#I actually haven’t been able to decide if | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

likeumeanit9497 · 7 months ago

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the re-do | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n participates in the triplets' "dirty q&a" video, where she accidentally infers that her experience losing her virginity to matt back in high school had been mediocre. instead of taking offence, matt makes it his mission to show her just how much he has improved since then.

warnings: SMUT; established friendship; m/f oral; unprotected p in v; dirty talk; 18+

notes: hi guys! this is my first ever one shot so pls be gentle with me (i'm genuinely so terrified to post this). it has absolutely NOT been proof read forgive me, but i hope you all enjoy <333

��Guys why am I actually nervous to film this?” Nick proclaimed from his place in the backseat of the car beside me. “No I am genuinely so scared right now.” Replied Chris from the seat in front of me as he began passing out our respective orders from McDonalds.

“We can’t act nervous or else the fans are gonna go even crazier than they already will.” Added Nick as Matt adjusted the camera on the dash. “You’re sure you’re gonna be able to handle the inevitable shit talking that’s gonna come from all this?” Matt asked as he turned to face me in the back. I took a deep breath but nodded. “The more they see me the more desensitized they’ll be. They’ll have to eventually get over it.”

As one of the triplet’s closest girl friends, I had been on the receiving end of a fair amount of hate from their fangirls on the internet. Because I had known them since elementary school, I had been a part of many of their earlier videos when their fans had still been pretty chill about our friendship. But over the past year, a new wave of younger fans had found the videos and had made it their life mission to publicly bash me any chance that they could. It became too much when, a few months ago, one of them decided to spread a rumour that Chris and I had slept together based on nothing other than strategically edited clips of us smiling at each other. It was then that the guys and I had made the decision to keep me as out of the public eye as possible.

However, the guys had sat me down last week to explain how fed up they were with how restricted they felt they had been in their content. They wanted to make an attempt at reclaiming a fandom built primarily of viewers closer to our age, and they thought that the best way to try that was to ignore the petty complaints and make content that they wanted to make. So, since I had been staying with them in Los Angeles for the month, I had agreed to not only be in one of their regular videos, but I had agreed to be in their ‘dirty q&a’ video. I couldn’t lie, I was a bit nervous, but mostly I was excited that my friends were finally confident enough to make videos with more extreme topics.

“Alright guys, ya’ll ready?” Chris asked, intaking a sharp breath while his hand hovered over the record button on the camera. We all responded with a falsely enthusiastic “ready!”, and the camera was turned on.

“Alright, first question,” Nick began after his long-winded introduction filled with disclaimers and explanations for their change in content. “How many people have you slept with?” Already with the first question, it was obvious that the guys were tentative about answering. “Bro I don’t know, next question.” Chris responded, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’ Chris?” Asked Matt tauntingly. “I mean I haven’t fucking kept track of everyone I’ve slept with.” He responded bluntly, before realizing how bad that had sounded. We all, however, erupted into laughter immediately. “Okay okay it’s not that bad guys I swear, I just have a bad memory is all.” He attempted to remedy his previous answer, but all three of us continued to laugh.

“Matt, how about you?” Asked Nick, to which Matt simply held up five fingers to the camera. “Same with me.” Nick agreed before turning to me. “Y/n? Spill it.” I rolled my eyes before answering truthfully. “Seven.” I shrugged, and I caught Matt’s smiley eyes through the rear view mirror.

“Alright next question is…” Chris was scrolling through the responses to their Instagram threads. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

“Sixteen” We all responded in unison, and immediately buckled over in laughter. “Not all at once though ya’ll.” Nick explained through his laughter, while mine and Matt’s eyes flew open and Chris’ laugh turned into hysterics. “Well…” Chris began before he was cut short by the three of us telling him to shut up. “I’m definitely gonna have to cut that one out. Sorry you two fools, I kind of set him up there.” Nick rolled his eyes as he looked between Matt and I.

Ironically enough, the fans had been half right in their rumour about Chris and I sleeping together. I had slept with one of the triplets before, but it wasn’t Chris.

When we were sixteen, Matt and I had decided that we wanted to lose our virginities to each other. It had been a no-strings-attached decision, and our friendship thankfully never wavered after it was done. Both Nick and Chris had already lost theirs that same year, and we had both just kind of wanted to get it over with. Obviously, this piece of information was known only by Matt and I, and of course Chris and Nick since they had barged into the room while we were in bed together. Even though the vindictive side of me would love to have the fans know this piece of information and shatter their dreams, I knew that the fallout would be an absolute nightmare.

“Okay let’s see…” I had been handed Nick’s phone to choose a question to answer and was scrolling through my options. “Here’s a simple one. Favourite position? Mine’s speed bump for sure.” I placed the phone down, satisfied with my confident answer, only to be met with multiple pairs of confused eyes. “I beg your pardon? The fuck is speed bump?” Asked Nick as he took his phone back. “The one where you’re kinda just lying flat on your stomach with the guy behind you. Trust me it’s chef’s kiss.” I responded simply. Chris’ facial expression turned from confusion to one of understanding. “Ohhh yeah that’s a good one.” He replied as he dapped me up. “Great, gonna have to edit that out too unless you want the rumours to get really bad again.” Nick said as he rolled his eyes. “Shit, sorry Nick.” Chris said, giggling slightly.

“Let’s just move on.” Matt said as he began scrolling on his own phone. “Best and worst sexual experiences.” He read off of his screen. There was a moment of silence while we all thought of our answers. “I had a girl throw up on my dick once. The problem is I don’t know if that makes it the worst or the best though.” Said Chris, earning a loud groan from each of us. “You’re sick.” Replied Matt, giving his brother a disgusted look.

“I mean I guess the worst sex would probably be my first time right? Like that makes sense right?” Asked Nick in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Chris’ confession, to which I nodded in agreed response without thinking. I caught Matt’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, this time seeing them filled with a pleading expression. Realizing what I had done, I silently prayed to the universe that my action would go unnoticed by the others. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, my head nod didn’t make it past Chris, which was made incredibly clear when he mumbled to Nick behind his hand that was hiding his smiling mouth from the camera.

“Did you see that?” He asked, and Nick looked confused so he continued, “Y/n agreed with you about her first time.” He managed to get out before erupting into laughter at the expense of his brother. Matt threw his hands up in the air once Nick joined Chris in his giggling, and I winced from my place in the backseat; also mouthing an apology to Matt’s reflection in the mirror.

“Bro come on it was my first time! I guarantee you were trash your first time too.” Matt said in an attempt to repair his ego as he threw his empty cup at Chris. “Maybe so, but I don’t have the girl who I lost it to here in the car to confirm it.” Chris snarked back, playfully nudging Matt’s shoulder. “We all gotta start somewhere dude.” He added when Matt didn’t respond. As Nick continued choking on his own laughter, Matt crossed his arms and stared out the window, very clearly wishing he was anywhere but there in that moment.

“Okay okay,” Nick began catching his breath. “We need to cool it because 90% of that what we just filmed is completely unusable. Let’s please just try to make it through this video without exposing Matt and Y/n’s bumpy sexual history again.” He pleaded as he began scrolling through his phone to find new questions.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“God, that was rough.” Said Chris as we all climbed out of the parked car. We had finally finished the video. It took us an hour to film, and would still be edited down to just twenty minutes of content where we weren’t exposing big secrets or directly fuelling past rumours.

“At least it’s done. It might be a while before I ever want to do that again.” Nick responded as he opened the garage door leading into their house. “Agreed.” Added Matt from behind me as we climbed the stairs to the main level. We all walked over to the fridge to grab drinks, as if the beverages would clean our dirty mouths.

“Alright,” Chris began after a hefty chug from his Pepsi, “I’m going to my room. Matt, Nick, get on Fortnite with me.” He began descending the stairs. “I’ll get on once I shower Chris. I have a desperate need to scrub this FILTH off of my body.” Replied Nick, and he began walking towards the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Y/n, come upstairs whenever you want to go to sleep and I’ll get off the game.” He called over his shoulder as he disappeared at the top of the stairs.

Matt and I were left alone in the kitchen, him sitting at the table and me sitting on top of the counter in between the stove and the fridge. Swinging my legs carelessly, I decided to break the silence first. “I’m really sorry about all of that in the car Matt. I didn’t mean it.” He looked up at me and chuckled. “Yes you did, and it’s not a big deal. I know I wasn’t great back then.” He responded before taking a drink from his can. I smiled softly at his response but decided to leave it be. There was no use in trying to deny it. The sex was just boring, short, and awkward; the way that most first times are. At least he didn’t take any offence to it.

“You know,” He began after a few moments of silence, his eyes shooting to mine as he stood up from his place at the kitchen table. “I’ve gotten much better.” A playful smirk travelled to his lips as he began walking towards my frozen figure on the counter. He stopped just a few short centimetres away from me, so close that I could reach out and touch any part of him that I wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me, until I felt his early signs of arousal press lightly against my knee.

My throat was dry, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Even though Matt and I had slept together when we were younger, the dynamic was much different than now. The proposition came about awkwardly, and we were a fumbling mess with very little understanding of how it felt to be aroused. But in this moment, I was very very aroused just from this conversation.

In my silence, he placed a firm hand on my hip, rubbing his thumb across it gently. “I can do just about anything. Just let me know how you want it and I can give it to you.” My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I felt my panties dampen. He used his free hand to push my legs apart so that he could stand in between them, and my limp hands subconsciously moved up to grab onto his shoulders. At the first sign of my willingness, Matt quickly leaned forward and peppered soft, teasingly slow kisses along my neck. His lips travelled up to my ear, where he bit the lobe playfully before whispering, “Well, tell me. How do you want me Y/n?”

His words caused me to clench on nothing and I nearly moaned from the anticipation. With him still waiting on my response I whispered back, “You can do anything you want to me, Matty.”

Without missing a beat, he attacked my lips with his own and I melted from the immediate relief. I moved my hands from his shoulders up to the base of his head, and as his tongue danced along with mine I pulled gently at his messy hair; my own mouth filling with a moan falling from his lips. His right hand traveled up my grey hoodie to find that I had nothing on underneath, and he lightly brushed the bottom of my left tit with his thumb. Suddenly his hands moved from under my shirt and gripped my ass as he effortlessly lifted me off the counter and into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he stumbled towards his bedroom.

Once inside the undisturbed room, he placed me down on his desk, my ass hitting the mouse and causing the computer to turn on; casting a light on the otherwise dark room. He wasted no time in removing my hoodie, leaning me back slightly so he could easily twirl his tongue along each nipple. I hummed in pleasure from the warm, wet sensation of his mouth connecting to my skin, and brought my hand down in between our bodies to softly run my hand up and down his clothed hardness. After a few moments, he pushed my hand away and dropped to his knees in between my legs.

Pulling my grey sweats off my body and pushing my thong to the side in one quick motion, Matt took a moment to relish in my swollen, dripping hole. “I don’t remember you being this wet for me last time.” He smirked as he looked up at me with blown out pupils. “Let’s see if you taste the same.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head at his filthy words, and a moan slipped from between my lips as his mouth made sloppy contact with my sensitive bud. I subconsciously grabbed onto the back of his head, suffocating him with my heat as he continued to suck and kiss my clit. As his tongue worked on my nerves, he released a guttural moan that vibrated against my heat, causing my back to arch at the intense feeling.

When we had done this all of those years before, Matt’s movements were lacking in confidence. He had fumbled around my clit blindly, and had ate me out cautiously as if he was afraid of hurting me. Now, this Matt had clearly gained experience, as my stomach was already beginning to fill with the familiar pressure from the build up of an orgasm once I watched him find all of my most sensitive spots; his eyes blissfully closed.

Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away from my heat and I groaned at the loss of contact. He straightened his body back up to my level and brought his face so close to mine that our noses were touching. “Kiss me. I want you to know how good you taste.” He whispered through his glistening bright red lips. More on fire than I had ever been in my life, I immediately attached my open mouth to his, moaning at the distinct taste of my sweet arousal on his tongue. As we deepened the kiss, his fingers found my heat and he ran two of them up and down my folds to collect my wetness before slamming them into my cunt; finding my spongey g-spot on the first pump with his curled fingers.

My head rolled back, lost in the euphoric feeling of his fingers filling me up, and he watched my facial expressions intently as the wet sounds of my upcoming orgasm filled the space between us. “Holy fuck, Matt.” I slurred, my voice coming out choppy as his fingers continued to relentlessly pound into me; never losing contact with that one spot that drove me crazy. “I-I’m gonna-” I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the very beginning of my orgasm roll over my body.

Suddenly, all of his movements stopped and my eyes shot open out of frustration. In the time since my eyes had screwed shut, his own had darkened in arousal. My body trembled from the sudden halt in its pleasure, and he smirked at me. “You want to cum, sweetheart?” He asked, his kind words a harsh paradox to his sinister expression. Still, I nodded eagerly to which he pulled his fingers out of me completely before leaning up and placing his wet mouth right against my ear.

“You’re gonna fucking wait for me.”

I attempted to squeeze my legs together to take some pressure off of my throbbing, unsatisfied core as his vulgar words scrambled my brain, before he pulled me off the desk and pushed my head down so that I was now the one on my knees. Confused, I looked up to find him gazing down at me. He gestured towards his clothed member. “Go ahead.” I grinned slyly.

My turn.

I had made an attempt at giving him head the first time we had sex. Just like him, I had struggled with confidence due to the sole fact that I had no clue what I was doing. Since then, I had had plenty of practice, and I was excited to now be the one to show him my improvements.

I grabbed onto the waist band of his pyjama pants and pulled them down to his knees. With only his tight red boxer shorts covering it now, the outline of his thick cock and the small wet spot at its tip from his pre-cum made my mouth water. I brought my mouth up to the skin on his lower stomach, right above the Calvin Klein logo on his boxers, and began peppering excruciatingly slow kisses along the light sprinkling of hair there. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes to find him peering down at me with curious lust, his mouth open slightly and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

After a short while, I grabbed his boxers and pulled them down to meet his pants at his knees. His hardened cock smacked his stomach on its release from the tight material, where it left a wet patch from his pre-cum. Grabbing it with my left hand, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth and stared up at him as I let it all drip down his swollen member. After pumping my hand for a few strokes, I placed only the tip in my mouth as I watched his eyes dilate. I swirled my tongue teasingly along the swollen tip, tasting the the saltiness of his fluid. Eventually, I began pumping my hand up and down his shaft in rhythm with my head bobbing along the top half of his cock. He shifted on his feet at the new sensation and let his head fall back. I kept my pace agonizingly lazy, knowing that it would drive him crazy.

With my tongue, I licked a strip from the base of his ball sack, up his shaft, and to his tip, earning a hushed whimper from his lethargic mouth before he grabbed my hair and shifted his hips. Looking down at me and holding my head firmly in place, he began thrusting his hips as he kept me still. He started slow, but when he realized that I could take more his pace began to pick up and his cock began to hit deep in my throat. I looked up at him through my tear-filled eyes, and saliva began to drip down my chin. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted out through each thrust. I lifted my hand to cup his balls, giving them gentle squeezes that seemed to send him towards his climax.

As a moan fell from his lips, he pulled my head back so that his dripping cock sprung free before he got the chance to fill my mouth with his cum. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed taking deep breaths as if he was fighting the urge to finish right then, before he opened his eyes and gazed down at me. “Get on the bed.”

I pulled myself up off the ground and, on shaky legs, walked over to his bed with him following close behind. Once I reached the edge of the bed he stopped me, turning me around to face him and pushing me down so I would sit. “Put your feet on the bed and pull your knees up to your chest.” He commanded, and I did as I was told, albeit I was a bit confused. “Good girl.” He praised me as he pulled me right up to the edge of the bed before pushing my legs further apart.

Placing one of his knees on the bed beside me, he lined his cock up with my entrance; rubbing it tantalizingly along my wetness. Placing one arm around my waist to brace my body, he slowly pushed his cock inside of me right there on the edge of the bed. His trusts were slow but harsh, and the position he had placed us in made it so that my cervix was barrelled into each time his hips met mine. He placed his sweat-coated forehead against my collar bone and released small breathless grunts with each deep thrust. “So fucking good Matt. Oh god.” I whined as his pace began to increase in speed. He planted his teeth into my shoulder as we fell back onto the bed; his body now completely on top of mine as he continued to drive into me.

He lifted his head and looked fixedly at my fucked out face, his eyes glossed over in erotic pleasure. With this visual, I was brought back to the first time we had fucked, in a position so similar to this one. His rhythm was slower and much more tentative, and we were both certainly much less pleasing to the other, but still I suddenly got hit with a wave of recognition in how much we had both grown since then.

I was pulled out of my trance by Matt’s commanding voice. “Move back real quick and get on your stomach.” I did as I was told, feeling the emptiness that came from his dick sliding out of my soaking wet pussy. Assuming he wanted me in doggy, I got on my knees and arched my back; my head and shoulders pressed firmly against the soft mattress. I felt the bed move as he climbed on all the way, and in a moment of animalistic desperation I pushed my needy cunt subconsciously back to meet heat of his cock.

“No.” He stated simply, his veiny hands massaging my ass. Confused, I looked over my shoulder as I waited for him to explain. He had an ominous smile as he moved his gaze from my fully exposed cunt to my face. “I wanna see if your favourite position is really worth the hype.” He used his hands on my ass to push it down flat to the bed before adjusting himself so that he could line up correctly. Still looking over my shoulder with glazed eyes, I watched his expression as his cock sunk into my core once again. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyelashes fluttered slightly from the new sensation that the position gave him as he bottomed out. “Oh fuck.” His eyes were fully shut now as he stayed still for a moment. Small beads of sweat traveled down his stomach as I took in the beauty of the man who was making me feel so so good.

