. You advert your gaze from him as your persistent thoughts regarding how unfairly pretty Minho is begin to flood your brain once again. You take the note and analyze it:

はい (Hai)

You smile as you understand the word, looking up at him.

“I’d love to come to your birthday party,” He beams. “Thank you for inviting me.”

To say Minho is nervous would be an understatement.

He gets out of his car twice, ready to march back inside his friend’s apartment like a coward and pretend that nothing happened both times. Only when he thinks back to how you smiled at him when he agreed to your invitation does he find the courage to start the car and drive to your house. He’d noticed for a while now how much he likes you. But it was when he agreed with the idea of going to the café you worked at to pick up coffee that it truly dawned on him that he really liked you. Minho hated taking the bus, he hated doing anything other than zoning out on the couch during his breaks, he hated bustling shops, and he hated how his co-workers both managed to have such intricate coffee orders.

Yet he agreed to that idea, even suggesting he drop by two times a day.

He noticed he’d felt a familiar small whirlpool inside his chest whenever he was with you, when he heard you talk about something you liked or saw you smile. He’s also noticed that this tiny whirlpool has been growing bigger and bigger the more he’s been around you.

But that doesn’t scare him. Minho loves love. He loves to be in love, to love someone, and to make that person feel loved. It’s his favorite thing about life. If he was honest, he missed it so much he didn’t know how he was able to live without it.

Just down the block from your house, he parks his car and gathers his phone and his present for you — clearly clumsily wrapped, even with his co-workers’ help. He feels another wave of nervousness wash over him as he approaches the house; he’s an hour late and needs to mentally prepare to socialize with people he’s never met before. Minho chuckles as he realizes a silly party makes him more nervous than the prospect of possibly falling in love.

You open the door almost as soon as he rings the intercom, and he walks down the hallway into your house door; the crooked box he’s been holding makes his hands sweat. The first thing he notices as you open the door is your styled hair with a big white bow on the back, looking much prettier than the ugly bow he and his friends managed to stick on top of his present. He smiles at the sight and scratches his ear in a futile attempt to stop them from turning red.

God, he really liked you, didn’t he?

“Thank you for coming,” you tell him with a smile. Minho notices the quiet music playing inside the house, the simple decorations, and the cake on top of the kitchen counter. He mentally sighs in relief. This truly wasn’t anything like a big party. “You’re wearing your glasses again,” you point out as Minho walks inside and removes his shoes. He subconsciously reaches his left hand to touch his wire-rimmed glasses that sit on his nose bridge. He grimaces and curses at his friend for making him stay later than he was supposed to today.

“I had no time to go home and change,” He apologizes, fingers now toying with the stupid bow on top of the box. “I usually wear contacts, but they make my eyes dry if I stare at the computer for too long, so I just… wear my glasses at work…” Minho trails off, suddenly feeling stupid, his eyes looking anywhere but toward you.

You chuckle, lightly touching his glasses for a second before moving away again. “You always come to the coffee shop wearing them, and I think you look really good,” you assured him. His eyes quickly met yours, only for you to advert your gaze this time. “You should wear them more often.”

Minho only hums, lightly nodding his head. He feels stupid all over again as the image of himself throwing his contact lenses down the drain crosses his mind.

Clearing his throat, he finally hands you your gift. You giggle at the mismatched wrapping paper and poor excuse of a bow, which makes Minho let out a chuckle and murmur an apology. You open the box, and your eyes light up when you spot the stuffed bunny you have been raving about since you two met. It was the only animal missing from your collection, but you couldn’t find the right time to save up money to buy it. Minho didn’t need to ask if you liked it as he watched your smile grow bigger as you looked at the brown bunny.

“Come, I gotta put him in my bed now,” you beamed and took Minho’s hand in yours, leading him to the living room. There, five people sat on the couch and on the floor. Minho furrows his brows as he takes in a head of light brown hair covered by a familiar beanie. “These are my friends. Eunha’s the girl with short hair on the floor, and Soojung’s the one with blonde hair next to her. They’re also my roommates,” You point at them as you speak. “That’s Jisung sitting next to Soojung; he’s also her boyfriend. And then Hyunjin, with the long hair, sitting next to Chan on the couch. Everyone, this is Minho from my Japanese class.”

With that, you pad off to your room with your bunny in tow. As Chan finally turns to look at Minho, his shocked expression mirrors his. They stare at each other for a while before Chan finally breaks the silence.

“What the fuck, that’s my co-worker.”