Getting turned on even more just from Matt’s visual pleasure, my walls clenched subconsciously and I whined, “Please keep going Matty.” His eyes snapped open and landed on mine, before he leaned forward — one hand beside my head and the other planted firmly to the small of my back — and began pounding into me relentlessly.

The depth of this position allowed me to feel every inch of his cock, and it became impossible to keep the moans and strings of profanity from escaping my lips. This seemed to be the case for Matt too, as over the sounds of my own moans and the wet sounds of our bodies connecting, I could hear the gruff throaty moans of his own pleasure. “Fuck. You’re so fucking tight Y/n.” Even though I was aware that we were both making far too much noise that Chris and Nick would definitely hear, I couldn’t get myself to bring it to Matt’s attention, as the animalistic vocalization of his indulgence was bringing me closer and closer to my climax.

“I-I need to cum Matty.” I managed to vocalize as my nerves began to unravel. “Hold it. Want you to cum with me.” He responded, leaning even further forward so that his body was practically lying on top of mine. He took a free hand and wrapped it around my throat, lightly squeezing the sides as my pleasure became dangerously close to bubbling over.

“P-Please cum for me. I can’t hold it anymore.” I begged, digging my nails into his silk bedsheets and feeling my walls quiver each time he drove his cock into my cervix. His breathing became hitched in my ear and his movements became sloppier. Biting my ear, he asked, “Where do you want me to cum, Y/n?”

Without wasting time, I moaned my response. “Cum in me please. Want you to fill me with it.” At that, Matt slammed his twitching cock into me a few more times before finally telling me what I so desperately needed him to.

“Okay sweetheart. Go ahead and make a mess for me.” Even before his words fully left his dirty mouth, I gave into the overbearing pressure in my stomach and felt my intense orgasm over-take me. Practically screaming his name, my pussy convulsed uncontrollably. I felt the immediate relief and heard the gush as I squirted along his cock and down his legs. “Jesus.” He moaned out as his body suddenly stilled. As my legs shook, I could feel his cock twitching inside of me; painting my walls with his cum.

After we both came down from our highs, catching our breath and reconnecting with our minds, Matt slowly pulled his dick — freshly bathed in my own juices — out of my swollen core. With a satisfied sigh, he threw his body onto the bed beside mine. Both of us laid there for a moment, facing one another with glazed over expressions, before a shameless smile crept onto Matt’s face.

“Well you definitely didn’t squirt the last time we slept together.” He chuckled proudly, and I knew his ego had been inflated. I rolled my eyes. “Well, you didn’t whimper the last time we fucked either.” It was my turn to smile as he covered his face bashfully. We laid there in silence for a moment, both of us lethargic and fucked out.

“If that was anything like when ya’ll lost your virginities then I am extremely impressed.”

Matt and I both shot our heads up and looked around the room for the origin of that familiar voice. We were alone, but my eyes focused on the lit-up computer. On the screen, Matt’s Discord was open to the group with Nick and Chris. I turned to look at Matt, who had also clearly made the same discovery that I had, and whispered, “Did you for real leave the channel unmuted?” He tucked his lips together and shrugged apprehensively, before climbing off the bed and over to the computer.

“Chris, how much of that did you hear?” He asked into his headset. I heard a laugh through the mic. “Oh Matt, I heard it all. Good work. I’m a proud brother.” I covered my face in embarrassment as Matt rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. You’re a perv.” He mumbled to his brother, but I caught the small smile that tried to creep to his lips.

“I’m gonna need a fucking lobotomy to get over the trauma that I was just put through.” I heard Nick’s voice now through the mic and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Bro you could have just left the server, you act like I forced you to listen to the entire thing.” Matt argued with his older brother. “You think I stayed and listened to the ENTIRE thing? What are you crazy?” I was full out laughing now, despite the embarrassment. “I left as soon as I figured out what was happening, but I still heard waaaay too much.” Matt laughed now and muted his mic — perhaps a bit too late — then walked back to where I was on the bed, propped up on my forearms.

“Whoops.” He simply said as he pulled his boxers back up. I shook my head and smiled shyly. “We are literally never going to be able to live that down.” I replied as he draped his body along the bed beside me again. Rubbing his eyes awkwardly, he shrugged softly. “Well, at least they’re gonna have to stop teasing me about my skills.” I smacked his arm playfully and he responded by grabbing me swiftly and pulling me to his side.

“You were impressed, weren’t you?” He asked teasingly, as he held me close. I closed my eyes and sighed, “I was, Matt. Really, really, impressed.” He giggled into my neck at my truthful response and I swatted him once again.

“I’m glad we got our re-do. I’d been wanting that for a while.” He said after a moment. I looked at him with a smile and ruffled his hair. “Me too, honestly. I always knew you had some potential in you.” I teased.

“Well, if you don’t want to have to face Nick right now, you’re welcome to sleep in here tonight.” He offered and I sighed in relief. “That would be great, actually.” I said as I began to sit up. “Let’s get cleaned up first though.” He began as he got up and grabbed us both towels from his closet, “You’re not allowed to get under my sheets until you wash my children off your thighs.” My eyes shot open at his disgusting choice of words and I quickly covered myself with my towel. “Matthew Bernard you are sick!” I exclaimed as we both headed towards his bathroom. “Sure am. But so are you.”

He pulled me into a hug while we stood in the bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. As he rubbed circles on my back with his hand, I sighed. “I think this is the secret to good friendship.” He chuckled before asking, “What is?” Playfully, I smacked his ass over his boxers. “Fucking the shit out of each other once in a while.” He laughed and pulled away from the hug before getting into the shower; leaving the glass door open so that I could follow him. “Shut your weird ass up and get in the shower with me, friend.”

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you

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littlebirdy0301 · 1 year ago

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I have officially entered my nerdiest dorkiest era yet so far

#I’ve been hyperfixating on dimension 20 (dnd actual play) for the past 2 weeks #& today my dnd group was finally able to meet again #& after having watched a couple series now I felt like much less of a beginner! It was much easier to play :))#And shortly ago I was scrolling through the ig of The Fantasy Tavern & boppin to their improvised shanties #& now I’ve got other shanties playing from my music app cause I was like “yo I haven’t listened to sea shanties in awhile they slap”#I feel I may have entered nerd overload #This is the new me. Hyperfixation has decided to turn me into the biggest dork for the foreseeable future

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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 7 months ago

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LEARNING CURVES (M)

★ PAIRING: 00 line x Reader (ft.Mark)

☆ WORD COUNT: 23k

★ GENRE(S): Pure Smut

☆ SUMMARY: After a negative sexual encounter in high school, fear and reluctance hold you back from exploring new experiences. However, a friend offers advice that shifts your perspective, suggesting that perhaps all you need is some practice to improve and feel more confident in trying new things outside of your comfort zone. You would need a lot of practice.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Multiple sexual acts, unprotected sex, orgy, cursing, choking. Literally just sex.☆★ NOTES: I had some fun writing this, shout out to my friend for literally living this life. You made dreams come true.

You loved being able to catch up with your friends; it was rare you got to see them nowadays with your conflicting schedules and new adult responsibilities. By now, you were all grown up, having traded in your sibling-shared rooms for an open loft and independence. You lived alone, and while at times it can feel lonely, you really enjoyed the time to yourself. Spending time alone would allow you to learn more about yourself.

Today, after debriefing with your friends about their sex lives, you discovered that yours is about as dry as the Nevada desert.

Your friends occupy the living room space of your new loft. You had been in your new home for about a month when they decided to come over for a housewarming party. With Jisung's tall, lean frame stretched out on the couch, everyone else had to make room on the floor. Being a lightweight. He ended up knocking out before anyone else. Your friends Chenle, Yang Yang, Yuna, and Mia surround you on the floor. Your not sure how the conversation got started, but everyone was recounting embarrassing sexcapades from the past.

“And then he fell asleep on top of me after finishing. He was practically crushing me; I thought I was gonna die,” Yuna laughs hysterically at the memory.

The idea of your friend experiencing that makes you shudder. Your other friends laugh along easily. The empty alcohol bottles that decorate your carpet and countertops can only indicate one thing: everyone was off their ass drunk. There was easy conversation, unceasing laughter, and smiles so big they hurt your cheeks.

The stories continue on, and you’re enjoying the time you get to spend together. Yanyang tells you about some girl he went home with after class one day and how she could only get off if he was wearing a cat headband.

“So you pretended to be her kitten the whole time?” Mia asked with a laugh. You could tell she was getting a kick from the mental image of Yangyang purring like a kitten.

“It was hot, actually!” He protests.

"Well, I thought this story was supposed to be embarrassing? You’re in to petplay, big whoop?” You chime in.

"Well, it only got weird when she started calling me Mr. Whiskers,” he groans out of anguish at the memory.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were practically weeping at this point. “MR.WHISKERS??”

“There's no way! Tell me you left!” Chenle adds,

“I had to see it through” Yang Yang shakes his head before shrugging. “What about you, miss lonely? Any stories? Don't think we haven't noticed how quiet you are” Yang Yang targets you.

You feel a chill down your spine, like a bucket of ice water was just dumped over you. Although they were more of the second-hand variety, your friends did have some embarrassing stories. They weren't the ones that embarrassed themselves, and that intimidated you a little from telling your own story. Yours had been so embarrassing that you refused to try anything sexual since then. You felt like they wouldn't understand.

"Well, I haven’t really done much.” You say. You wanted to avoid the conversation.

“Oh come on, what about Doyoung? You two didn’t do anything?” Yuna asks.

“No, Well, not really” You could feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment. This was why you didnt want to talk about it. Your lack of sexual experience was probably the reason he broke up with you.

“I've only ever given head, and it was really bad,” you finally admit.

"Well, come on. It was your first time; you can’t beat yourself up about it,” Yuna encourages.

It was back in high school; you had been dating Doyoung for a few months, and you were both ready to take the next step in the relationship. You were too afraid to go too far, so you offered to just give him head.

You should have known better than to try to sneak away at school, but you were young and foolish. Things took a turn for the worse after you and Doyoung slipped into a supply closet in between classes.

You were both really inexperienced and only knew sex from porn. You were overly cocky in your abilities, and so was he. When you first put him in your mouth, you didn't mind your teeth at all. You used too much saliva, making everything too messy. He couldn't get hard at all, so it was hard to stroke it, and so you were just awkwardly flailing your wrist on his length. He wasn't that big, and you thought that maybe if you took him farther down your throat, he would feel better. Big mistake.

You swore it barely touched the back of your throat, but you had just finished lunch like 30 minutes prior, and honestly, the unfamiliar taste of his precum was making your stomach turn a little. The next thing you know, your throwing up on his shoes.

“And then the janitor walked in, and he had to help clean up my throw up” You finish your story, hands cringing at your sides.

Your friends had listened intently through the whole story without interrupting once. You finally look up from your lap to scam their reactions.

Chenle was biting his lip, holding back a laugh for his dear life. Yuna was trying her hardest to look serious as she nodded her head in understanding, but you could see the tears in her eyes that threatened to fall from how hard she wanted to laugh. Yangyang and Mia were fully turned around; all you could see was their shoulders shaking.

“THIS IS SERIOUS!” you whine in aggravation. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. The previous silent laughter turned to full-blown cackling. They were so loud, it made Jisung stir on the sofa.

You pout and cross your arms, trying to shrink yourself away. Thinking back on it after all these years, it was funny now, but it had really taken a toll on your self-confidence. You couldn't even get Doyoung hard, and after he broke up with you, you found it hard to try again. You had dated a few other guys here and there, but the moment they tried to get more physical, you got cold feet. You were a virgin, but if you wanted to be technical, you lost your virginity to a fence in the 5th grade while trying to climb a fence. You had slipped and fallen hard on the fence. You didn't realize it at the time, but the blood in your underwear that day was caused by your hymen breaking, not a deep cut from the fence you couldn't find.

Your friends finally calm down after they see you not laughing along. "Hey, we're sorry,” Mia apologizes “Does it still bother you?”

"Yes,” you say

"Jeez, its been years; you really haven’t had any better experience than that?” Chenle says

“You always know exactly what to say,” you say dryly.

“What he meant to say was you were young and that was a long time ago; you shouldnt beat yourself up about it.” Mia glares at Chenle.

“I guess,” you shrug unimpressed

"Well, practice makes perfect so your not gonna get better if you do nothing,” chenle says

This time, you shoot him a glare at his brutal honesty.

That's how you find yourself downloading Tinder. You had thought about it over the next few days. Your friends were all grown up and living their best lives, and you were still stuck on something that happened in your freshman year of high school. Years had passed, and you needed to move on. Maybe Lele was right? Maybe all you needed was to go out and keep falling until you could stand up on your own. Clearly, they had had their fair share of embarrassing stories, and it had helped them grow. You had a lot of growing to do if you were going to make up for the last few years.

You make your profile very simple. You add a few cute photos; nothing risky because you’re still afraid you might run into one of your friends on the app, and you would just die if they found your account.

You add the description of “just looking for fun” and hope you can cast your net wide enough to catch someone promising.

You swipe for about half an hour until you get tired. You had a lot of planning to do. Chenle probably didn't mean it literally, but that's how you were going to take it.

You knew nothing about being intimate or physical with someone, but you were quite bookish. Instead of love and companionship, you were drawn towards studies and literature.

If there was something you didn't know, you would just crack it open and study its insides. That is how you would approach this; you would treat it as an equation that, with a little bit of study, you could solve.

Practice makes perfect...

Practicing math makes you a mathematician

Practicing science makes you a scientist

Practicing law makes you a lawyer

So technically speaking, if we follow the trend, if we recognize the pattern...

Practicing sex makes you a sexist?

Ok no, but you get the point. With practice, you should improve.

Your phone dings, and you smile at the message you got “What kind of fun are you looking for?”

Renjun was his name, and you had made plans to meet with him this weekend. In between classes and work, you made time to prepare yourself to meet Renjun. You had spoken to him briefly through text. You had told him that you were inexperienced and were only comfortable with giving head. He told you not to worry and that he was more than okay with that.

First things first: you had to deal with your first bully if you wanted to move past your past and loosen its hold on you. The thing that made you insecure, the thing that kept you up at night, you had to overcome.

THE BLOWJOB

You had prepared for this day all week. You read article after article of different techniques to try. You had gone through a whole 18 pack of popsicles, and by the 10th one, you had finally managed not to gag when you reached the last color. You couldn't quite pat yourself on the back yet; you weren't sure if you were getting better or if you had just frozen your tonsils. Today, you would find out, though.

You nervously clutch your phone as you shoot him a text letting him know you were outside. He buzzes you in, and you make your way up to apartment 0323 on the third floor. When he opens the door, you can't help but return his smile. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but this cover was really pretty.

Renjun just had a welcoming aura that made you feel comfortable. When you come inside, he asks if you want anything to drink, and he shows you where his bathroom is in case you need it, making you feel at home. After he does a short walk through, he leads you back to the living room, and you both sit on his couch.

“This is a really nice place,” you comment, awkwardly unsure of what to say “Do you have roommates?” His apartment was very large; you noticed it was on the nicer side of town, and you saw at least 4 bedrooms.

“Yeah, but I kicked them out tonight,” he says before eyeing you up and down “I want to take my time with you”

Your skin instantly heated up at his bold words. The kind man who had smiled and welcomed you into his house might have been a fox.

“I've only ever done this once before, and I'm not really sure if I’ll be any good,” you say, unable to hold his eye contact.

“Its ok baby; I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he says softly “You wanna sit closer so I can see your pretty face?” He says it gently.

You scoot closer so that your thighs are touching. “There's my girl,” he says, and you can feel your heart rate pick up at the praise. He doesn’t look away from you once; his piercing stare makes you feel shy.

Your eyes are glued to your hands, folded politely in your lap, and when he reaches out to intertwine his with yours, you wonder if he can feel the way your hands tremble in his grasp.

“Are you scared? Why are you shaking baby?” he asks sweetly, using his other hand to caress your cheek soothingly. “Don’t be afraid, baby we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do” He strokes your face for a bit longer before lightly gripping your chin and pulling you to finally face him “Do you want to do this, baby? Let me hear your pretty voice”

His compliments twist at your heart again, and it feels like you’re under his spell. He spoke to you in a way that was sweet like honey; it made you want to comply with everything he asked of you.

He smiles at the dopey look on your face when he calls you pretty “You like it when I talk to you like that? Hmm pretty?” Still not brave enough to take a full sip from you without your permission, he pecks the corner of your mouth. "You have to answer me, or we can't have fun."

You nod lazily, and you try to chase his lips when he pulls away.

he pulls back "words," and his eyes look glazed over as he stares at your lips.

“Yes, I want this,” you whisper breathlessly

He kisses you gently, barely allowing you to savor his taste, before he pulls away again. “Let's take it slow, ok? I got you; just follow my lead,” he says, inches away from your mouth. You nod impatiently and surge forward again, claiming his lips against yours.

You were really eager; you didn't realize how touch-starved you were until tonight. You were pressed heavily against his side as you worked your lips over his. It was a very sloppy kiss, but you loved every second of it. His lips were so soft, you couldn't help but groan against them.

You felt a rough hand against your sternum until it traced up towards your neck. His finger tips barely grazed the skin of your neck. He caressed you there for a moment before his grip turned firm, and he pushed you back just enough to get your attention. You whine in disappointment, and he kisses the pout on your lips.

“I said slow, baby I’m not going anywhere,” he says softly. He tries to keep things light so you don't become discouraged. “You taste so good; I want to savor it,” he soothes with praise.

He spoke in a way that made your stomach do backflips. You nod and take a deep breath. You wait patiently for him to lean in and allow him to take the lead. He kisses you slowly and sensually. You can fully understand what he meant earlier when he said he wanted to savor it. There was something about his slow, almost lazy kisses that had you gripping his thigh. He slips his tongue inside your mouth and strokes against yours. You gently suck on his tongue, matching his energy. When he pulls away, you have trouble catching your breath.

“like that, ok? you try now”

You lean in and kiss him, copying all the things he did to you before pulling away.

Your eyes were completely glazed over at this point. Your body was loose, all tension from before evaporating. His kisses were like liquor.

“Good baby,” he says.

You were ready for more, so you sank off the couch until you were situated between his legs. He doesn't say a word while you buckle his belt, holding your eye contact as you discard it to the side. He helps you by pulling his pants down his thighs before pulling himself out of his briefs. He stood in front of you completely hard, and your heart feels light.

You did it! He was hard, and all you did was kiss. first obstacle overcome! You smile dopely at him, and he returns the look with a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

“What are you so happy for, baby? Want it that bad?” He says this, stroking himself languidly.

With your new-found confidence, you shoo his hand away and grip the base.

step one… firm grip

step two… pump and suck

or was it suck then pump?

You tried to remember the articles you had read, but it was like your brain was short-circuiting.

“Relax, baby, don't think about it.” He pats the top of your head soothingly “Open your mouth,” he guides. You do as he says and wait for the next command, “stick your tongue out”

You stick out your tongue and slap the length lightly against your fat tongue before pulling it off and licking from the base to the tip again.

You lick at the underside of his tip before kissing it. “Is this ok?” you ask shakily. From the way his breath picks up slightly, you suppose your off to a good start.

"Baby, you are doing so good for me. "Just like I taught you, take it slow," he says, panting a little.

You give him a nod, then glance back at his lovely pink tip. You suck on the tip experimentally, being extra cautious of your teeth. When you pulled up, you massaged the head with your tongue. You get comfortable, and soon your ready to take more. You slip down further on his length and stroke what you cannot fit in your mouth. His cock had a slight curve to it, and you were hesitant to go deeper. You didn't account for that with the straight popsicles you would suck. You stay within your comfort zone and work him as best you can. You start twisting your wrist at his base, and when you come up for air, you drag your hand up, chasing your mouth, to twist your wrist at his tip. This causes him to let out a moan.

“Just like that, baby, you’re doing so good”

The praise goes to your head, and before you can second-guess yourself, you suck one of his balls gently into your mouth. the way his hips jerk up suddenly scares you. you think you did something wrong but he immediately encouraged you.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby; im close”

You kiss your way back up the shaft until you take it back into your mouth. you moan around his length and he shudders.

“That's right, baby, almost there,” he says, his voice thick with arousal. You feel his hand at the back of your neck as it gently guides you up and down. “do you trust me?” he asks

You nod subtly, trying not to scrape him with your teeth. “Breathe in deep,” he tells you as he lifts you off his length.

You take a deep breath, and you know what is coming. You practiced for this. You were ready.

He guides you back down his length. Slowly sinking you down, forcing you to take more of him as he hits the back of your throat. Your eyes tear up immediately, and your hands move to grip at his thighs. Your nose is tucked into his abdomen as you deep-throat him.

Yes! You were doing it! This wasnt so-

You cough violently after a few seconds of having him down your throat, and he pulls you up immediately. You catch your breath, trying to contain your harsh coughing fit. Renjun is stroking himself in front of you, and you open your mouth again, letting him stroke over your tongue.

Without warning, he finishes all over your lips and face. You lick at your lips, tasting the mess. It tasted salty and bitter

It was a long day; you didn't have any courses today, but you'd just finished a lengthy shift and wanted to relax. Soft music fills your home while you give yourself the princess treatment. You really needed to relax, so you lit a few candles.

When you get home, you take a hot bath. You had filled the tub with bubbles, which reached your neck as you sank down into it.

Only when there was a knock did you realize there was a body in the doorway. You nearly leap out of your skin, only to discover it was Chenle.

“What are you doing in my house” you heave in a breath, trying to calm your heart.

With a playful hop onto your countertop, he mocks you, "Spare key." You feel at ease in his company despite being nude; Chenle was more like a brother to you. The bubbles were pretty dense, so you doubted he could see anything. “Had to do a welfare check; you werent texting back in the groupchat”

“I've been busy,” you say hesitantly. You hadnt told your friends about your escapades. You were too nervous, and you definitely knew they wouldn't like the idea of you meeting up with strangers in the middle of the night.

“Your hiding something,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you

"Well, I am in the middle of taking a bath,” you joke.

“Not what I mean,” he says, rolling his eyes “what have you been up to, you sneak”

You gave a deep, heavy sigh. Lele was the kind of person who would dig until he found the truth, so it was best to just tell him. You spare the two of you the hassle.

“I took your advice.”

“My advice?”

“Yeah, on practicing... you said I should practice if I wanted to get better.”

“I was wondering why you had three twelve packs of bombpops in your freezer” Lele tilted his head with a nod.

“So I did, and... I hooked up with someone” You sink further into the tub until only your eyes are visible above the bubbles.

“Tell me everything; I want every detail.” A Cheshire grin spreads across his face as he smiles at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

Honestly, you have been dying to talk to someone about this. You tell him how you met Renjun through Tinder, how sweet he was, and how comfortable he made you. Chenle is leaning forward, nodding along with everything you say, fully immersed in your story. It wasn't until you finished that he let out a shocked chuckle.

"Wow, baby bird has finally left the nest,” he jokes, “so whats next? You're going to keep seeing this guy?”

You liked Renjun, but you weren't ready for a relationship just yet, especially after only swallowing his dick. You aren't done with your expirations yet. You still had to find your other test subjects. You reasoned that including a variable would help you assess how much you were progressing and if you were truly improving. Renjun was nice, but it was almost time for someone new.

“Maybe. I dont know. Im not really ready for a relationship”

“Are you just looking for something fun?”

Precisely

Although he told you a thousand times that you did an amazing job, you still weren't satisfied. You could hardly take him down your throat. You would need more practice if you were going to be able to take on something bigger one day.

You had been training your gag reflex lately; this would decide if you were ready to move on to the next stage. You had looked up somewhere that practicing on a banana might get you used to the natural curve of a penis, but when it broke off into your throat and you almost choked on it, you decided to play it safe and stick to your ice pops. At least those would melt before you choked and died. You could stand proud the next time you see Renjun.

He buzzed you up like last time, and your steps were a little lighter as you bound up his stairs for the second time.

“Hey pretty, are you ready for another lesson?”

This time, as he brings you in, he takes you directly to his bedroom. You get a little nervous; you weren't ready for that yet. He notices your tense shoulder and laughs softly. “Calm down; we’re not doing anything like that. I just wanted you to be comfortable,” he explains

You relax and follow him as he crawls into his bed. His room was very... Renjun, or at least what you thought Renjun to be like. Ambient mood lighting casts a gentle golden glow throughout his space. He was very clean and ordered, and his room had an overall calm and cozy vibe to it.

He got comfortable against his headboard, and as you positioned yourself in between his legs on your stomach. His bed sheets smelled like fresh laundry, and it was like you were lying on a cloud. You prop yourself up on your elbows and begin working. You are grateful that things with Renjun were strictly business. You hated small talk, and this dynamic would make things less awkward in the long run. You reach forward and are about to pull him out of his shorts when he stops your wrists short.

“You gotta work me up, baby, not yet,” he explains.

Slow, steady, and sensual. That's how Renjun liked to move. You were getting better at understanding him. He liked it slow, and he liked it when you teased him.

You trailed your hand up and down his thighs; he was only in some sleep shorts, so you teasingly trailed your hand under the fabric and stroked high on his skin. You pushed up the other leg of his shorts as you laid hot kisses against the skin there. You kissed up his thigh and over his bulge that was starting to strain against his shorts. He was bare under, and just the thought alone had your mouth watering. You had to remind yourself to take it slow.

You trail your hand even higher under the fabric of his shorts until you softly grip his length. You kiss him through the fabric as you softly stroke his hard cock. It was right in front of you, and he was refusing you. You had to squeeze your thighs together as you pictured the way you would finally get to shove his cock down your throat. Your grip tightens at the thought, and his soft moans that now flow from his lips tell you that he's ready for more.

You finally slip him out of his shorts and take him into your mouth. You rest the tip against your tongue as you lazily lick him up. You hold his eye contact as you take more and more of him into your mouth. You hum around him in pleasure as his face twists in pleasure.

"Fuck, mmm so pretty. so fucking pretty with your mouth full,” he moans "I could watch you all day, just like that baby, just like that”

You could feel that familiar sense clouding your head; you were sinking again. Your thoughts traveled to that special place, and his words alone made you feel drunk.

Fuck going slow; you needed him down your throat. You pull up to take a deep breath in through your nose and sink down on him again. You take all of him and settle at his base. You look up at him from your position, and you can see his mouth drop open in a silent moan.

He heaves a breath and grips the sheets as you slurp loudly on your way up. You work at his base with a tight fist before sinking back down again. You repeat the motion a few times before you feel his hands collecting your hair up into a ponytail. He uses the makeshift ponytail as a handle to guide you up and down his length. The next time you come down, he holds you still for a few seconds, and you can feel his hips shyly cant up, fucking your throat. You cough hard and smack at his thigh for air. He draws you up, and your wet, tearful eyes meet his. However, a fox returned the stare. The fox he had hidden beneath his sheep's skin was finally showing his teeth.

“Back down, baby, we're going to make you learn tonight,” he says “Open your mouth”

You obey, and he grips your jaw with one hand while the other brushes his length on your lips before lowering you flush against his pelvis. “Come on, take it. Its all yours pretty,” he grunts, fucking your face until he feels your throat tighten again and he pulls you up. “Breathe, come on, baby we got to get that throat fucked out”

And your down again. He pulls you up and holds your head in place as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth and over your tongue. “Hands off, I got you," was another command.

You snake one of your hands down your front as he uses your throat for his own pleasure. He was so deep down your throat that you never wanted him to pull out. You circle your clit a few times as you get lost in your own pleasure.

“Almost there, look at me,” he cries as his hips begin to stutter so close to release. He brings you down again, and his thighs shake. He was about to pull you up, no doubt to finish on your face, but you refused to pull off. You force him to cum deep down your throat.

You pull off swallowing quickly before you start coughing again. You help him ride it out with a few weak pumps of his cock. You watch him catch his breath as he looks at you with nothing but disbelief in his eyes.

“How was that? Was that okay? Was I going to fast-”

He sits up and pushes you back onto the bed. He kisses you deeply and moans at the lingering taste of himself on your tongue.

“How about I show you?” He kisses down your body over your clothes until hes settled between your legs. “Let me show you how that felt, please. Let me make you feel good,” he begs

The look he gives you makes you ruin your panties all over again. You had never had anyone touch you like that before but you trusted him.

“Show me”

You conquered the blowjob and then the blowjob conquered you. After passing out in his room, you snuck out the next morning before his roommates woke up. You didn't plan on seeing him again after this and that left you feeling a bit down. There was no time to dwell on it, though. It made you wonder if Renjun was correct in saying you were moving too fast, since after two positive experiences, you were already thinking about exploring further.

Who would be your next target?

RIDING

Renjun was right. Renjun was 100% right. You needed to slow down.

You wanted to move things along; you were eager to learn more about your own body, so you opted to start small. Well, as little as a 7-inch dildo could be. Although you had never used a toy like this before, you were no stranger to an orgasm. You definitely made yourself come before but you used some shoddy vibrator you got when you were 18 from the back of some edgey store in the mall that had a small adult section.

You had ordered this toy offline and didn't think it would be as big as it was until you got it in the mail. It wasn't super grithy but the stretch still scared you. Maybe you should have listened to the online forums and started small with 4 inches but at the time, 4 inches didn't sound like a lot. That was less than a five-dollar footlong at subway and you were always still hungry after eating one of those. No matter how much lube you used, no matter how aroused you were, you couldn't take it. You will have to try again later.

You had effectively scared yourself back into a corner. You decided to take a break from your “studies” and focus on school and work. Maybe you just weren't ready to leave your comfort zone yet.

Your life returns to normal for a bit; you work, come home, then sleep. You wake up early for class, go to work, then come home and sleep. You wake up early for class, go out with your friends, come home, and then sleep. It was a constant rinse and repeat of the same things. You had hobbies but none of them were as interesting as the one thing plaguing your mind recently.

You needed dick, bad.

Against your better judgement, you eventually hit Renjun up again and you guys meet up a few more times. He'd come over to your house the last few times because he complained about not being able to get his roommates out of the house. You loved pleasing Renjun and he loved pleasing you but his tongue and fingers weren't enough for your greedy pussy anymore. You needed more.

You lay in bed one night after Renjun left, having finished another session with you and even though he had made you cum your pussy was still throbbing for more. You knew if you had asked, he would have given it to you, but you wanted to investigate on your own and conduct your own research before diving headfirst into something like that.

You reach down into your soaked panties and rub at your clit lazily. You squeeze your legs together as your pussy clamps down around nothing. You try to mimic the way Renjun had his fingers shoved knuckles deep in you earlier; you trace at your slit and work in a finger curling it the same way he did. It wasn't enough. You add another one and work yourself up, pumping your fingers pathetically inside and grinding the palm of your hand against your clit. It still wasn't enough, and even adding a third finger still didn't satisfy you. You needed something bigger. You shudder at the thought but pull your fingers out of your dripping cunt. You reach under your bed for your box and set it on your bed before pulling out your new toy.

“Take it slow; just like I taught you,” you repeat his words to yourself.

You line the toy up to your entrance and coat it in your juices. Your about to push it inside when you decide to play it safe and add more lube. Now that the toy is fully coated, you can get comfortable on your back and ease it inside. Your a lot more relaxed this time than when you first tried. Renjun had already made you cum earlier, and you thank him for his services. You slid the tip in and took more and more until it was at least 2/3 inside. You didn't particularly like the rubbery feel of the dildo; you bet Renjun would feel better nuzzled deep inside you. You imagine him inside of you and its like your body opens up and your able to take the rest.

You kick your legs open further, spreading them wider. You don't move for a few seconds, getting used to something being this deep inside of you. You found it hard to pull the toy out, your insatiable core clamping down tight onto it. Your able to find a small, shallow rhythm, barely able to pull it out, your back arching as you fuck yourself. You wriggle as you shove the toy in farther—suddenly, seven inches was not enough. Deeper, that is what you wanted. You would need to find something bigger. You grow close but you can't quite take yourself over the edge. You reached down with your free hand and rubbed at your clit. Your essence coats the toy as you topple over and spill all over it. Your bones are tired and you pray that you can wake up on time in the morning. You drag yourself to the bathroom, clean yourself up, and know that when you finally crawl into bed, you will sleep through all of your alarms.

You spend the following few days getting to know your body. You eventually part with your old toy and get a new vibrator—you choose a wand. Toys are expensive; you had no idea till you went shopping for them. There were a ton of beautiful ones. You ordered a gorgeous pink glass one, for which you were really excited.

The sensation of having something tucked away deep inside you had grown on you, but you still craved more. You could never get over the fact that you were fucking a toy, no matter how lifelike it seemed. You were getting off to plastic when you had already had the real thing at your fingertips once. You were ready for more.

Swiping. You swiped all day long, but no one genuinely intriguing drew your attention. You came to the realization that Renjun was a true blessing. Just as you were about to give up, a promising-looking message appeared on your phone.

The most gorgeous lips you had ever seen were the first thing you noticed. You knew right away that you needed them all over your body; they looked so soft. Although his profile picture was basic, it did not matter because his face was the main attraction. He had very dear-like features and you noticed the moles that dotted his tan skin. Haechan was definitely someone you wanted to get to know.

“I think theres something wrong with my phone”

“???”

“Your number’s not in it”

"Cornball, your getting blocked.”

“Give me a chance!”

His face demanded that you at least give him a chance to speak, and you did. After talking to him for a minute longer, he was charming. You noticed his quick wit and that immediately drew you to him. He was different from Renjun. He was cocky but not in an arrogant way. He had confidence and thats exactly what you needed. You needed someone to talk you through it and teach you how they liked it and haechan seemed like the guy. You give him the same speech you gave Renjun, about you being inexperienced and looking for someone to learn from. Someone to study. You tell him what you want to improve on, and he texts back shortly after

“I’ll have you riding like a pro in no time, trust me”

You trusted him.

He was late and you were growing impatient. You were waiting patiently in your living room for a text from haechan. He was supposed to be coming over tonight; normally, you prefer going to them because you really dont like letting strangers know where you live but it turns out he went to the same university as you so that made you feel a tad bit better. You had dressed in something simple but effective: your favorite lace camI and matching silk shorts. You even took the time to prep yourself before he got there. On the bright side, if he didn't show up, you could finally try out the pink glass dildo that came in the mail a few days ago. A knock at the door shakes you from your thoughts.

Although you were just complaining, now that he's here, you start to get a bit nervous. This was the first time you would be having penetrative sex with anyone. You shuffle over to the door in your house shoes and look through your peep hole. Messy black hair was peeking out from under a hoodie as the figure in front of your door scrolled through their phone. You tentatively open your door, not taking the chain off until you can clearly see his face. He looks up at the sound of the door opening and sends you a grin.

“I don’t bite”

“Thats exactly what someone who bites would say”

“Then you would be right”

You shut the door and take the chain off the hook before opening it fully again and letting him in.

He eyes you up and down, drinking in your figure. You do the same and under the light of your living room, you see him in all his glory. You send a quick prayer up to the tinder gods for blessing you again. He was dressed in grey sweats with a black hoodie pulled over his head but boy was he handsome. You take a daring step forward and push the hoodie off his head before wrapping your arms around his neck. Long black bangs fall into his eyes and the way he pears down at you through them has your legs feeling weak already.