Minho narrows his eyes. “So this is why you had to leave an hour earlier today?”

As you come out of your room, you chuckle. “Chan is your co-worker?” You ask Minho, “I can’t believe this. He’s been our friend for longer than I’ve known you. He came like a package deal when Jisung began dating Soojung.”

“Damn, dude, you hate me so much you never talked about me to your friend?” Chan gasped, a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.”

Minho rolls his eyes but is unable to stop a small grin from forming on his lips as the entire living room erupts in laughter. “Of course I talked about you. I talked about you and Seungmin all the time. It’s just I…” Minho shifts on his feet, shrugging. “I never said your names.”

More laughter seeps out of the group of people, including Chan, and Minho finds himself laughing along this time, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

He sits beside Chan on the couch while Hyunjin heads to the kitchen with you. He quickly asks him how he came to be friends with you in the first place. Chan explains that he’s been in a class with Jisung for almost two years, and the boy had always pestered him about ‘old people’ needing to hang out with people their age. That’s how he ended up meeting Soojung as soon as she became Jisung’s girlfriend. You and Eunha were an inevitable addition, seeing as you were not only roommates but also great friends.

You offer Minho a beer, which he declines. As much as he wanted to, no beer was worth having to take the bus back home. He silently sips his cola as he watches your group of friends chat. You end up sitting beside him on the couch, your friend Hyunjin to your right.

Minho finds that he missed getting together with people like this and didn’t even realize it. His only friends were left behind back at home, and although they were less than an hour away by bus, their busy lives prevented them from meeting in person. Minho’s favorite memories from his teenage years were having his friends over and just doing nothing for hours, talking about stupid shit until their stomachs hurt from laughing. Eating takeout on the couch with Chan and Seungmin after work came close, but they were always too tired and too stressed to entertain the idea of making jokes. Those were times when Minho realized he had really become an adult.

Jisung’s loud voice suddenly booms through the living room and startles an already drunk-looking Eunha, who murmurs something about the younger boy giving her a heart attack one day.

“I’m bored,” he grumbles, draping his body over Soojung. “Let’s play spin the bottle.”

Soojung rolls her eyes at him, flicking his forehead. “Are you a teenager?”

Jisung pouts, sitting up straight once more. “We’re in university. University students play this fucking game all the time,” he states matter-of-factly. “Don’t make me regret falling for an older woman.”

“Jisung, I’m only three years older than you, I’m not—”

“Don’t make me call you noona.”

Soojung inhales deeply before turning to face the people sitting on the couch, placing one of the empty beer bottles scattered around her feet on top of the coffee table. “Let’s play spin the bottle. But let’s do dares instead of kissing, that’s too boring.”

Jisung beams, cuddling close to her like a needy child. Minho chuckles at the sight.

Eunha scoots closer to the couple so the group is seated in a circle around the coffee table, half of them on the couch and half on the floor. Minho never had the chance to play spin the bottle, which seemed to be such a staple game of one’s teenage years. By the time his friends were off sneaking into clubs and drinking behind their parents’ backs, he was already in a committed relationship and well aware of the fact that he didn’t enjoy parties.

It seems silly, but he’s glad he won’t live past his youth without experiencing such a trivial thing.

Soojung spins the bottle, and the neck stops facing Chan while the bottom faces Jisung.

“Take your shirt off,” Jisung waves a finger at Chan, who looks somewhat disoriented. Minho chuckles under his breath just as you do the same. You two face each other and let out a hearty laugh, your arm coming to rest on his bicep before retrieving back to your lap faster than Minho hoped it would.

Soojung squishes Jisung’s cheeks and places a small kiss on his lips. “You’re such a fucking chaotic bisexual,” she giggles, “Y’know, Chan, Jisung has had the biggest crush on you since you two first met.”

Chan shakes his head with a stifled laugh and proceeds to remove his shirt, neatly placing it on his lap.

Jisung is next to spin the bottle, this time landing on Soojung, who you dare to show her most embarrassing text. After showing the group a string of texts showing raunchy screenshots of a manhwa she’d been reading at that time, all sent to one of her class group chats which included some professors, she lets out a heavy sigh and orders Eunha to spin the bottle before any questions can be asked.

This time, the neck faces you while the bottom faces Eunha herself. With a smile, the short-haired girl dares you to kiss Minho.

He feels his smile drop at the very second the words leave her lips. This was not what he had in mind for tonight.

“What?” You sputter, “Why?”

Eunha shrugs, adjusting herself so she’s seated upright and staring right at you. “Well, he’s the only one here who would be actually fun to see you kiss. Jisung and Soojung are okay with each other hooking up with other people, so that’s no fun,” she explains, using her fingers to list her reasons, “I’m not into girls, so that’s no fun for me. Hyunjin is too obvious. We all already know Chan, so it would also be boring. Minho is like fresh meat. That is fun.”

Minho’s brain begins finding a suitable excuse for why you two can’t kiss, because he’s certain you have no interest in doing it. Not only are you friends, but your reaction didn’t exactly exude excitement at the prospect of kissing him. Just as he’s ready to lie through his teeth, you turn to him and place your hand on his shoulder, a touch so soft he’s barely able to feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Is this okay with you?” You ask him, the tone of your voice so sweet Minho feels like it melts his every thought until his brain is nothing but a sugary pool filled with only you. So he nods because god, yes, this is okay with him.

You gingerly place your right hand on his cheek, bringing your faces closer until your lips press together. The whirlpool inside his chest spins fast, like a vortex dragging every sense of his body toward you and only you.

You remain still for a few seconds, Minho’s eyes opening slightly to search for any sign of regret on your face. Before he can even properly look at you, your lips begin to move against his — gently and carefully, like you’re not sure if this is what he wants. Minho deepens the kiss and hesitates three times before committing to placing his left hand on your waist. The giggles around the two of you nothing but a muffled murmur to him. He presses another kiss to your lips, his body shifting until he is all but caging you against the back of the couch. But just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you push him back with a smile, Minho chasing after your lips.

He blinks a couple of times, eyes zoning into your smudged red lipstick. He subconsciously bites his own bottom lip, wondering if any of the color transferred to him. The surrounding murmurs bring Minho back to the moment this time, awkwardly clearing his throat before lifting himself off of you and sitting upright on the couch. He tunes out every comment regarding the kiss to the best of his abilities, focusing his energy on slowing down his heart rate. When he catches you giggling while looking at him, your arm touching his bicep yet again, he nods, grabbing his cola bottle from the floor and taking a sip.

Minho can’t remember the last time kissing someone got him so worked up. He entered a long-term relationship at such a young age that he’s only now realizing how unaccustomed he is to kissing someone new, to the rush that comes with having your lips pressing against the ones of someone you like. It was exhilarating and a bit terrifying all at the same time. He was awkward, unsure where to put his hands, uncertain if you were enjoying yourself. He was also greedy, wanting the moment to last for much longer than it had.

This had cemented the fact that he does, in fact, really like you.

After kissing you, the whirlpool living in his heart had now fully transformed into a tiny hurricane — with great chances of growing even bigger.

Minho only notices the game has continued upon hearing your voice complaining beside him. He watches as Soojung shrugs.

“It’s the only thing I could think of, sorry.”

“But why?” Hyunjin asks, placing his cup on the coffee table. “It’s a stupid dare.”

The blonde girl scoffs. “No, it’s not. I’ve had to basically live with you two for the past year, and it’s common knowledge how easily you get a boner for her.”

“Not true,” Hyunjin retorts, although it sounds more like a question than an affirmation.

Eunha blurts out, “You once got a boner watching her stir a cake mix.”

Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth before groaning, pulling you into his lap by the waist. You apologize to him quietly, to which Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.

Minho feels as if he’s intruding on something private.

You sit on Hyunjin’s knees, almost falling off his lap as you clearly try to keep some distance between the two of you. Hyunjin clicks his tongue and pulls you closer to him until your back is pressed up against his chest. He whispers something in your ear, to which you lightly slap his arm as his lips upturn into a grin.

Minho is definitely intruding on something private.

At some point, you turn so you’re sitting across Hyunjin’s lap, your body now facing Minho. He can’t help but watch with dark eyes as the younger boy’s hands wander through your body; playing with the buttons on your blouse, squeezing your thighs, and caressing your skin a little too close to the hem of your skirt. He furrows his brows as he tries to understand your relationship with Hyunjin, seeing as you’re obviously not put off by his hands on your body.

Minho is so transfixed by the sight and his racing thoughts that he only realizes the game has ended when someone taps his shoulder from behind the couch. When he looks back, Chan is holding a cigarette and motioning towards the stairs that lead to the house’s terrace.