“You gonna be mine for tonight?” he asks sultry

“Just for tonight?” he licks his lips at that.

“Your right, gotta teach you how to fuck me.”

“That could take a while,” you tease.

“Use me for how ever long you need, I’m all yours,” he says

You pull him down, claiming his lips with yours. You pull his hoodie up and he pulls it the rest of the way off before his hands are creeping up your sides.

In all the ways Renjun poured over you, slow and thick, engulfing you whole like honey, Haechan was brisk and jagged, pulling you every which way rapidly like a river as he flowed through you.

You tried to use what Renjun taught you but that wasn't going to fly with Haechan. You had to learn to adapt to Haechan. He didn't like it slow; he liked to move at a quick pace. If you pull away, he is on you, chasing your lips for another taste. If you stumble back, he's gripping you tight and pulling you closer. Haechan had almost a desperate kind of love.

You’re finally able to peel off of him and catch your breath and he wastes no time in moving down your body to your neck, kissing and leaving marks for you to find in the morning. His hands slide down your back and grip your ass. He kneads your plush ass before pulling you closer, your front flush to his. He had backed you up into a wall at this point and you suddenly felt him nudge his leg between yours.

"Are you ready for your first lesson?” He says that as he moves one hand back to your hip, he uses his grip to pull you over his thigh. He grinds you down into the muscle and you shudder at the feeling. ”Just like that baby, that's it.”

You follow his lead and weakly grind your hips into his thick thighs. You could feel everything between the thin fabric of your silk shorts, the fabric dampening at the front and the cold press of the cloth against your clit makes you shiver.

“Like you mean it, come on,” he coos

You pout but grind down harder. You were looking for that praise that Renjun gave you so easily; Haechan was going to make you work for it.

“There we go bear, just like that, thats my girl,” he says, helping you along until you whine for more. You needed more; you loved his thighs but you brought him here to learn how to ride a dick.

"Ready for you to bite," you declare, rolling your hips with assurance.

He tilts his head with a scoff, tongue in cheek. "Suddenly, you can handle it?”

You reach out and pull him to your lips again to shut him up. He continues to grind you down until a patch of your wetness forms against his thigh, until your hips tire and your legs shake.

He can feel your movements grow weaker and he nudges your forehead with his when you drop your head.

“Not so tough are we baby? Gotta work on that stamina,” he grins devishly. you send him a fleeting glare. Oh, he was going to work you out. “fix your face; you asked for this, you wanna learn; you better listen”

You want to argue back but all you can do is slump against his thigh and throw your head back against the wall to catch your breath. Haechan pulls away from you and has to catch you before your legs give out from under you. He leads you over to your couch and sits down. legs spread wide, sitting you on his lap. You straddle his waist and your thighs cramp up.

You groan out and move off to spread your legs out over his thighs, sitting on the couch instead. He snickers at you but works the kink out of your thighs.

"Are you ready to listen now?” he asks and you nod shamfully. “It may look easy but it takes a lot of stamina to ride. You gotta pace yourself, baby.”

You nod and let out a yawn. He had already tired you out and you hadn't even started.

“Don't tap out on me yet; come on just a little more and I'll let you rest,” he urges you back on top of him after properly easing out the tension on your thighs. You reluctantly get back on top and relax into his hold. With a mischievous grin, he sits you squarely on top of his bulge.

“If you can hold out long enough to make me cum, next time I'll let you ride it,” he says, kissing your lips before leaning back against the couch, waiting for your next move. You whine and try to lean forward against his chest. You were tired and if you were going to do this, you needed a clutch but he could see right through you.

“Nu-uh, sit up; you got this.”

You send him a frown but you start to move your hips none the less. You find a rhythm and pace yourself like he instructed. His hands rest on your hips uselessly, making you do all the work. You brace one hand on his shoulder and the other on his knee as you roll your hips into his. He felt so good pressed up against your center. His eyes were hidden behind his bangs and the sight of him leaning up against the sofa, his head resting confidently on the back of the couch, while a lazy smile played at his lips was making you dizzy. You swivel your hips and his breath picks up. You think he's close with the way he grips your hips loosely now. He's biting his lip, urging you to ride faster and push past the pace you set for yourself. He bounces you in his lap shallowly as he fucks up into you.

He has to be so close. He has to be because your thighs are starting to feel that familiar but unfamiliar burn as you lose your momentum again.

“Don't stop, fuck,” he groans.

He was close; you could see it in the way his back arched off the couch slightly, his breath hitched and his eyebrows pinched, but he didn't finish because you collapsed before he could.

Your breathing is heavy. your heaving chest from exhaustion against his heaving chest from exasperation. You had just unknowingly edged him.

“I cant, please,” you cry.

He strokes your back soothingly “You did great today, baby. We have all the time in the world for you to get it right,” he reassures.

and you feel better because he was right

You didn't expect Haechan to take his job so seriously. He was committed to having you ride like a pro by the end of the month at the latest. He sent you exercises to help you build stamina and strength while on top. You did your own research as well and found some good stretches to try because you did not want to cramp up again. You did plenty of at-home exercises and you were feeling really good about your improvements.

You didn't expect the large package that arrived at your door one evening. You surely don't remember ordering anything and when you pull it inside and open the box, your pleasantly surprised. Inside the box sat a teddy bear. The box could barely contain the bear and when you struggled to pull it out, you understood why. The bear was at least 5 feet tall when you laid it out. Deep inside the bottom of the box lies a single card.

For practice <3

—sunny boy

You roll your eyes and dial “sunny boy.” The phone rings and then a voice answers. “Did you get your present?”

“You cant be serious; this thing must have cost a fortune! I appreciate the enthusiasm but you really dont have to do this”

“Friends help friends”

“Do you not get pussy or something?”

“Wierd way of saying thanks but your welcome. Besides, I promised you I’d have you riding in no time,” he says over the line, “FaceTime me; I need to judge your progress”

“Sure you do, pervert”

You send over the FaceTime request and soon you’re looking at the top half of Haechan's face in what you assume to be his bedroom? Aside from his forhead being lit by his phone's light, it was too dark for you to see anything.

“Let me see your pretty face,” you coo

He whines and shifts the camera down more. He was so pretty and you would never get tired of looking at his face. You wish he would stop hiding from you.

“Enough talking, let's see what you got” Straight forward as always. Oh, how you adore him.

"Ok, hold up” You put him in your pocket as you haul the giant teddy to your room and drag it up into your bed. You spend the next few minutes setting up your phone and getting the right angle. You were wearing boy shorts and a tank top, which was nearly identical to what you had on when you first met him.

You suddenly feel shy under the gaze of the camera. You had the front camera facing you so you could still see haechans face and you mounted the teddy and you imagined it was him there under you. You hold his gaze through the lens as you grind down into the toy firmly. You roll your hips sharply and suck in a breath. He watches you intently; you see him rustling about on the screen; you could only imagine what he was doing.

You never thought you could be the dominant type, but when you rode, something clicked, and you loved it. You loved being in control. It felt good to be in charge every once in a while. It was all about you when you were riding.

Your hands travel up the teddy until they wrap around the bear's neck. You held it down in place as you rode it, taking it slow, saving your energy like he taught you. There was no rush when you rode; you controlled the pace. You could hear Haechans muffled moans through the phone and it made your ride a little rougher. Your eyes glaze over as you picture your hands around his pretty neck. You wonder if he would make those pretty noises for you or if he would hide them. Your hips don't stop for a second and you whine at the lack of heat against your skin. Nothing was more satisfying than feeling Haechan's warm body against yours and inhaling his scent. The thought alone had you sticking to your shorts.

“Show me what your doing,” You dont know what overcame you; you could barely recognize the person who spoke those words, even though they came out of your mouth.

A delicious moan tumbles from his lips as he angles his camera down to show his hand working furiously over himself. He angles it so far down that his face is no longer visible, and you instantly miss the sight of his plump lips trapped between his teeth. “Let me see you, baby. All of you”

He tilts the camera back up and the dazed look he sends you has you clenching around nothing. The way his hips thrust into his palm pathetically has you curling over the stuffed animal as you fuck into it repeatedly. Haechan's head falls back as his mouth hangs open in heavy breaths. He finishes over himself with a shudder. You watch him, sitting up a little straighter and slowing down your hips as you catch your breath.

“How was that?” you ask with a smirk

“5 stars”

You were in a good mood, and nothing could stop the excited skip in your step as you walked. Even your friends took notice of your happy demeanor; they didn’t know what had gotten into you but they hoped it was dick. Well, Lele knew and honestly, you were surprised he hadn't gone mouthing off to the others.

You are out running errands with Yuna when you get a call from him. You pick up the call in the middle of the grocery store, following behind Yuna and her buggy.

“Are you ready to hear the best news of your life?” he starts when you answer

You put him on speaker, nudging Yuna to pay attention. She raises a brow, asking who it is without saying a word. "Lele,” you mouth.

“I'm scared,” you finally reply to him. You were in the pet supplies aisle and luckily no one was around. You never knew what could come out of this man's mouth.

“I got you a date with that cute cashier; turns out he's Jisung’s cousin!”

Yuna sends you a shocked look. She grabs the phone from you excitedly “are you talking about the guy who checked us out last week at that thrift store?” she gushes

You and a couple of your friends went thrifting last week, and when it came time to pay, the cutest guy was there to cash you out. You remember looking at his name tag and remembering his name was Mark. Your friends swore he was checking you out, but you ignored them all. The poor guy was probably just trying to do his job, so you left without asking for his phone number.

“Yuna? Are you guys out right now? No invite, wow,” you hear him pouting on the other line

“You want to help Yuna put up twenty bags of groceries? Be my guest,” you complain.

Yuna hated going shopping alone, and choosing who to drag out shopping with her next was like playing Russian roulette.

“Dont change the subject!”

“What? but you did—”

“I gave mark your number and he said he was going to text you so be on the look out!”

You want to be happy. Mark was really cute and he looked so sweet but you still had a hard time connecting with people like that. Before you could answer, Yuna beat you too it.

“Dont worry, I'll be on the look out”

Chenle says something about being late and that he would call later for updates before ending the call. Just when you were giving him props, you should have known he was up to something.

"So, mark huh?” Yuna coos

“I dont know, Yuna, its been awhile since Ive been on a date; i’m really not looking for a relationship right now,” you groan. Your head was spinning with the news. You had a thousand things going through your mind. More stress was not what you needed. You definitely didn't have any time for anyone right now with your studies (not the academic kind) going on.

“Oh please, this iexactlyly what you need! Who said anything about a relationship? Why not just have some fun?”

Funny, it was like those words that started all of this.

You and Mark have been texting on and off for a few days now. He was one of the most down-to-earth people you had ever met, and you had even visited him at work, feigning looking for some scrap fabric for a project for class. You guys had gone on that date that he promised and ever since then, you have grown close with Mark. You wanted to grow closer to him so close that his body was on top of yours.

You weren't ready yet, though; you still had a few things you wanted to learn. You did end up going on a few more dates with him and one night after a few drinks, things got a little handsy. Nothing explicit happened and ultimately you told him you weren't looking for anything serious at the time. He took it surprisingly well and you two have been chill since. He has broached the topic of friends with benefits with you and you had told him you would be down but you haven't brought it up since. You need more time. When you finally have Mark, you want to give him everything and more. You need everything to be perfect.

You would not mess this up, not again.

Haechan was coming over and you were excited that you could finally take him for a test run. You would think you were training for a marathon rather than sex the way he was training you. Unlike last time, he got there perfectly on time. You had made sure to stretch before hand and when he walked through your door, you could barely get a “hi” in before he was picking you up and wrapping your legs around him.

“I've been waiting for you,” he mumbles, his lips pressed against yours. He kicks your door closed and pins you up against it.

“Let me make it worth your while then,” you call back and wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Haechan's kisses make you feel like you were drowning; he stole your breath like water replaces air in your lungs. It was like how waves rocked you peacefully in their embrace until you realized you needed to come up for air. You never wanted to come up for air.

Soon you were on your back, spread out in your bed with him on top of you. His hands were everywhere and he finally took pity on you and pulled away, letting fresh air fill your burning lungs. His kisses move to your neck as skilled hands undress you. You were getting lost in his touch and when you felt your mind slip into that place you sometimes went, that submissive headspace, you knew you had to snap out of it. Tonight was supposed to be your rodeo, not his. You were almost completely naked, save for your panties and he was still fully clothed. You raise yourself onto your elbows, watching him as he kisses you down your body. He kisses your navel before peeking up at you. You grab hold of his hair, pulling him back up to reconnect your lips. You use your lips to distract him before you push him down and flip your positions.

You straddle his waist and brace yourself on his chest. You smile in victory but all Haechan does is adjust the pillow behind his head before resting his hands beneath it. That stubborn smirk—let's see how long it takes you to whip that grin off his face.

“Im ready when you are sweetheart”

The first roll off your hips speaks for itself. Slow and firm. You wanted to make him feel it. You can feel him pressing heavily through the fabric of his sweats and you can feel yourself clenching at the thought of him filling you up later. You grind your clothed pussy against him, gripping his shirt in your fist as you work your hips over top of him. The smirk falters a bit as he huffs out a breathy sigh. He's good at taking what you give him; he just lies there and lets you use him, just like you used the stuffed animal he gave you.

“How am I doing so far?”

“So good,” he says off-handedly, more focused on the way your hips move. You smiled; it was time to give him more.

You slid off of him and he groans at the loss of heat. You help him out of his clothes and he lies before you naked. Your eyes examine his body and you moan at the sight of him. His dick was almost as pretty as his face. You had enough waiting; you wanted him inside. You mount his hips again and line him up with your entrance, coating the tip in your slick.

“Keep your hands right there; I don't need your help.” You instruct him to keep his hands gripped in the sheets. You wanted to show him you could ride it all by yourself.

“Fuck me,” he moans impatiently, his hips pushing up slightly, trying to slip through your folds.

"Are you sure there are no other tips you want to give me?” you tease

“I'm trying to give you mine if you would sit down,” he groans.

You grab the base of his length and sink down on top of him. You were so wet, he slipped in easily. You were flush against him—hips against hips. You had to take a few moments to collect your thoughts. He felt so good inside of you. You had never felt so full before; no toy could ever match the feeling of having Haechan stuffed inside of you. You were going to use him until he broke. You steady yourself over his chest again and lift your hips slowly, savoring the drag of him against your walls. You look into his eyes and his brows furrow at the feeling. You drop back down on him harshly. Your thighs tingled in the pleasure but they didn't burn; the exercises had paid off. You set a brutal pace on top of him as you use him. You had practically forgotten he was even there for a second until his loud moans filled the room. You had grabbed a hold of his cheeks, pushing his face into the pillow. You felt an upkick at your hips and you looked down to see his hips thrusting up into yours. You caught his rhythm and matched his pace, giving him everything he gave you in return. You let up on him and gave him space to breathe. His hands are at your waist the next moment and he's gripping tight, helping you fuck onto him.

“Don't stop, please. Let me do this; I need it,” he begs before his feet are planted on the bed and he's using all his force to pound into you from below. Your mouth drops open and you have to brace yourself on his chest again so you don't fall off. Your hands slip up a little farther and they encompass his neck beautifully. He lay under you, moans tumbling out of his mouth, his hair messy on his forehead, his tan skin damp with sweat and when your hands grip his neck, you think the image it creates against him should be a painting.

Your eyes daze and your mind slips but this time you don't go to that place that makes you want to give everything up to your last breath. This place is different. This place makes you feel bold and makes you want to take and take until Haechan trembles. This place makes you feel powerful.

“Fu-fuck baby, please,” he gasps, his eyes rolling to the back of his head breathlessly “Give it to me; fucking use me. Hurt me,” he whimpers the last part. You completely snapped. You don't know who you are; you don't know what this headspace is but it craves the tears that fall down Haechan's face pathetically.

“Hold still,” you say, pushing at his knees and motioning for him to lay back down flat. You wanted complete control. Your grip tightens and your hips roll sharply over his. So deep, everything feels so much; you feel everything at once and you’re certain your soaking Haechan’s lap. Only now do your thighs burn but now the ache adds to the pleasure. Your so focused on your own pleasure that your grip loosens and as the air rushes back into Haechan's lungs, he feels a high like no other and his orgasm crashes into him. His thighs shake and he orgasms deep inside of you. After a few more harsh flicks of your hips, you cum hard, sending a shiver down your spine.

You had previously discussed it because he would be the first person you would have inside of you. You had already been on birth control for some time and you had both been checked. You wanted to stay protected. Your not sure if he took your virginity or if you took his with how dazed he looked under you.

"Look who couldn't handle it” you brag smugly.

“Of course, your amazing. I taught you.”

“So you like being used? You smile, lying down next to him to catch your breath “intersting”

“Don't push your luck; I'll still fuck you better. Make you forget your name.” you core clenches at the thought and you remind yourself to take him up on that eventually

You pack your things, signaling the end of your English lecture. You exit the class with a yawn, having almost fallen asleep during the last half of the class. your walking across campus when you hear a voice call your name. You see Mark a few yards behind you. It turns out Mark also attended your college but only part time so you rarely saw him on campus. You return his smile and you are about to walk over to him when you see another figure moving towards you.

Renjun? you hadnt seen him in awhile; you had been keeping it casual with him. He goes here too?? Just when you think it can't get any worse, Haechan rounds a corner and spots you too. You had ghosted him after the last time you two hooked up. you did not want to confront him right now.

There is absolutely no way you just ran into all your hoes at the same time.

You turn around and flee the scene before anyone can approach you further. You’re speed-walking in the opposite direction now when you run into Chenle and Yuna. “Ask questions later for now, run!” you say, pulling them along.

You don't stop dragging them until you make it to your car. Safe and sound inside, you lock the door and catch your breath. “What the hell was that about you? You looked like you saw a ghost” Chenle tries to calm his breathing, adjusting his signiture shades back into place.

“Was it Mark? I thought I saw him over there. Did something happen between you two?” Yuna asks, letting the passenger seat fall back to lay down and settle her own breaths.

You wish there was something going on between you and Mark, but nothing has happened since the last time you saw him.

“No, not mark, it was something else…or someones else”

“someones?” she questions

You hated keeping things from your friends; you hadn't meant to keep it from them for this long but you had gotten so caught up in everything that you barely had the time to catch them up to speed. You explain everything. From Renjun to Haechan and to the new guy you recently found, Jaemin. You had moved study subjects already and you felt a little bad for ghosting Haechan like you did after all the effort he put into teaching you but with Mark as your end goal, you were really impatient to get to him.

The car is silent for a few moments, mainly from Yuna’s shock, before she finally decides to speak up. “How in the world did you go from being scared of the thought of dick to getting more dick than me?”

“That's what your worried about!”

“If you don’t want them, give them to me”

“YUNA!”

“Joking! I’m joking”

You feel a weight lifted from your shoulders now that you were able to tell Yuna how your life has really been going and what you’ve really been doing. Honeslty, you were getting really sick of replying with “nothing” anytime anyone would ask.

“Wait, why aren't you surprised” Yuna asks Chenle suspiciously.

oh my—

“You did not tell him before me!” Yuna narrows her eyes at you.

“She definitely did,” Chenle smiles.

“You traitor!”

“You know how he is! He practically threatened my family,” you say in defense.

You had no tint on your windows so to any onlookers, it probably looked like you guys were having a really heated argument. Everyone was talking at once and fingers were being pointed. The three of you continue to bicker until you hear a knock at your window and the car goes silent as everyone turns to look out the window.

Mark is standing outside your car nervously. “Is everything okay?” His muffled voice barely carries into the car. You roll your window down with a forced smile. This was perfect.

“How can I help you, officer?” You joke.

“I’m sorry, you just ran off earlier and I just wanted to, like, make sure you were ok.” he says, scratching at his face nervously.

“We’ll let you two talk,” Yuna says with a fake smile. Her and Chenle exit the car but not before she sends you a glare that says this isn't over.

After they left, you offered Mark a seat in your car. “Im sorry, I didn't like... interrupt. Did I?” he says awkwardly.

“Oh no, your fine. I’m sorry for earlier; I just realized I had forgotten something in my car. I needed it for my next class” You lie.

“Okay, thats good to hear. I thought you were like avoiding me for a second,” he laughs. “Your really cool and I don’t want what I said about being friends with benefits to ruin our relationship. We dont have to do anything if it makes you uncomfortable ”

“That's not it at all! I really like you, mark I've just been a little...busy lately. I like the idea of being friends with benefits. Just give me some more time. I can’t really explain now,” you say.

Out of all the conversations you wanted to avoid, this was definitely the one you wanted to avoid the most. You had no idea how to navigate this conversation. You wanted Mark so badly that it was driving you crazy but you just needed time. You were so close to the finish line that you couldn’t give up now.

“That’s cool, I get it.” He gives you a nod of understanding and he gets ready to leave, moving to open the door with a quick bye, probably needing to get to his next class. You wanted to leave him with something. You had to do something to hold you both over so you didn’t stop the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Before you go, can I have a kiss?” you ask sweetly. Mark just smiles at you and shakes his head fondly before leaning in and sealing your lips with his.

THE HANDJOB

It was probably a little too late in the game for you to be trying this but somehow your quick pecks turned into heavy petting. Now you had Mark’s dick in your hands. Mark was kissing hotly into your nouth as you stroked him slowly. You twist your hand at the base of his cock, focusing most of your attention there. After a few moments, you feel Mark’s hips shift and buck into your grasp. His hand joins yours and guides your hand higher.

“Don't tease. Please, I need you,” he breathes into your mouth.

When you sucked dick, your hand typically pumped the base. You would concentrate your attention on the areas that your mouth couldn’t reach. Without your mouth focused on the tip, you would have to make up for the lack of contact. You appreciate the information; every moment is a learning opportunity for you. Even now, you were able to gather data for your research.

You follow his lead and stroke the length of his length, twisting your wrist when you get to his tip. Mark's head falls back and rests against the headrest of the car. You pray no one's eyes wander to your small sedan because, from the faces Mark was pulling, they would no doubt know what was going on.

Mark's face scrunches up in pleasure and after a few more firm strokes over his cock, he cums. His seed pours messily over your fist. By the end of it, your arm was a little tired but it was definitely worth it.

He gives you a shy smile and apologizes. You reach over with your clean hand and get some napkins from your glove compartment. You assure him one last time that you definitely want to be more than just friends with him and that you will let him know when you’re ready. He left the car with a smile and your glad to have taken care of that because you were late to go meet Jaemin. There was still more you wanted to learn. There were more things you needed to experiment with.

SIZE

You had actually met Jaemin at a cafe. He sat at the table in front of you, glasses pushed up on his nose as he typed away at his computer. His white hair made him stand out and gave him a soft, rabbit-like appearance but there was something about his face that made him look devastly charming and boyish but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. He quickly stops typing and you notice that he is staring back at you. He sends you a smile and you return it awkwardly.

Fumbling the bag—I repeat, you are FUMBLING the bag.

You try your best to avoid his gaze again until you finish your own classwork and collect your things. Your leaving the cafe when you notice him in your peripheral vision, trying to get your attention. You thought he was going to tell you off for staring like some creep but he handed you his number instead. Fast forward; now you have a dick appointment.

After some talking and explaining, you give him your usual spiel. You were supposed to meet up with him today right after class but a few setbacks made you late. You finally arrive at the location he had specified, and you are immediately perplexed.

This was Renjun's apartment.

You walk up the familiar steps and hesitantly knock on the door. Your so used to Renjun opening the door that when Jaemin opens it, your slightly taken aback. What the hell was going on?

“Hey, come on in,” he says as you stand there stiff as a board. You shake yourself out of it and step through the door.

“I'm sorry I was late. Something came up,” you apologize.

“Its fine, my roomates are going to be out for the night so we have the house to ourselves for awhile,” he smiles at you. Just looking at that dazzling smile makes you forget about your internal dilemma.

You would worry about that later; tonight it was just you and this handsome stranger you met.

He leads you to his bedroom and you can't help but notice his room is directly across from Renjuns. You would definitely need a list of his roommates because you refused to find yourself in this situation again. The thought slips from your mind as Jaemin pulls you into his room and shuts the door.

“Are you okay, angel? You look a little shaken up?” he asks attentively.

"No, its ok, im just stressed about classes. I’m hoping you could help me relax?” you lie smoothly.

He gives you a sly smile and you hold your breath as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “You wont be able to think straight when I’m done with you”

You suck in a breath and your body completely opens up to him as his hands tentatively trail up your waist. He strokes your sides teasingly as he kisses the sides of your mouth before trailing his lips down your neck. His touch was light and soft, like you were a porcelain doll. You try to reach up and hold on to him but he just pulls away slightly and shakes his head.

"Nu-uh, baby hands to yourself until I say otherwise,” he corrects you.

You pout and open your mouth to protest but he grabs your face and holds you in his grasp. “Big girls don’t talk back. Fix your face,” he commands

You swallow nervously and nod your head. He kisses your lips once “Thats my girl”

He took his time mapping out your body with his hands. He was in no rush at all and you had to bite your tongue to hold back your whines. His hands gripped your ass, squeezed your hips, traced your spine and palmed your chest. He examined you with the same curiosity that a child does with a new toy or a scientist does with a new test subject. The tables had been turned. You weren't the one with the magnifying glass now; he was.

He helped you out of your clothes and you stood in front of him in only your underwear. He turns you away from him before pulling you back against him, your back to his chest. He hooks his chin over your shoulder and you can feel him bulging against his sweatpants. He was huge and the smirk you felt against your neck told you he knew how to use it. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought and when his hands return to your skin, you let out a moan. His hands spread out over your stomach; they were cold to the touch. You arch against him, pushing your hips backwards into his. He sucks in a breath and grips your hips. He holds them firmly before he pushes his clothed length into your ass, grinding against you from behind with a groan. You feel your panties soak up the feeling. You weren't sure if you could take something that big but you would sure put up a fight trying.

One hand travels down over your panties stroking you through the fabric. He coos at you as he feels how wet you are. He pats against the seat of your panites and sure enough, you’re wet enough that your panties make a soft, wet noise upon contact.

“Is that for me, angel? "Are gonna drip down my cock when I split you open?” he asks with a lazy smile. The things that came out of his mouth never matched the look on his face. He would say the most toe-curling thing so casually with a smile that you would think he was telling you about the weather. Your chest is heaving at this point. You had never played like this before. Was this what he meant when he said he was a dom?

“Answer me when I'm talking to you, baby. You wanna be my good girl, right?” You whine and nod pathetically. You would do anything for his praise. “Then speak up”

“Its all yours,” you say breathlessly, hoping that's what he wanted to hear.

He dips his hand past the waistband of your panties and circles your clit while his other hand holds firmly onto your hips. You throw your head back against his shoulder. He strokes over your slit teasingly before slipping two fingers inside, one after another. Your hips immediately buck up against his palm, or at least they try to but he has you pinned effectively against his hips.

“Dont fucking move; dont fucking make a sound. Just take it,” he rummbles in your ear “Take it”

His knuckles-deep and all you can do is bend yourself forward, trying to escape his grasp but he follows and fucks into you faster. You cry out, your thighs shaking as he curls an arm under your shoulder, using his leverage to pull you back against his firm chest. “Come on baby, if you can’t handle this, you won’t be able to take me,” he says sweetly.

He hooked his fingers cruelly and you collapsed against him, orgasm whracking through your body. He held your trembling form up like it was nothing. He picks you up and throws you on the bed. You were still in shock as you lay there, catching your breath, your legs still shivering. He held your eye contact form where he stood at the foot of the bed and grabbed the back of his shirt before pulling it over his head swiftly. As he stood in front of you, you saw him for what he really was: he was no rabbit, he was a demon, and you were a fool. He didn't treat you like a porcelain doll; that was just the calm before the storm.

He puts one knee on the bed, starting off towards you and you subconsciously scoot backwards. He sends you that devilish smile and grabs your ankle, pulling you back down the bed until your thighs bracket his hips.

“Where you running to, angel?” he says

You try to close your legs around him; the press of his hips against yours is already to much.

“Open your legs,” he says patiently. You shake your head defiantly, even though the command makes you even wetter.

He runs a hand through his hair and breathes an exhausted sigh. He pries your legs open, pinning them down as he leans forward over you. He uses a hand to grip your face and pushes his hips deep into yours, pinning them down from squirming. “I don’t like playing with brats so your either going to listen the first time I tell you to do something or I’m going to have to break you in,” he warns.

Your heart was beating out of your chest at his words. This was definitely not the same guy with the nerdy glasses you met in a cafe.

You nod your head in understanding.

“Use your big girl words,” he says with a peck of your lips.

“Yes sir,” you say. A pleased smile dances on his lips.

“You learn fast,” he praises. That you do.

He captures your lips in the first real kiss of the night and you moan into his mouth as his tongue snakes its way past your lips. You roll your hips up into his and he allows it as he shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss was messy and lazy. You pull back to plead, “Please, I need to touch you. Please let me touch you”

He waits a moment, like hes thinking about it but he nods and pulls you back into another heated kiss. Being with Jaemin was extremely intimate; he worshiped your body as if it were his only purpose in life. His kisses were dangerous and claiming. He marked your body like you belonged to him and tonight you did.

You rake your hands down his spine, nails digging into his skin as your back arches against him. It was too much yet not enough at the same time. “I need you,” you beg.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve been good for you.”

“Thats right, baby, you have been really good,” he nuzzles at your neck affectialanty “but I need you to be sure”

“Im positive, I want you”

Jaemin kisses you assuringly and pulls down the sweatpants that still clung to his hips. He must not have been wearing any underwear because the heavy sound of his length slapping against his abdomen fills the room.

Your eyes trail down his body until they reach the sight in between his legs. You take in the leaking tip of his pretty pink cock and the veins that adorn the sides. That thing was supposed to fit inside you. Never in a million years would you have imagined that death by dick could be an option in your life.

“Don't worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he says. He grips the base of his cock and strokes it a few times before lining it up over the top of your belly. It nudged over your navel tauntingly. "I'm going to fill you up until I get here." he says, tapping the length of his cock on your stomach.

No amount of study could have prepared you for this. You came up completely blank on the idea of how this would even possibly fit. He notices the nervous look on your face and kisses your forehead. “Relax, I got you.”

The tension in your shoulders relaxes a little at the comment. Jaemin seemed like he knew what he was doing. You trusted him enough.

He gives you a moment to collect your thoughts as he pulls away from you, going to retrieve a condom from his bedside table. You take the moment to steady your beating heart and prepare yourself. When he comes back to you, he has a bottle of lube and a condom already wrapped around his cock.

“Are you ready?” he asks finally

"Yes,” you breath nervously.

He uncaps the lube and takes your hand, pouring some in your palm and then some over his length. He guides your hand to his length and you stroke the cold substance over him. You coat him in the lube and your grateful for the quick lesson you had with Mark earlier. You know just how to twist your wrist to get a reaction out of him. He groans softly and lets you have your fun before he pulls your hand away. He lines his cockhead up to your entrance and traces through your folds, nudging at your clit in the process. You moan impatiently. He sends you a frigid look through the fringe of his white bangs, instantly putting you in your place.

You pout but wait patiently as he eases his tip through your folds. Ok, this was fine. This was good. He fucks you with his tip pulling out before pushing his way back in. He fists his cock, coating it in the slick that drips from your cunt. You relax under his ministrations, completely letting him take the lead as he works you up with just the head of his dick. You can tell he must be holding back and you appreciate it.

He continues like this for a while before slyly slipping more and more inside of you each time. You’re at the two-thirds mark before you notice the stretch. You face pinching up in pain and your hands immediately find purchase on his hips, a plea for mercy. Jaemin stills inside of you and takes your hands into his own. His touch was delicate and he brought your hands to his lips. He kisses your fingertips before he kisses your palm. He was giving you whiplash with how gentle yet rough he could be sometimes. He kisses down your arm and up your shoulder. He presses kisses into your neck and over your lips. When he finally pulls away,looking down at you with a smile, you realize that somewhere between his barrage of kisses, he slipped the rest of the way inside.

“Look at you, wasn’t that easy”

You just stare back up at him in shock. That was not as bad as you thought it would be; you could still feel a slight lingering discomfort from the stretch but that was soon melting away.

He kisses the confused wrinkle in your brow “just relax baby. Now that the hard part is over, leave the rest up to me”

He pulls his hips back and works them forward experimentally. You shift at the stretch but you handle it well. He massages your thighs as he thrusts into you at a lazy pace, taking it easy and giving you enough time to fully accommodate his length. He hit so deeply inside that you could hardly catch a breath. Your body was hyperaware of every drag against your core and every nuge against your cervix and it craved more. You wrap your legs tight around his waist as you urge him to give you more.

Jaemin ignores your pleas and continues the rythme that he has created so far. You roll your hips, impatiently clawing down his chest in retaliation.

“I'm trying to stay nice angel. Take what I give you” What he was giving you wasnt enough and if he thought you were dumb enough to not notice him holding himself back, he was wrong.

“Don’t fuck me like that”

“Careful angel”

“I can handle it”

"Behave,” he says, gripping your face. He pulls out until only his tip remains and thrusts back in harshly. You scream in pleasure at the snap of his hips. That was what you were looking for; you needed to be broken in. If you wanted to get what you wanted, you needed to disobey.

“Fuck you,” you spit

“Watch your mouth,” one final warning.

“Fuck.You,” you say slowly, making sure he hears every syllable.

Something takes over him. You can see it through the dark gaze in his eyes. Rough hands pull you halfway off the bed, suspended hips held tight in his grasp as he pounds into you. You can’t even scream; your voice is caught in your throat as he uses the grip he has on your hips to slam you onto his cock. Each brutal thrust of his hips sounds off with a harsh clap of skin. Your back arches dangerously off the bed and you almost slip the rest of the way off if it weren't for one of his hands pushing down on your sternum, pinning you to the bed.

“Is this what you want? You wanted it so fucking bad.”

He pulls out and your body compulses at the lack of contact. Your being manhandled off the bed, legs almost giving out from under you but Jaemin swiftly turns you, bending you over before pushing you flat on your stomach. He kicks your legs open further, opening you up for him before he finds your entrance again. You are grateful for this position because when the tears fall from your eyes and your saliva soaks his sheets, you dont have to worry about him seeing how pathetic you look. You hide your face in the sheets, crying out in pleasure. Your body cant keep up and overstimulation kicks in. You’re vibrating, literally, as you tremble in your spot under him.

His body leans over your back and you feel the heat of his body press into you as he continues to pound you into the mattress. His hand slips under you and circles your clit gently, knowing its already too much for you and just wanting to add a little extra to take you over the edge. You can't help the scream that bubbles out of your throat as you cum hard. Everything is black for a little bit and when you finally come to, all you can feel is your own wetness and release sticking to your thighs. Your empty and when you turn to look over your shoulder, Jaemin is stroking over your ass and soon that too is covered in cum.

You could hardly hold your head up anymore as it fell back down limply on the bed. You feel a rag clean you up but you refuse to open your eyes. You hear the sounds of a bath being run, and the next thing you know, your sitting in Jaemin's lap in the tub as he cleans the two of you. Your head laying lazily on his shoulder as he soaped you up and wiped you down. You know he lays you down in his sheets and when your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep.