In the chilly open space above the house, they sit on a bench behind a tall vertical planter. Minho wonders who tends to the garden as he observes the various flowers, as well as some vegetables and herbs scattered around him. The terrace is small; the garden taking up all the space, an old wooden railing that overlooks the quiet street the only other thing in his sight.

He and Chan chat about school and work, as they often do nowadays. After Chan recently broke up with his girlfriend, Minho found that his friend had become much more closed off, so the list of subjects they would talk about became minimal. Chan bites his thumb before taking a long drag of his cigarette. He chuckles when he mentions being scared of graduating next year. Minho bumps his shoulder with him, arguing that being in his situation is worse. He admits that he regrets starting university late and that being in his first year when he should already be in his third is discouraging. Chan dismisses his worries, reminding him of how Minho is often the one to fix broken codes and come up with ideas for their game whenever Seungmin gets stuck.

“A degree is just a piece of paper,” Chan says, throwing his cigarette butt at a nearby trashcan. “You’re already a fantastic programmer, Minho.”

“You’re just saying that because I saved your ass today.”

Chan shrugs. “You’ve saved my ass basically every day since we started working together.” After a beat of silence, he asks, “Why did you start uni so late, anyway? You never told me.”

Minho hums, digging his brain for a way to sum up the entire story. “It’s complicated—”

He’s interrupted by footsteps on the stairs leading to the terrace. A loud giggle echoes through the open space before you and Hyunjin step into their field of vision. The long-haired boy holds you from behind, and you two stagger toward the railing.

“Wish everyone would go home already so I could just fuck you,” Hyunjin whines as he turns your body around so you’re facing him. Minho almost chokes on nothing at those words, and Chan stifles a laugh with his hand. He curses the small space as they’re able to so clearly hear everything you’re saying.

You playfully kick Hyunjin’s shin. “Don’t say it like that, Hyune, what the fuck.”

“It’s true, though,” Hyunjin continues, pressing you against the railing. He towers over you, so the only thing Minho can see from where he’s seated is your white skirt floating in the wind behind the tall boy. “I had a stressful, terrible, awful, dreadful week. All I kept thinking about was coming over and relaxing with you.”

“See, when you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so awful.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “There’s nothing awful about fucking. I know how much you like it, don’t act so coy.”

Minho watches as your hands clench around Hyunjin’s gray shirt, pulling him closer and kissing him softly, much like you had done to him a few moments before.

Minho presses his lips into a thin line. He connects every dot available to him inside his head and suddenly feels pathetic.

Hyunjin being too obvious of a choice for you to kiss, his hands all over your body, his words about fucking you, the way you kissed him like it was a habit.

If you had a boyfriend, why did you agree to kiss him?

The words swarm Minho’s brain. He vaguely recalls you and Hyunjin eventually walking out of the terrace. Chan starts a one-sided conversation about one of his classes, with Minho humming after every couple of sentences to appear like he’d been listening when his head is too busy wondering how to feel about everything.

Minho recalls Eunha walking up the stairs and shouting for the two of them to come downstairs to sing you happy birthday. He recalls Hyunjin’s hands wandering through your body throughout the song, his lips pressing small kisses on your face and lips as you smiled. He recalls feeling confused, stressed, jealous, and pathetic.

Minho is only truly back to the present moment once Chan’s voice bids him a loud goodbye, and the door slamming behind him makes his senses finally return to him. As he looks around, he notices that the only people left in the living room are Jisung, Hyunjin, and you. Beside him on the couch, Hyunjin stretches with a loud groan.

“I’m gonna take a shower. D’you have any of my clothes in your room?”

You sigh from where you’re sitting on the floor, resting against the television stand. “Of course, I do. You’re always living shit behind, you’re like our third roommate at this point.”

Hyunjin chuckles, walking over to give you a small peck on the lips before disappearing into your room. Minho gnaws on his bottom lip with a bitter smile as he realizes Hyunjin will sleep over at your house. The ugly feelings return as he remembers his thoughts about you these past few weeks when he unknowingly cultivated too big of a crush on you. Even on his way here tonight, when he had chuckled to himself at his lack of nervousness in the face of potential love.

Love.

Minho can’t help but wonder why your view of love is so negative when you’re in a relationship. And, at the same time, he doesn’t dare to think about it for too long, fully aware that his foolish affection-filled brain will come up with a myriad of reasons — all where your boyfriend is the sole culprit for your distaste — and Minho knows better than to let those thoughts linger for too long inside his mind. He knows himself all too well, knows only awful shit would come out of assuming things about your relationship; the urge to beat Hyunjin senseless for being a shitty boyfriend and making you think that way about love being the worst of them.