When you wake up, the sun shines in your eyes as you roll on your side groggily. Your body was sore all over and you felt like you had died and come back to life. Maybe you should have stretched before testing Jaemin's patience. Speaking of which, you notice the oversized shirt adorning your body as you shift to get out of bed. You look around and notice your clothes have been neatly folded on his dresser. You stand and it takes every fiber in your body not to wince every time you take a step. You can still feel his phantom touch as the events of the night before replay in your mind. It was so worth it. You finally make it over to your clothes and notice the note sitting on top of them.

Had to leave for class. Grab breakfast on the way out ;)

One word kept replaying in your head. out. Somehow, you had to navigate your way out of this godforsaken wolves den without running into Renjun or any of his other roomates. You hoped and hoped that they didn’t make it back yet or that they had some class to go to, but when you hold your breath and press your ear up against the door, you can hear a few muffled voices. You could make out the voices of two people; one was Renjun for sure and the other was familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

You were so fucked

You contemplate scaling the window but after looking at the 3-story drop, you decide against it. You try to wait it out, gambling on them just going back to their rooms but it sounds like they started up a videogame in the living room. Your pacing Jaemin’s room, completely forgetting about the ache between your legs. Your about to finally pull Jaemin’s shirt from over your head and put your own clothes back on when you have an idea. You pull open his closet and snag one of his hoodies off of a hanger. You find a pair of matching sweats in one of his drawers and tug those on as well. They didn't fit your frame well but that worked in your favor, with the baggy fabric helping to hide your shape. You pull up the hood and grab your things. If you move fast enough, they shouldn't be able to recognize you; they would no doubt see you, but at least they would just lump you in with any other random girl Jaemin brought home.

1…2…3

You pull open the door and peek your head out into the hall. The coast was clear; you held on tight to the sweatpants slowly falling off your hips and booked it to the front door. You pass the kitchen on your way out and your stomach almost growls at the food Jaemin had left out for you. You have half the mind to swoop in and snatch it but you keep trucking. You pass the living room in a heart beat. You quickly unlock the door, letting yourself out. The last thing you heard before the door closed behind you was, “What the fuck was that? Did you just see that?”

STAMINA

Maybe this was your karma. You had evaded Mark for another week and Chenle wouldn’t let you hear the end of how much Mark had looked like a “kicked puppy.”. You liked Mark, and you really did want to get closer to him in more ways than one, but that was why you had to do this. The last guy you really liked up and left you because you didn’t know how to suck dick... and threw up on him, but thats besides the point. The point is that you didn't want to lose Mark; you were scared to lose Mark, even over something as trivial as this. So you went back on the hunt.

The tinder gods were not looking down on you anymore because every match that came back just didn't make the cut. There were so many weirdos on the app that you were surprised you even got as far as you did. You would have to do the search by foot.

You would scout the courtyards and hallways in between classes, hoping to find your next target, but it was difficult to find what you were looking for. You were searching for stamina, not something that could be seen with the naked eye. Haechan's training helped you a lot, but you were looking for the kind of stamina that would carry you through multiple rounds. You needed someone to practice cum control with.

It was hot outside, and you were exhausted. You were almost late for your last class when someone ran into you. "Sorry, excuse me," the girl replied before scurrying away again.

"Wait!” you call out to her. She had dropped something—a keychain—from her gym bag. “You dropped this,” you say. She turns around and jogs back over.

She quickly thanks you for the keychain and says, "Sorry, I’m in a hurry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m late for track." She then jogs over to the track and field facility. Your about to brush off the interaction when an idea suddenly comes to your head.

Who has more stamina than a long-distance track star?

You find a seat in the stands and observe the combined practices of the men's and women's track teams. You watched as they stretched and did warm ups and you finally found him. In his track suit, he was tall and slender. Although his waist was delicate, it only accentuated his broad shoulders and well-defined biceps. His short, dark hair was cropped close and clung to his forehead from perspiration.

"Jeno, You’re up on the 200-yard dash," yells one of the coaches. and all of a sudden, your mystery man is making his way to the starting blocks. So his name was Jeno.

You head down the stands, happy with your findings, when you hear someone talking about a party that will take place after today's track meet. You didn't know how but you would find a way to that party. Luckily for you, you knew someone who happened to know just about everyone.

“Please Jisung, I need to get into that party!” you beg your friend.

“Then go by yourself,” your friend huffs in annoyance.

You have been friends with Jisung for awhile now. Jisung just had the type of personality that allowed him to fit into any friend group. Everyone adored him. You had to be a nobody if you didn't know Park Jisung. Even though his reputation precedes him, he's actually really laid-back and easy to talk to.

“I don’t know anyone there!” you whine from your seat perched up on his desk in his dorm room.

“Then why do you even want to go” Chenle interjects from his spot on his bed as he scrolls through his phone, playing videos out loud obnoxiously like an old man.

“Its for science,” you state.

“Funny, because thats what im trying to study for,” jisung says sarcastically, “I need to finish my assignments. I dont have time to go out”

A beat of silence passes while you contemplate your next bargaining chip. “I'll do it for you”

Jisungs head snaps up from his textbook “Uh?”

“Come on, I’m like a genius. I’ll finish it for you if you come with me tonight,” you bargain

“This science you speak of doesn't have anything to do with your little outings, does it” Chenle says. He didn't have to specify which outings for you to get it.

“What outings?” Jisung peeks over at his roommate.

“Deal or no deal?” You hurry and try to change the subject; you didn't need poor Jisung to find out you were fucking around to eventually fuck his cousin. Everything leading up to that would probably just end up confusing him.

Pushing back from his desk and letting you take over, he said, "Knock yourself out." You knew those years of drowning your self in your studies to get over heart break would not be in vain

You arrive at a house a little ways off campus. The party was already raging and you were a little upset that you didn’t come to get absolutely wasted. Jisung parked his car on an off-street and walked beside you as you approached the house.

“I might disappear for a little bit tonight but don’t leave without me,” you advise him.

He bemoans, "Make sure you keep your ringer on; you never answer." He hated it when people split up from him at parties, but he was prepared. Chenle told him that you were trying to meet someone tonight.

Once inside, you waste no time in finding the kitchen. You weren't planning on getting wasted, but you at least needed a little liquid courage if you were going to talk to the Greek god you saw earlier. You and Jisung knock a few shots back until you start to feel the buzz. You stick to his side as he introduces you to a few of his friends, and you engage in small talk until you finally see Jeno walk through the front door.

Jeno had finally shown up and he looked even more delectable outside of his track uniform. He was wearing an open flannel over a dark shirt, adorned with a silver necklace. He wore some light-washed jeans that had a few rips and holes in them. He was like he jumped straight out of a boyfriend pin board. You felt a little creepy watching him over the rim of your red solo cup. You finish off your drink and part ways with your small group. Hes walking into the kitchen and you follow behind him.

“Hey, your Jeno, right?” you call out to him. He looks up from the drink he's pouring and sends you a friendly smile. You don’t miss the way his eyes look you up and down.

“Whats up?” he replies, taking a swig from the mixture he poured.

“I watched your track practice today; did you run the 200? Your really good,” you say honestly

“Thank you; do you run too?” he asks, keeping the conversation flowing.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your impatience but you can’t find it in you to care about easing your way into the question. “I don’t actually, but i’m actually doing a study on endurance and stamina I was hoping you could help me with that”

“Oh yea? What class is the project for?”

“No class, just my own personal studies”

“On endurance and stamina?”

“Yes”

It takes a moment for the gears in his head to start spinning

“Oh…oh!”

"I can give you my number; just text me if you’re interested," you say, pulling out a piece of paper with your phone number on it. You had written it down earlier, knowing that a pen would be impossible to find at a college party.

He takes it from you and stares you down for a moment, his heavily lidded eyes raking over your frame again. "I'll let you know." You don't need to look to know that he's staring at your ass when you turn to walk away.

He texts you before the night is even over but you don't respond until the morning. You let him know the exact details of the “stamina training” you had in mind and he agreed to your terms and conditions. You plan to hook up the following day; this was the last thing you needed to perfect, and you were excited. That day had come in no time and now you were fresh out of the shower, waiting for the fateful knock on your door.

You had no time to prepare for this session, and you honestly didn’t know how to. How does one develop a resistance to pleasure, and how does one avoid the one thing you seek when satisfying oneself? Hopefully Jeno had the answers, and if he didn't, hopefully he helped you find them.

Your fixing your hair and making sure everything is laid neatly when you hear a faint knock on your door. You look at yourself one last time in the mirror before going to open your front door. Jeno stands infront of your door with a small smile and you let him in. At this point, you were used to the awkward small talk and embarrassing attempts at flirting. You wasted no time in pulling him towards you. His hands instantly find your waist. You’re so close, you notice the cute mole he has under his eye. He stares back at you, his eyes round like puppy dogs. You pull him back into a slow kiss. Today there was no rush; it was all about resistance.

Once you get your fill of his lips, you pull away again and lead him to your bedroom. You kick your door closed and pull him down on top of you on your bed. “No matter how much I beg, dont let me cum,” you warn him

“Who says I was going to let you cum?” he teases back before he meets your lips again.

You smiled into the kiss; you were going to like this one. You wondered what type of role he would play when darkness wrapped around you both in its cool, sensual embrace. Would he let you take control like you did with Haechan? Would he be as strict as Jaemin, keeping you in your place or would he be laid back like Renjun? Guiding you and willing to relent some of the control to you if you ask. His firm body pins you down under him, and he kisses you hotly before ghosting his lips down your neck teasingly. His hands snake their way up your shirt and he explores the skin exposed there before pushing it up and over your chest. He lays sweet kisses over the top of your breast, not yet ready to part with the image of you wrapped in the lace that was your bra. Your impatient so you sit up on your elbows to help him get you out of your shirt. You pull your shirt over your head, and you scoot a little out of his embrace to pull down your shorts. Jeno takes the hint and strips himself bare, except for his briefs. When your done, he pulls you back under him and gets you settled again. You can feel him pressing hot against your skin. You had barely just met him, but something about the way Jeno kissed you and touched you—the way he paid attention to your body—was so intimate. The little sounds you would make when he nips at your skin. The way you bite your lips when he licks your sweat-prickled skin unabashedly. He watches it all, doing his own little research to learn just what you like. You weren't sure at first, but Jeno was a lover boy. Even though you weren’t his, he would love you like you were.

Hes already slipping his hands into your underwear and the moans that slip out of your lips are sinful. He rubs your clit in soothing circles, spreading your juices so he can slip inside and open you up. His other hand slips behind your back and finally removes your bra so he can suckle on your nipples and massage your chest.

“Fuck Jen, I need more, please,” you whine

“You better be able to take what you ask for,” He warns.

He finally slips 2 fingers inside of you and begins to pump them leisurely. You grip the hair at the back of his neck and pull him back to your lips. You needed to drown out the sounds you were about to make when you felt his thick fingers stretch you out. His hands were warm; they warmed your entire body as they worked in tandem to bring you high. Deeply curled fingers had your back arching as you moaned in to his open mouth. He swallowed down all your sounds as he huffed his own into your mouth. He was grinding down shallowly into one of your thighs as he lay on top of you. The length of him rubbing against you gave you a good idea of what you would be working with tonight and you were happy for your lessons with Jaemin because Jeno was definitely going to split you in two. That thought alone had your thighs clamping against his wrist and your hands gripping on to him, anywhere you could reach.

“You there, baby? Fight through it. You got it. Come on,” he said, speaking with a soft bass in his voice.

“Im gonna cum,” you choke out every part of your body, lighting up with pleasure that you can't snuff out.

His fingers slow but they don't stop completely. He lets up, willing you to calm down. You feel your orgasm slowly slip away and the feeling that was left afterwards was something close to desperation. Your legs are spread wide as you roll your hips up onto his fingers, urging him deeper. You pull him impossible closer to your body. His fingers pick up their pace again and it feels like you have grown 100 times more sensitive because this time it takes little to no time for the waves that crash against you and lap at your stomach to finally drown you out. Jeno can feel the way you tense up in his hold and he pulls away completely this time.

“No, please, this is driving me crazy,” you cry

“Come on, baby your doing so good,” he says, kissing your pout

Your body is still tingling with the traces of your lost orgasm but you manage to calm down as Jeno passes his hands against your skin soothingly. Stroking your sides and stomach lazily until you settle.

“What if we try something else?” he suggests after another minute of gazing at you.

“Like what?”

"Well, if you find it difficult to hold back your orgasm, why not just let it go?”

“I'm not following. Doesn’t that defeat the whole point?” you quirk a brow at him

“Im saying what if you build your endurance to last multiple rounds. Find a way to keep going through multiple orgasms.

The thought turned your entire view upside down. You had never thought of it that way. You weigh the options in your head. The burning desire and desperation that edging leaves you with or the overwhelming sensations that overstimulation was sure to make you writhe with. Maybe this question was best asked when you weren’t horny and wound up from an orgasm denial because all you could think about was cuming.

“Lets try that”

Jeno kisses down your body until he lays between your legs. He shifts one leg over his shoulder and kisses your clit softly while holding eye contact. Your hips already twitch with need. “Hands behind your back” was his whispered command.

You fold your arms, bending each at the elbow, neatly behind your back. You rest against them as you breathe deeply through your nose. Jeno licks a flat strip against your folds. Your folds were already soaked, practically dripping onto the sheets and he just cleaned it all up. He licks a pointed strip now through your folds, parting them on his way up until hes teasing at your clit again, He wraps his lips against it and suckles gently. He slips his fingers back inside as he gets lost in making out with your pussy. It takes every fibre in your being to hold still; you needed to focus on lasting as long as you could. You decided you would scum but you at least wanted to see how long you could last. Jeno just hums against you, lost in his own thoughts and his own world. His eyes were closed now but his eyebrows were furrowed up like he was concentrating.

He parts his fingers inside of you, stretching them out to make room for his tongue, He licks inside of you over and over and you truly do go crazy. Your thighs attempt to clamp close, but Jeno’s free arm pins one of them open, forcing his face back into your heat. He fucks his fingers ruthlessly now, determined to throw you over into the current, and he does. Your orgasm leaves you feeling sleepy and heavy. The only thing that brings you back down to earth is Jeno’s slick mouth sliding into place over yours as he kisses you deeply.

“3 times. Can you handle that? 3 times?” he asks

You take his words into consideration; you feel yourself throbbing, but you think you could manage two more rounds. You send him a nod and he kisses you again as he shoves off the last piece of his clothing. You can feel him stroke against your slick folds, teasing the head of his cock inside before pulling back out to slap it against your wetness.

“You ready?”

You nod and he pushes inside of you. You were right; he was splitting you open. Once he was sitting all the way inside, you let out a small whimper, and he instantly soothed you.

“You’re ok. I'm gonna make you feel really good,” he shushes into your ear as he caresses you.

His voice is so soft and smooth that you relax against his hold. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips before sending him a nod. You couldn't bring up enough energy to speak. You barely had enough to cum again but you would fight through the drowsiness.

“Let me know if you want to stop, ok?” he offers gently before pulling his hips back slowly to thrust deep inside of you again.

It was like he was hypnotizing you—the way his hips moved as he fucked you, the way his slim waist looked with your legs wrapped around it, the way his arms flexed when he went a little harder. You could get used to being under Jeno. You would take however many rounds he gave you. If it meant you could prolong this sensation, you would endure each and every one of them. You loved the way he filled you up and split you open over and over again as he pounded into you. You loved his noises you had to strain to listen for, you loved the way his face would scrunch up in pleasure when you clamped down tight around him.

Your bodies compliment each other's movements as you chase his hips with your own. You were wound up too tight; you needed release. His hands snake down between your legs and circle your clit skillfully. You cum again, this time around his length. He fucks you through it and settles deep inside of you, holding still until your breathing evens again. You didn't know how he did it. He hadn't come once since you started, which must have taken an ungodly amount of will. You knew you wouldn't be able to do that, at least not for a long time. You would have to settle for fighting through the overstimulation for now. You weakly thrust your hips up again, signaling for him to start again.

“Last one baby, I think I'll be a little more selfish this time,” he says before pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

You don't get to ask what he means before he manhandles you into the next position. He lips your hips before swiftly placing a pillow underneath you, angling your hips up. He grips your thighs, forcing them off of his hips and pressing them deep into your chest, your knees bracing your head. He shoves back in deep, fucking you into the mattress in a mating press. He didn't care if you could cum again because he was going to rip it from you. Puppydog eyes no longer stare back at you; they hadn't since he laid you down on the mattress, but this time something else swims behind his eyes. It was pure hunger, like that of a wolf. You realized that, although he was good at holding back, once the gate was open, nothing could stop what rushed through. It was like the final leg of a race, where you see the finish line and sprint for it. He was pent up, and he was going to let you have it.

Over and over again, his hips pounded harshly into yours. They were sure to bruise by morning, joining the others that probably adorn your body from all your other late-night activities. He hadn't mentioned them but you knew he had noticed because he focused most of his kisses there, like he wanted to paint over the others work.

Empty, there was nothing going on inside your head. Just his name repeating on loop until it filled up your thoughts so much that it had no choice but to spill from your lips. His own pathetic moans fill the air as he thrusts, getting sloppy, less sharp and less precise, and he finishes deep inside of you. You’re almost there and you’re grateful that he fights through his own overstimulation to keep fucking into you lazily. You cum around him and your body goes limp against your sheets.

“You were able to keep up with me; you were amazing,” he says around his heavy breathing. You just look over to him and smile, far too exhausted to speak

When you wake up the next morning, you are not expecting to see jeno still lying next to you. You were sure you made it clear to him this wouldnt be a long-term thing. You shake him awake and he stirs in this sleep before cracking an eye open. He looks at you, then rolls over like you were bothering him.