“I’m too drunk to go back to my dorm,” Jisung suddenly speaks, his eyes glazed over as he stares ahead. “Gonna crash here tonight, too.”

Minho takes that as his cue to leave.

You walk him outside, a small smile on your face the entire time. He feels guilty not being able to reciprocate the gesture. As you tell him goodbye, thanking him for coming, you pull him into a hug. You hadn’t hugged much since you met, and Minho foolishly wants to draw you closer to him, to feel your body pressed against his just as it was pressed against Hyunjin most of the night. But he can’t do that.

“Are you okay to walk back by yourself?” You ask him as you pull away.

Minho nods, forcing out a small smile. “My car is parked just down the block.”

“That’s why you didn’t drink!” You exclaim with a giggle, “I forget that most people our age already drive. My anxiety didn’t allow me the chance to even try and get a license, so I just accepted my fate of taking the bus.”

“I could drive you…” Minho trails off. There he goes again, being pathetic. “If I have the time… You can give me a call and I’d be happy to drive you anywhere.”

You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another embrace. Minho smiles genuinely as he buries his head in your hair.

The drive back home has Minho feeling stupid all over again as he thinks about how you’re probably in bed with Hyunjin by now. The whirlpool is back inside his chest, but it isn’t good or welcome this time. It’s agonizing and painful.

Love had never been painful. Love had never been bad.

But he had never experienced love toward someone who already loved somebody else. Although you brazenly state that you don’t believe in it, you must feel some type of love toward Hyunjin if you’re willing to be his girlfriend.

As he silently drives home, Minho finds himself agreeing with you.

Maybe love can be bad, after all.

Minho feels stupid.

This has become a constant in his life.

He had always thought of himself as a logical person. Programming had taught him that everything is predictable and fixable if you work on it hard enough. A broken code? It may take him six hours of staring at the computer to figure out it was nothing but a missing semicolon, but he will get there in the end. It was annoying and frustrating, but it was always something easily fixed.

He thought love was like that. It had always been like that with him.

Until he fell for you.

Minho was coming to terms with the fact that maybe love and programming were nothing alike. Love isn’t predictable. Loving someone who is already in love with someone else isn’t easily fixed. He can’t backspace and delete your boyfriend from the equation.

It’s been a little over six months since you two first met. Minho has consistently gone to the café you work at every day, and you two still had endless talks over text messages. You talk about everything and anything, from silly things like sharing pictures of both your growing plushie collections or your love of that particular coffee shop’s lemon cake to more serious topics like how Minho learned how to cook when he was twelve so his mom wouldn’t have to do it by herself, and now his roommates take advantage of that, or how sad you are that next year you will have to leave the house you’ve grown to love so much.

But, whether it is in person or through text, you still avoid the topic of love. You don’t ever bring up Hyunjin unless he’s part of a story you were already telling, and Minho feels his heart heavy as he slowly allows himself to imagine what it could be that led you to hate love so much.

He desperately wants to ask you, know your reasons, and make sure you’re happy with your boyfriend. But he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries and doesn’t know how to go about it without scaring you. So he never does anything, like a coward.

Minho finds himself coming over to your sharehouse on most weekends since summer break ended. Your countless get-togethers at that house have become a hard-to-break habit. Hyunjin, Jisung, and your roommates are always assured to be there, with Chan joining whenever he isn’t overwhelmed with work or school, which was rare.

Minho had always been a hopeless romantic, always doing things for love that people repeatedly warned would result in regret. This time, it was forgoing visiting his parents and friends back home just to spend most of his summer with you. Despite not being able to pursue you in the way he truly wanted to, Minho still wanted to be your friend. You were still a fantastic person he loved to have around; that didn’t change simply because you had a boyfriend. Although he could feel a bit of his heart cracking every time he had to see you, all while knowing he couldn’t do anything about his feelings for you.

He couldn’t change your perspective of love if he weren’t allowed to love you.

In all the time he spent at your house during summer break, he ended up becoming good friends with Jisung, as you tended to stick next to Hyunjin most of the time. Minho didn’t mind it; he is your boyfriend, after all. At least, that’s what he repeats to himself every night he comes over like a mantra as he almost masochistically forces himself to watch how Hyunjin kisses your lips and caresses your skin or how you play with his hair and snuggle with him on the couch. He also endures the countless nights he’s left your house knowing all too well that Hyunjin would be spending the night with you in a way that Minho can only ever dream about.