"Jen, get up. You have to go,” you say, shaking his shoulder again

"Hngm,” he groans, pulling more of your cover over him.

You just stare at him incredulously. You slap his shoulder hard and he finally sits up fully. He looks more alert now as he takes in your appearance and then the time on the bedside table.

“Fuck! Im going to be late for practice,” is all he says before rushing to grab his clothes and phone off your nightstand.

You just watch him in amusement as he scrambles around the room. He's halfway through the door before he stops in his tracks. He turns around and strides back to you before leaning over to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. This kiss was short, but you sensed something in it. He pulled away and stepped out the door fully this time, saying a quick goodbye. Jeno was a track star; he’d make it. As you hear your front door close with a heavy slam, one thought runs through your head.

Jeno the track star, and Jeno, the lover boy, was attached to you. In what ways, you didn’t know, but you could not find out.

Navigating across your college campus was already difficult when you had to regularly avoid crowds of students. Now that you were practically a wanted fugitive, it was even harder to slip between the halls and walk from class to class.

Jeno had texted you a few times since he left your house that one day. Haechan never stopped asking around for you, Renjun was pretty cool about everything so it was only a little awkward when you passed him in the halls, and Jaemin... Boy, if Jaemin got his hands on you, it was so over.

There was only one person you wanted to see and that was Mark. He was the only one who hadn't tried to hit you up. It was like he had vanished from the face of the earth. You had practically begged Jisung for any updates but even he hadn't seen him around. It wasn't until you walked into the library one day and saw Mark cuddle up with some girl that your questions were answered. You were devastated. You had spent so much time trying to be perfect for him and he had used that time to move on to another girl. You couldn't exactly blame him; you had been blowing him off for awhile in favor of your "studies.”.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You hated life. Life always has a sick way of turning you on your head. What was this all for without Mark? Not to say you went on this whole sexual exploration just for him but he was the end goal. He was the final boss. It was like putting in hours on a videogame just to have it shut down before you could save. Yes, you play it for fun, but you also play for the sense of accomplishment that comes with completing it and winning.

What was that saying? Play stupid games,win stupid prizes?

You were out sipping smoothies and pouring your heart out to your friend group. You told them everything. Some were more shocked than others.

“You were trying to fuck my cousin!?” Jisung says this in horror as he almost chokes on his smoothie.

“Sorry, Jisung, I cant explain that one” You send him an apologetic smile.

“I just knew something was up! You had that glowy look,” your friend Yangyang says

“Yeah, that post-sex glow!” Mia chimes in

“Will you two quiet down?” You shush them; you did not need the entire establishment knowing you “glow” after sex, making it sound like you had some type of radioactive pussy.

“I cant believe you fucked them; thats bold even for you,” jisung adds

“I dont need your judgment, jisung”

“No, im not judging; its just that they all-”

“Can we please drop it, I dont want to talk about this anymore; people are starting to stare” The old couple that sat across from your table sneaked glances at you and your friends.

"Well, if you want to get over Mark, you should get under someone else,” chenle says

“Its your advice that got me here in the first place,” you remind him as you finish your smooth sucking down the last drop.

You needed to just spend some time alone, collect yourself and get over mark. Honestly, your kind of happy that this happened sooner rather than later, before you developed more intimate feelings for him. You had already been on your way down that path and it had scared you a little. Maybe this was for the best since you weren't yet ready to face your feelings.

You were supposed to be the reasonable friend. You were supposed to be the friend who told everyone else when they were making stupid decisions, but now that you were making dumb decisions, there was no one there to stop you. You shouldn't listen to Chenle, especially not after the first time but it was like there was a devil-shaped Chenle on your shoulder, egging you on.

You texted Renjun; it has been weeks since you last spoke to him and you hoped there were no hurt feelings between you. You had told him you wanted to meet up and that you had a lot of things on your mind that you wanted to forget, even if just for one night. He said he wasn't upset about you ghosting him; he said that was what the app was all about and that if you ever needed a distraction, you were always welcome over.

You were so grateful to Renjun; he always made you feel safe and welcome. You were thankful that he was your first sexual encounter after your past failed attempts.

You know the way to his house like the back of your hand at this point. You were excited to see Renjun again. You hoped that you could build a relationship outside of just sex; he seemed like a really cool dude. You knock on the door, and it swings open a second later.

It wasn't Renjun.

“Sorry, my roomates were just leaving,” the man you were here to meet says, popping up from behind Haechan, who had answered the door. The blood drained from your face. "Haechan, let her in”

Haechan doesn't take his eyes off of you once. When he eventually shifts to the side to let you through the door, you expect him to walk out, but he simply closes it behind you.

You walk into the living room, and 2 other pairs of eyes lock onto you. Confused looks were exchanged between everyone in the room except Renjun, who still had no idea what was going on.

“These are my roomates, Jeno and Jaemin, oh and thats Haechan” Jeno and Jaemin were sitting on the couch in the living room, dressed to go out and Haechan was still standing in the small walkway that led from the living room to the front door.

“We know each other,” haechan says. Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun all give him a confused look after he makes the comment.

“So do we,” Jeno and Jaemin say in unison before quickly looking at each other, even more confused.

“I actually forgot I think I have an assignment due, I need to turn it in before 12 so I think I'll leave,” you say with a sheepish, akward smile.

You turn to run away but Haechan blocks your path. “Where are you running to babe? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks I think we should have a little chat.

“I really need to turn in that assignment” You try again

“Sit down, princess,” jaemins stern voice calls from the couch, He moves over and pats the space next to him.

Fuck.

“Wait, don't tell me,” Renjun says, finally putting all the pieces together. “Did we all fuck her?”

“Yes! I fucked all of you,” you grumble as you plop down on the couch sandwiched between Jeno and Jaemin. You were caught either way, so you might as well fess up. You can't bring yourself to look at Jeno; you knew there would be hurt in his eyes. “In my defense, I had no idea you were all roomates”

“No judgment over here love. I just wish you would have come to me instead of Renjun if you wanted to fuck tonight,” haechan smirked

You cross your arms against your chest and huff. its not like you were in trouble; you were all grown consenting adults but it sure felt like you were.

“That's what you were gonna do, right? Use everything I taught you to go fuck him?” Jaemin says, his piercing stare seeing right through you.

You were annoyed, you hated being on the hot seat, you had come here to escape your worries and not be confronted by 4/5ths of them. Maybe that is why you lash out a little. “Yes, Jaemin, I'm going to fuck your roomate and make him scream loud enough for the rest of you to hear”

“And where did you learn how to do that?”

“From you, of course”

The room grows silent and that annoys you more. You couldn't understand why no one was ripping you out of your clothes yet. “Is someone going to fuck me, or do I have to find someone else to do it”

“Are you ok with Renjun sharing you?” haechan suggests

“I think I can handle it; can you” you say to the room.

“Wouldnt be the first time we shared,” jaemin says

You finally turn to face jeno. He looks at you, then at your lips, and finally speaks. “I want you… I need you so bad” You had a feeling his words had a deeper meaning than that

You didnt have time to worry about him; you already had so much on your mind but you did spare him the slightest mercy and lean into him first. You kiss him, pulling him into a heated kiss and you can feel warm hands under your shirt as Jaemin kisses your neck. Suddenly, you were being pulled away from the kiss and hauled off the couch. Renjun stood in front of you and said, “lets go to my room; I have the most space”

The trail of clothes that is left behind in the hallway was the only evidence you left behind as the door to Renjuns room closed behind you. You crawl into the bed, and Jaemin crawls in behind you. Renjun takes it upon himself to have you first. He claims your lips in a kiss before he trails his hot mouth down your body. He sucks at your chest before continuing down. Jaemin grabs a hold of them from behind, massaging them in Renjun's wake. Haechan props himself up beside you and kisses you, his hand drawing mindless circles against the skin at your stomach as Renjun caresses your thighs as he prys them open. He lays between them and for once, he doesn't wait. He dives in, immeditaly pressing his hot tongue all over you, spreading your juices as he sucks and licks at your cunt. Your hips fuck up on to his tongue and into his face, and he doesn't stop you. He doesn't stop you when you grab ahold of his hair to grind against his face messily. From beside you, Haechan sits up, dick pressing against your lips and urging you to open your mouth. You do your best to suck him off, lazily closing your mouth around him, too focused on how Renjun feels between your legs than about properly sucking him off. Jaemin strokes your hair away from your face, gripping it in a makeshift ponytail for you as he watches you suck off Haechan. You can feel him pressing up against your lower back, and you can't help the new wave of slick that gushes out at the thought of him feeling you up again. You had missed him—all of them, really. The thought pulls your mind back to Jeno, who sat silently on your other side. You reach out blindly until you feel for him. He takes your hand in his and guides it down his body. His hand covers yours as you palm him through his boxers. Soft groans leave his mouth, and you manage to pull him from his confines. You grip firmly and stroke him as best you can from your angle. He seems to appreciate it because, in no time, he's fucking up into your fist.

You feel Haechan tense in your mouth and you think he's going to spill but he pulls out instead. He takes up camp next to Renjun, forcing the other to scoot over. They both lap at your fold messily and you don't miss the way their tongues swirl together, tasting each other. You are ripped away from the beautiful sight between your legs when Jaemin grips your hair and makes you take Jeno into your mouth next. He guides your movements, pulling you up and down the jenos cock, making it hit the back of your throat. Your training really paid off because you only gag slightly until you are in control of the reflex again.

Fingers slip between your folds; your not sure who they belong to, but their curving deep, fucking into you ruthlessly. The way they sissor you open has you moaning around Jeno, causing his hips to stutter. You feel a pair of lips sucking cruelly on your clit and you come undone violently. Jeno cums deep down your throat, making you choke a little. He pulls out, laying limply next to you. You don’t miss the way his eyes shine at you.

The grasp in your hair forces your head back and you turn over your shoulder to kiss Jaemin. You were positive he could taste Jeno on your tongue but that didn't stop him from shoving his wet muscle down your throat and chasing the taste. Sometime during your distracted haze, Renjun pushes inside of you and you moan into your kiss with Jaemin. Renjun fucks you fast and deep. Hold on tight to your hips. Haechan busies himself with your chest, sucking on your nipples before pulling back to steal you away from Jaemin's kisses. Haechan kisses you messily, just like the way he ate you out and swallowed your moans. Renjun's pace turns sloppy and he finishes against your stomach. With how neat and tidy he likes to keep his things, you were surprised at how messy he could get in the heat of the moment. He pulls out and flops down beside you. Haechan quickly takes his place and you thank Jeno for his help in preparing you for this moment.

Haechan pushes inside of you easily, your greedy pussy completely swallowing him whole. He wastes no time in driving into you over and over again. He used your body to get off, pressing quick circles into your clit. You swipe some of Renjun’s cum off your stomach and shove your soiled finger into Haechan’s mouth. Your fingers rest against his tongue as he licks them clean with a groan. You slip your hand free, smearing some of his spit across his mouth in the process. You didn’t know what it was about Haechan, but he just got you so worked up. Maybe it was how nasty he was, licking up another man's cum, and how he would probably lick you clean after this. You couln'tt stop your hips as they bucked up into his. You chase your highs and you use each other. After a few quick thrusts, you're cuming all over his length and leaking onto the covers, adding even more fluid to the mess. Haechan doesn’t pull out. He comes deep inside you, stuffing you full before he pulls out to watch it drip from your hole.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, baby,” Jaemin whispers in your ear. He had waited patiently for everyone else to get done with you because he wanted your full attention. Jaemin was going to show you that he was all you needed.

You don't even get a chance to move before he moves you into position himself. He takes one of the pillows from the head of the bed and instructs you to lay your head on it. You think hes being nice, worried about your neck cramping, until he says, “bite it”

He wouldn't go easy on you this time, not with how pent-up he has been. A hand grips your head, shoving your face into the pillow as he slips inside. This time, there is zero resistance. With all the slick spilling out of your hole, he was able to lube up before slipping inside.

“Fuck, look at that. Taking it so well,” Jeno says from his spot on the bed. A few moans follow and you assume they are all touching themselves at the sight.

Jaemin forces your head up and makes you look at Renjun, Haechan, and Jeno, all beating their dicks. “You think they can fuck you like I do? No ones got you like I do baby and i’m gonna prove it”

Your pushed back into the pillow, your screams muffled as he snaps his hips into your ass. Crude clapping fills the room as your skin makes contact from his long, deep strokes. Your moans are instead replaced with Haechan's as they fill the room alongside Renjun and Jenos. Jaemin doesn't let up, grabbing one of your arms and pinning it to your back. Renjun's pillow was soaked with your tears as you cried in pleasure at the way Jaemin fucked you. Your thighs grow weak and you can’t hold yourself up anymore but that's ok because Jaemin's strong grip keeps you up as he holds you in place, pounding into you from behind.

“Fuck, im gonna cum” Haechan moans

You’re about to as well when your thighs start to tremble and your body starts to thrash as you try to escape the onslaught of pleasure.

“Stay right there, princess. You got it,” Jaemin grunts into your ear. His chest is pressed against your back, and his biceps curl around your throat, pulling you away from the pillow and successfully trapping you in a chokehold. You scream out load finally, and your orgasm wracks through you. Your tight grip on Jaemin's cock has him cumming deep inside of you with a groan.

Everyone was exhausted and sprawled across Renjun's bed. Renjun, followed by Haechan, Jeno, You, and Jaemin. That was how you were all laid out. Someone went to grab a towel and whipped you clean before wrapping strong arms around you. Through your drowsiness, you looked up to see Jeno nuzzled into your side, embracing you. You had resolved most of your problems except for one.

You shake the thought from your head—not tonight. Tonight, you would just be his and enjoy this moment. You would face him in the morning. You didn't know him well but maybe you could change that.

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading this. There will be no Part 2 anytime soon or maybe even ever. Maybe a spin-off could happen but probably far down the road in the future. This is literally just porn with no plot. I seriously have no idea where I would take this story. Comment and leave feedback if you want to; it is always appreciated.

a/n: Fun fact i actually did lose my virginity to a fence, it is completely possible to break your hymen through injury. That shit hurt so bad lmaooo. Some of these events in the fic are pulled from real life. See if you can guess which ones lol.

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helaintoloki · 4 months ago

Text

The Unbearable Truth

pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader

warnings: angst with no happy ending, spoilers

notes: so i actually hated this storyline in the show but i also recognize angst potential when i see it so here’s this

summary: after getting lost in the subway system, Five comes to a grave realization

Five Hargreeves doesn’t love you anymore, and you’re completely oblivious to the fact.

You’re in the kitchen of Lila’s home baking holiday treats with your niece while awaiting the arrival of the rest of your family to begin the festivities. You smell of cinnamon and pinecones, and for the first time in years you actually feel content and happy with where your life is now. Sure, there’s technically a looming apocalypse hanging over you right now, but it’s nothing you haven’t handled before. You’re actually part of a family now with a man who adores you, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Alright, Grace, would you like to do the honors of putting the gumdrop buttons on the gingerbread men while I check on the sugar cookies?”

“Yes, aunt y/n!” The girl exclaims cheerfully before immediately diving into the candy bowl. You laugh at her eagerness and turn towards the oven only to be met with the sight of Five in the kitchen doorway. He looks disheveled and unnerved, but you’re too engrossed in your own joy filled bubble to pick up on it right away and instead mistake him for being tired and overwhelmed with the situation surrounding Ben and Jennifer.

“Hey, you made it!” You say with a smile as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning your attention to the sugar cookies. Five can only stand there stiffly as he clings onto the ghost of your lips against his skin. He had hoped that by seeing you again, by being in your presence and showered in your love for him, the feelings he once held for you would return.

But as he stands there in the middle of the kitchen watching you run about, he realizes that he feels absolutely nothing.

Initially, he had wanted nothing more than to return home to you and his siblings. Five had fought tooth and nail trying to figure out a way to get out of that damned subway system so he could have you in his arms again and tell you how much he missed you even if for you he had only been gone a couple hours. But a man could only take eating so many subway rats and being shot at so many times. He had grown tired, weary, and depressed. For a moment it seemed they’d be stuck there forever, and so he decided that maybe it was time to make the most of it.

What he didn’t expect was to fall in love with his brother’s wife.

A woman he had once hated with his entire being now was his sole companion, and whether it was due to some sick twist of fate or a moment of weakness, he had begun to look at her the way he once looked at you. With complete adoration and care as well as a fierce need to protect her and keep her safe. He knew the chances of ever seeing you again were highly unlikely, and the next logical step would be to move on. So he did.

But now here he is, back in his original timeline left to deal with the aftermath of his decisions.

In what was seven years for Five and three hours for you, the boy has fallen out of love with you. Your smile still may be as beautiful as ever and your scent of red berry plum and jasmine may be intoxicating to any other man, but he feels absolutely nothing when he looks at you. The spark is gone, and unbeknownst to you your relationship is about to fall apart.

“Where did you run off to?” You ask him after setting the freshly baked sugar cookies onto the cooling rack nearby.

“I had an… errand to run,” he utters carefully, growing stiff when you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head upon his shoulder. Calculatingly, Five hesitantly rests a hand on your back while the other comes to comb his fingers through your hair. It’s a familiar motion that he is easily able to replicate in order to portray himself as the same doting partner you know and love. Lila had sworn him to secrecy, but he wasn’t sure just how to break it off with you without telling the truth. So for now he would go through the motions and hope to god you didn’t pick up on the fact that something was completely wrong.

“I’m happy you’re here,” you profess earnestly, peering up at him with fluttering lashes and a devoted smile. “I love you, Five.”