Tonight, in particular, Hyunjin seemed to be all over you like bees on honey, buzzing around you everywhere you went, his hands never leaving your body as he pulled you closer to him every time you even slightly pulled away. Because god forbid your bodies not be touching in some way for even a split second. Before he knows it, Minho is downing his third bottle of beer of the night.

From where he’s sitting on the couch, Minho rolls his eyes as discreetly as he can while he watches Hyunjin pull you to sit on his lap on the floor as you all get ready to play a game of cards. He gnaws on his lower lip because he knows he’s being petty and borderline childish. You’re Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Of course he’s all over you, of course he wants to be close to you, of course he wants you on his lap. Minho concludes with a bitter chuckle that he is, indeed, pathetic when it comes to you.

He gulps down more of the awful-tasting cheap beer.

The night comes to a close after far too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, with Jisung winning more than half of them. His ethics and morals fly out the window the moment the cards are handed to him, as he manages to create the most absurdly offensive phrases known to men every single time. Minho found himself groaning and yelling at the younger boy as the alcohol took over his system. He doesn’t know how much of it was simply his annoyance at Hyunjin clinging to you like a koala throughout the entire game disguised as competitiveness.

He doesn’t think he’d like to know either.

Like every night he comes over, Minho is the last person to go home. He has to call an Uber, far too buzzed to want to sit at a bus stop all alone at this time of night. He hadn’t even noticed how he kept downing his drinks until he felt the familiar buzz of inebriation wash over his body a while before the game ended. Although slamming his fist into the coffee table with a whine about how he had only been given lame cards should’ve been a sign.

As he waits outside your house by the fence, he suddenly hears the door shut behind him and your voice calling out to him. He smiles at the faint slur of your speech and the way you drag out the last syllable of his name like you always did when you were a bit drunk.

“I told you to wait for me!” You reprimand, opening the gate to stand next to him. “Look how lonely you look here all by yourself.”

Minho just shrugs with a smile, shaking his head. He did wait. He waited almost half an hour after announcing he should leave as you disappeared into your room with Hyunjin. He was still waiting, in fact, only mindlessly scrolling on his phone for the past ten minutes instead of finding a ride as he hoped you would come outside when you saw he wasn’t in the living room anymore.

You poke his shoulder, bringing his attention away from his phone to your smiling face.

“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it? Especially that last round when Hyunjin won after being tied with Jisung for the whole game,” you grinned, “Seeing Jisung make a whole damn case about how much better his card was really made my night. Think that’s the first time I’ve seen him act like a law student since I met him.”

Minho chuckles, bringing his attention back to his phone. Seeing your smile and how your eyes light up while you talk about something you like brought back the whirlpool inside his chest, which wasn’t a pleasant feeling any longer. It made him glum to think how a once beautiful feeling had turned into nothing but discomfort simply because he was lovelorn.

He hums. “You must be proud to have your boyfriend put an end to Jisung’s annoying winning streak.”

“What do you mean?”

Minho looks up from his phone, eyes wandering through your puzzled face. He furrows his brows for a second. Maybe you’re both drunker than he’d thought.

“I mean, it must’ve been nice to see Hyunjin win after Jisung basically made us all want to quit the game,” he explains, watching as your expression turns from confusion into shock before you let out a loud laugh.

Minho’s eyes widen, worried your laughter might wake up your neighbors. He gently shushes you, his arm grabbing your shoulder, but your smiling face only makes his lips stretch out into a grin. He suppresses a giggle as you catch your breath, shaking your head.

Minho smiles at you so fondly he’s certain he looks like an idiot. “What’s so funny?”

“Hyunjin isn’t my boyfriend,” you explain like it’s obvious. “We’re just friends. I thought you knew that.”

Minho only then realizes he had never once heard you refer to Hyunjin as a boyfriend, nor had any of the people around you. But his assumptions weren’t so ill-judged, either. You two acted like a couple. It wasn’t so absurd to assume that you were one.

He finds himself staring at your amused face for a few seconds before forcing himself to turn his attention back to his phone.

You acted like a couple, but you were just friends. Minho groaned mentally.

“So, you’re like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah… I don’t particularly believe in love anymore, Minho. I thought you knew that from our talk a while ago,” You chuckle, shifting on your feet. “Hyunjin is one of my best friends. We just hook up ‘cause it’s convenient.”

Minho hums, his fingers ghosting over his phone screen. “Sounds like you’re running away from love.”

He blinks a couple of times as he takes in his own words. He would have never said such a thing if it hadn’t been for the liquid courage flowing through his veins.

You shrug, moving to sit on the white bench just outside the house. “Well, yeah, that is what I’m doing. Love hasn’t been kind to me at all. I have no interest in going after it, only to be hurt again. It’s a movie I’ve watched before and I hated the ending every time.”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek, finally clicking the button to find a ride, his thumb pressing on his phone screen more forcefully than he intended. He felt angry. You didn’t deserve to settle for a friend with benefits due to convenience. Had you wanted to be in that situation, it was your every right to do so, but you were in it out of fear of being hurt.

He felt sad. He wished you didn’t equate your past experiences with love to everything it could be. Bad experiences in love were possible for everyone — even for him, who used to believe unwaveringly that love could never be hurtful — but that didn’t mean it was all there was to it. Minho desperately wanted to show you that. The good side of love, the side that made him put it above everything else in his life on so many occasions, the side that made him crave it even now when it hurt more than it felt good.

And, strangely, Minho felt relieved. It was a small percentage of the chart of current emotions he was experiencing, but prevalent nonetheless. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he felt happy Hyunjin wasn’t your boyfriend and, most importantly, that you weren’t stuck in an unhappy or toxic relationship, as he had so often feared.

His ride arrives, and he’s overcome with a wave of courage. Minho would much rather live with regret than with a constant ‘what if’.

Shoving his phone inside his pocket, he offers his hand to you, who looks up at him curiously from where you’re sitting on the bench before taking his hand. Minho pulls you to your feet and hugs you. With his hand on your waist, he pulls your body closer to him, finally holding you tightly the way he’s always wanted to do. He presses a kiss to your head, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, “I’m gonna change your mind.”

He feels your body shake with a chuckle, but he only tightens his hold on you.

“What?”

“About love, I’m gonna change your mind,” He answers matter-of-factly, “You deserve to feel love without being afraid.”

Minho pulls back from the embrace just enough to see your face, and he’s surprised to find you smiling up at him. He smiles back.

“I will change your mind.”

Minho had just dropped you off at your house, ready to drive around aimlessly until he absolutely had to go back to his dorm, when Seungmin texted him.

Kim Seungmin: hey my sister’s engagement dinner is tonight Kim Seungmin: and i might have fucked up something in the code i was working on so now there’s a chance that you fish 100 rare fish at once 🤪 Kim Seungmin: pls pls do me a solid and fix it before chan sees it and kills me? Kim Seungmin: love you hyung 💚

Minho initially groaned at the messages, thinking of the many ways in which he could murder Seungmin and get away with it. But, ultimately, he didn’t want to go back to his dorm anyway, so he gladly turned his car around. If he was lucky, this would take hours and he would have a valid excuse to crash in Chan’s cramped living room.

He punches the code to the front door and his friend greets him with a puzzled expression.

“I forgot to do the, uh, troubleshooting for this week,” Minho blurts out. It’s the first lie he can come up with, and he hopes it’s convincing enough. Chan nods slowly. Seungmin might have saved him from having to endure his roommates on a Saturday night, but he still owes him.

“It’s all good,” Chan says with a sigh, “I’m most likely gonna pull an all-nighter designing these new characters. Anyway, how did you waste your time today?”

Minho has been taking you on what he likes to call Subtle Dates for a month now.

Chan affectionately calls them Waste of Time Dates.

Minho rolls his eyes, sitting down on his own desk. “We went to Han River and walked around till sundown, then watched the Banpo Bridge water show.”

Days like today were rare, so Minho was happy. Most weekends, it seemed as if the whole world was conspiring against anything he planned with you.

“Oh, how romantic of you,” Chan gasps, feigning amazement. “Did you at least kiss her this time?”

“You know I can’t just kiss her like that. I know she’d freak out if I tried to do anything romantic with her,” Minho taps his fingers on his desk, knowing he sounds ridiculous. But he has a plan. He just hopes this plan actually works out soon. “I don’t mind being patient.”

He hears Chan scoff. “So, you took her on another one-sided date and then drove her home so Hyunjin can fuck her?”

Minho’s fingers stop tapping on his desk, his hand coming down to slam on it before he can stop himself. He lets out a heavy sigh, and Chan mumbles an apology. But, the truth is, he knows his friend is right. Just last weekend, Minho dropped you off straight into Hyunjin’s arms, the younger boy waiting for you to come back in front of your house.

And Hyunjin wasn’t the only inconvenience that rendered it almost impossible for the two of you to spend time together. Minho had to cut most of your dates short due to Chan calling him about something urgent that only he could fix at work, or you canceled altogether because your roommate was upset and you didn’t have the heart to leave her alone like that. There were also times when Minho was too tired to even go out at all, like on the day of his birthday, which resulted in you coming over to Chan’s apartment and eating cheap takeout food with him and his two friends.

Minho found himself dealing with countless bumps in the road when it came to finding a way into your heart.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” Chan says hesitantly, “You clearly like her a lot.”

Minho repeatedly opens and closes the code he’s supposed to fix. He sighs. “I like her more than a lot, and I don’t even know when that happened.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” His friend explains, his face disappearing behind his own computer screen. “I just can’t see what will change if you go on dates with her when she doesn’t even know they’re dates and if she’s just gonna go home and have sex with someone else. I don’t get it. What difference does it make?”

He can hear Chan scoffing, although he tries to disguise it by clearing his throat. Minho shakes his head.

“It makes all the difference because that’s not love. I wanna show her what love is, and that it isn’t always bad. I promised her that I would.”

Chan sighs, sliding his chair toward the mini-fridge by the couch. “Agree to disagree?” He asks, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it in Minho’s direction. He grabs it mid-air, just before it hits him in the face, and clicks his tongue.

“Agree to disagree.”

Minho plugs his headphones into the computer, drowning out the noise of Chan’s pen sliding across his iPad with his brown noise playlist. But he can’t drown out the obstinate thought ringing inside his head, screaming at him that Chan is right.

Taking you out on dates — which you don’t even know are dates — doesn’t really make a difference if you’re just going to go back to your convenience with Hyunjin at the end of the day. If you think you’re just friends going out together, and you go back home at night to the comfort of sex without the love you’ve been running away from for so long, what Minho is doing truly is useless.

It’s just like when he argues with Seungmin through their codes, screaming at the younger boy in all caps about something that’s broken, even though he knows he’s going to be the one who will end up having to fix it.

Minho’s fingers come to a halt on the keyboard.

Closing his work, he opens up Google and finds the first flight he can to Japan. Almost as if he’s on autopilot, and his brain is completely shut off. He books the flight and the cheapest hotel he can find, using almost all the money he’s saved up to move out of his hell of a dorm. It might be the most idiotic thing he has ever done in his life, but he’s so in love it hurts him. And he loves love, and love with you — the thought of that alone has his heart beating at his throat. He doesn’t want to keep on with these futile attempts at trying to make you see that love is good and that, maybe, love can be good with him.

The truth is, he feels scared. Maybe even more scared than you do. He is terrified of knowing the answer, of finding out that maybe he could change your mind about love but that it would simply lead you to someone else’s arms and he would have to endure the pain of unrequited love until it inevitably faded away with time.

Minho would gladly live with that pain if it meant you were happy.

But he needed to know.

He adjusted his glasses — a childhood nervous habit that returned after he started wearing them more often since you complimented him months ago — and retrieved his phone from his backpack.

He typed and deleted more times than he’d like to admit.

Me: Hey, it’s late sorry Me: Just wanted to know if you’d be up for a trip to Japan? Me: In two weeks Me: For study purposes Me: We’d finally have the chance to use what we learned in class lol Me: Chan was supposed to go with me but he has a family thing so he can’t anymore Me: Everything’s already paid for and he said he doesn’t mind if you go in his place Me: Lmk what you think

Minho’s fingers typed as his brain came up with excuses and lies, sending more messages than he needed to. He couldn’t tell you he booked a whole damn trip with you just to see if maybe, possibly, you have feelings for him too.

He all but throws his phone across his table after turning on Do Not Disturb. He’ll need to muster up the courage before reading your answer, and having his phone buzz for anything that wasn’t your reply would just be torturous. He felt stupid, would feel even more so if you turned down his invitation. He almost doesn’t want you to answer, wants to pretend he never even sent anything.

Because it was stupid.

But love is stupid, and he is in love.

Worst-case scenario, he’s stuck with Chan in Japan for a weekend while he laughs at him.

Best-case scenario, he spends a weekend with you in Japan. No letting you go back to another man at the end of the day, no more hiding that he is taking you out on dates, no more distractions, no more inconveniences of your daily lives.

Minho opens the code he was working on again, quickly typing out:

// NOTE: Minho will fix this.

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