His chest tightens in agony at your words, his hold on you tightening in an attempt to ground himself as he harshly swallows down his discomfort. He meets your adoring gaze and smiles, carefully tilting your chin upwards to meet his lips in a tender kiss. It’s believable enough to keep you feeling secure and oblivious to his detachment, and he hopes that maybe if he keeps this up he can forget all about Lila and go back to normal.

Even if it means he’s just playing a part.

Pulling away, he meets your loving stare and offers you a small smile. Hesitating, as if he has to force the words out of him, Five murmurs out a quiet, “I love you, too.”

And you believe him.

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves imagine #number five x reader #number five imagine #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #tua spoilers #angst

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giuliettagaltieri · 4 months ago

Text

His Girl

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Featherless birds fall with a splat

Warning: Angst, cursing

Word Count: 4532

Part 1 • Part 2

You aren’t exactly certain how you’d feel with Rafe walking out on you like that.

Partly, you were glad that you somehow managed to face him without breaking but the way his eyes bore on you, it was just awful, like you were physically causing him pain.

And perhaps you were.

JJ saw how your mood has switched after you got your drinks. Your eyes were all blank and you were spacing out. He made the decision for you both to head back and meet with your other friends.

You are sitting with your girlfriends, and JJ decided to join you for the rest of the night. He was entertaining everybody with his overly exaggerated wild stories, trying to get you to focus on him, but your eyes are wandering on a certain someone.

Rafe was gulping down beer, cup after cup. It was too much, even for him.

You understand he’s got an extremely high alcohol tolerance but this is just sad to look at. His face was all red and his shirt was clinging to his back, soaked with sweat.

“You know, I really thought I could finally catch your attention with Cameron all gone.” JJ suddenly leans on the sofa next to you. You sigh, giving a quick smile without looking at him. “But I guess it was stupid of me to swoop in when you are literally in love with him.”

Pursing your lips together, you look away from Rafe to glance at the man beside you. JJ was looking sullen but a trace of smirk is still on his lips, never really looking utterly hopeless. Sometimes you wonder how he was able to master such a carefree façade.

“I really had fun hanging out with you.” You say sadly. “You’re a good friend.”

He scrunches his face. “Good friend. Yeah.”

“JJ, come on.” You laugh at his blatant display of dislike at being called a “friend” but he breaks into a smile. “I really enjoyed being with you. It’s just I don’t…It’s too soon and Rafe-”

“I know.” He cuts you off, his eyes wandering to the man. “He looks like shit.” He mutters and you look over to see just in time Rafe doubling over, looking like he is seconds away from ruining the carpet.

Your back immediately leaves the sofa and you sit up straighter, ready to move whenever Rafe needs you.

“Y/N, he’s not a baby. Let him take care of himself.” JJ chuckles, making you bite your lip, still anxiously watching.

Rafe looks like he’s about to collapse, he was clutching his head and grimacing in pain. Soon enough, he was shoving people away and heading to the bathroom.

“I don’t know, J. I haven’t seen him that drunk since…” You squint at Rafe’ direction in the dark, trying to find a memory to match. “I haven’t seen him that drunk.”

JJ’s brows slowly rise. “Really? Not even when his father found out he did drugs?”

You shake your head. “No, not even then.” You slowly rise from the couch and JJ lets you go.

“Well, I suppose he can’t be left alone, can he?” JJ smiles somberly and you return it apologetically, still thankful that he’s supporting you right now.

Your girlfriends however were not so keen on the idea.

“Y/N, where do you think you’re going?”

“Ladies.” JJ starts, throwing you a wink. “Have I ever told you about that time we fought actual gators?”

You take your time, heading to the bathroom. Your usual caregiver spirit when Rafe is in need has been dampened and you’re not sure she’s making a recovery soon.

The music gets muffled the deeper you go into the dark hallway. The entire house is still buzzing from the music of course but you no longer feel like the speaker’s up your eardrums. And with every step you take, the more you hear. You are careful where you step, making sure your feet don’t step on any creaky floorboards.

You stand there, face to face with the bathroom door, hearing Rafe being absolutely wasted. And is he crying? You bite on your knuckle, brows meeting just a little as you try to listen.

Quietly, you twist the knob open. He was retching, big arms hugging the tiny toilet, his head almost all the way in. You stand there, watching his shoulders shake. His sobs sounded almost hysterical, ripping from his throat.

What has happened to you, Rafe?

“Rafe?” You gently call his name and he turns to you. His hand absentmindedly tried to flush the contents of the toilet, missing it multiple times. You watch him sag, his entire body sitting on his ankles as he looks up to you helplessly.

“Hey.” He drawls. “Wha... wha' are you doin' here?” He asks casually in a coarse voice he got after barfing his guts out. His heavy-lidded eyes look up at you, watching you hesitantly walk towards him. “Shouldn’t be here.” He shakes his head, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Rafe.” You say his name so gently, he closes his eyes. He’d pay just to hear you say his name again and again. “Are you alright?” You ask and he looks up at you dumbly, mouth slightly parted before nodding slowly.

“Yes.”

You fish out your own handkerchief and run the tap over it, just enough to dampen the fabric. “You don’t look like you’re alright.” You smile, a hint of teasing on your voice and he scoffs.

“Why ask when you don’…don’t believe me anyway?” He gestured stupidly with his hand and he stills when you grab the said hand. He looks up at you as you wipe the sick off his arm.

“You drank too much.” You mumble as you start to step closer to him, your hand cupping his cheek to wipe at the corner of his lips.

“No, shit.” He wanted to say but the words are stuck on his throat as he just stared at you, taking care of him, touching him, just looking at him again. He drops his hands and his limp fingers rest on the cold bathroom floor. He is feeling too much, how your ankles brush on his thighs, the warmth of your fingers, and the soft dampness of the fabric gliding on his chin.

Have you always been like this to him?

Rafe wonders if he just sat still while you tended to him before, would he have this sight of you all those times. Was he so stupid he missed all opportunities to look at you like this?

“Come back.”

You pause. “What?”

He shakes his head before looking at the pinstriped polo you are wearing. His brows creased, teeth clenching in annoyance as he pinched the fabric. “This…this is mine. You’re wearin’ MY clothes while you’re kissin’ other guys!” He fumes, hands clumsily tugging at your clothes that your knees almost buckle, your hand finding purchase on his shoulder so as to not fall. “That’s fucking un…unacceptable! You like ME! You can’t go ‘round kissin’ other guys when y’ like me!” He suddenly yells and your eye twitches.

Your finger jabs at his chest. “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s glassy eyes widen as his breath gets caught in his throat. Did you just…did you just curse at him?

“Fuck you, Rafe!” You repeat in annoyance. Blood boiling within seconds as you angrily run a hand on your hair, scoffing at the sheer audacity of this man to say those things to you.

You glare at him again and he actually flinches. “Don’t tell me what to do. You have no right to decide for me.” You angrily strip off the pinstriped polo, his head following your wild motion before you crumple it in a ball. “This is your polo?” You raise it and he nods hesitantly, still in shock at your outburst. “Here!” You throw it at his face and you watch it cover his head, his hands are sluggish as he slowly pulls it off.

You’re heaving in frustration both hands on your hips as you look at his crestfallen face, bunching the fabric in his large hands.

“Then I can go kiss other guys now, huh?” You say out of anger and you watch his shoulders sag as he brings his hands to the floor again, fingers twisting the fabric.

He looked absolutely wrecked and your heart starts to feel heavy again. You cross your arms, leaning on the wall as you watch him stare at the floor.

“Why shouldn’t I be allowed to kiss other guys? You made it clear that you don’t like me.” His head shoots up when you say that. “I’m not waiting for you forever.”

Rafe presses the heel of his palms against his eyes before he looks at you in agony, face all red, his bottom lip jutting out just the slightest.

“Y/N, please.” He moves to you, still on his knees as he loosely wraps an arm around your thighs. You looked up at the ceiling when he stared up to you desperately. “’m sorry, please. Don’t leave me ‘gain, please.”

You attempt to push him off but he hugs your thighs tighter, his head pressing on your stomach. “Rafe, let go!”

“No!” He sobbed, his shoulders shaking. “You’re mine! You like me! Not sharing you with that…that fucking pogue-”

“Rafe!”

He flinches again but he doesn’t respond, only hugging you impossibly tight.

“You have to let me go.” You say more calmly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

He shakes his head against your stomach. You lean further against the wall, trusting it to hold you up as you surrender, sighing out your frustration as you rub his back, letting him cry on your stomach.

Perhaps JJ was wrong, about Rafe not being a baby. You truly feel like you are calming down an overgrown toddler. A toddler that fed on steroids instead of milk. His arms are tightly wrapped around you, just allowing you to breathe and aside from that, you can’t do anything else. Your free hand that didn’t get caught in his trapping hold, tried to soothe him, trying to tell him that you’re there, with him.

You run your fingers through his buzzed hair, feeling the heat and sweat cling on your fingers.

“You’re a mess.” You mumble, a small smile playing on your lips when his shoulders eventually start to stop shaking. “You got snot all over my belly, ugh.”

Rafe loosens his arms around you and wipes his nose, his eyes glaring at you for a moment. You smile at him smugly as he gathers himself. He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, eyes kept on the polo that he crumpled on his hand like a ball.

“Wanna wash your face?” You giggle.

He glares at you again but actually does what you told him to and takes the mouthwash you casually hands him. You nudge him with your shoulder to get him to scoot over so you can wash your handkerchief. Rafe watches your hands get under the faucet, just calmly watching the water glide over your skin, delicate fingers wringing the fabric that you so gently wiped on his face a while ago.

“’m sorry.” He slurred as he watched you tidying up. “Was so stupid. Sayin’ things that I don’t mean.” He continues, eyes starting to get desperate as you just rifle through your bag, not even looking at him. “Sorry for causing you trouble all the time.” He follows you like a puppy when you move past him to head to the door. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

You grip the doorknob tightly before it loosens in defeat. Rafe’s eyes brighten up when you turn to look at him.

“Why do you boys suddenly become the most honest people when you’re drunk?” You ask exasperatedly, also remembering JJ’s confession on the porch. “But then again, you could just be spouting nonsense.” You open the door this time but he puts a hand against it to close it again.

“I’m not. Please!” Rafe almost begs, his entire frame caging you against the door, his respect for personal space long forgotten as there’s nothing else in his head but to try and get you to understand, to believe. His tongue is heavy and his head is murky due to intoxication, which made him all the more frustrated.

You press your lips together, startled eyes boring into him. You have known that Rafe has an extreme and overwhelming side to him, his entire presence just smothering you in the best ways you can imagine. But with you trying to hold on to the fragile thread of anger and stability, you decide to push him by his chest. “Why don’t we uh…grab coffee? Let you sober up?”

He runs a hand on his face, it’s becoming a habit of his when he’s around you. “Fine. But don’t disregard everything I said just because I’m ‘drunk’. Please.” He said the last word with emphasis, his eyes offering no bargaining, prompting you to nod.

“Alright.”

Rafe looks into your eyes for a couple more seconds, making you understand that he is not willing to accept a half-assed response and you need to take him seriously. He slowly backs up, hands shoving into his pockets while you tongue your cheek, hesitantly opening the door for the both of you.

The blasting music thrums in your ear the deeper you get into the party, maneuvering your way in the sea of hormonal teens. A hand wraps on your wrist and you stop to look who it was.

It was JJ, heaving. He probably ran the moment he saw you. “Hold on, you’re leaving?”

Rafe was quick to pull your hand away from JJ’s hold, immediately squaring up. His chin was titled in a challenge as he eyed the flowers and bows decorating the band-aid on JJ’s chin.

“Rafe, please.” You beg, arms circling on his bicep to stop him from doing anything to JJ, who didn’t look the least bit afraid. In fact, he was looking at Rafe in pure entertainment. “JJ, I’m sorry. I’ll just talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“No, you won’t!” Rafe seethes but you only roll your eyes at him.

Kissing his teeth, JJ nods. “Yeah, sure. Let me know if you need anything.” He eyes Rafe one more time and smiles at you in his usual relaxed manner. “I’ll tell your friends you left early.”

When you finally made it out of the crammed up beach house, you closed your eyes at the nipping sea breeze. You can’t believe you’re leaving the party with the person you have been trying to avoid for weeks.

“Keys.” You mutter and Rafe hastily digs through his pocket, his hooded eyes blinking as he tries to locate his keys.

Your deadpanned eyes watch him for a few more seconds before he finally passes it to you, along with the pinstriped polo, which you hesitantly take.

He felt weird, having to take the passenger seat, especially when it’s you with him. Rafe gets in the car, his eyes on you the entire time you drive. You’re not exactly acknowledging his presence in the car with you, despite his entire body twisted to face you, his head that is leaning back on the chair never turned to any direction but yours. He didn’t even know you arrived until you were taking off your seatbelt.

Rafe follows you quickly, nearly tripping on his way out. But he plays it cool, pulling his shirt down when it rode up. He meets your eyes briefly in embarrassment. This entire experience is ruining alcohol for him.

Even thinking about the mess he made in the bathroom, with you witnessing, made him want to smash every bottle that will ever grace his eyes again. That shit’s evil. Rafe blinks at the brightly lit convenience store, not yet able to process the colors of the different flavors of ramen and chips. He closes his eyes tightly, nearly driven to overstimulation and seeks out a chair, collapsing on it as he attempts to massage away the bounding pulse on his temple.

He feels you place a hand on his shoulder and the scent of coffee fills his lungs. Rafe looks at you briefly and the swirling liquid placed in front of him. You sat yourself on the chair opposite his and your glossed lips wrap on a straw, sipping on your tall cup of slushie.

After muttering a quick thanks, Rafe picks up the coffee, tentatively blowing on it and watching the steam blow off in your direction before taking a sip.

Your cheeks heat up at the groan he lets out when he takes more sips. His shoulders are slightly hunched and you quietly admire his physique as you continuously slurp, watching his intoxication being masked by caffeine with every gulp he takes.

Realizing that you’re staring, your eyes slowly shift outside the glass, cheeks all warmed up. Rafe sets down his coffee and just takes his time to look at you. He does not know if it’s still the lingering effects of alcohol in his blood or the overly bright lighting in this rundown convenience store, but you look like you’re glowing.

“Y/N.” He attempts to speak but you shake your head.

“Give it time, please. Coffee doesn’t magically cure intoxication, you know.” You smile softly to reassure him.

Rafe smiles back before taking another sip. He watches you turn to the road outside again. There you were, in front of him again after weeks of not seeing each other, just sipping on sugar and ice as you swung your feet that were clad in babydoll heels, with pretty straps that he always found cute and alluring. Despite the cozy choice of clothing, you never go without a statement piece.

He steals another glance at your clothes, along with the pinstriped polo you decided to wear again. He takes another sip of coffee. “It looks better on you.”

You look down on your clothes, lips pressing together before giving him a curt smile. “…Thanks.”

“Sure.” He nods. Both of you look at each other for a while, not quite certain what to do with the still tense atmosphere before simultaneously looking away, like a couple for teenager going on a first date, it’s fucking ridiculous.

Time passed with not a single word being uttered between you. Rafe watches how the coffee stained a line on the cup every time he takes a sip, the liquid now cooled, and your slushie cup was starting to sweat and leave trails of water everytime you move it. His eyes were starting to focus again and once he was confident in being able to speak without slurring, he cleared his throat to garner your attention.

“Listen.” He begins but the words lodge themselves in his throat the moment your curious eyes flit to him, perhaps this was a bad idea. He never knew what to say. Rafe doesn’t know if he can last one conversation without offending you somehow. “I know I hurt you. And I know it wasn’t just that time at the party.” He presses a knuckle on his lips to gather his thoughts. “I always take you for granted, when all you ever did was take care of me.”

You cross your arms in an attempt to make yourself feel protected as you lean back, eyes avoiding him.

“Your kindness and efforts. Your…feelings. They were so easy to overlook when you gave them to me every single day without fail.” He tries to reach out to you but stops midway and drops his hands on the table. “I never knew what I had until you decided to take everything away.”

Your eyes sharpen and he winces at his careless mistake.

“I mean, until I finally succeeded in pushing you away.” He reworded his sentence, making sure to pin the blame on himself instead of you. He hated how hurt he made you feel. He felt like shit. He never cared when people called him an asshole or a psycho, but after what he did to you, he felt like every label given to him was all real, and this time, it hurt.

He had girls before, and all the wanting he can associate with them is the feeling of fleeting euphoria when they’re under him, that is all. Rafe never missed anyone, or anything about anyone. Until you came along.

Rafe found himself in the middle of the night, missing you calling him by his name. He missed your smile and scent. His cheeks suddenly go wild red when he remembers the mess he made out of himself when he got your shirt, one you accidentally left in his room, up his nose during those nights when the longing just beats him up.

“I regret everything I said and done.” He says, trying to get back on track to apologizing. “And if you want to be my…friend again…” He takes a deep sigh. “I’ll do better.”

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes shyly meeting his, and you uncross your arms slowly.

“You promise?”

Rafe nods quickly, a small smile appearing on his lips as his hand darts out to hold yours. “Yes, I promise! Just don’t shut me out again.”

Gently, you shift your hand to wrap around his and he gladly holds yours back securely.

“I’ll try to be less…controlling too.” You look away. “I won’t bother you as much and I won’t cling to you in parties or wherever-”

“I thought we’re okay already?” Rafe was dumbfounded.

“We are.” You say, equal confusion in your eyes.

“Then why are you still staying away from me after this?” He asks in frustration.

Your lips part, trying to form words but his statement just muddles everything up.

“I…I just didn’t want you to get fed up again.” You say quietly and he grabs both your hands this time, pulling them to his chest.

“Baby, I don’t care, just come back to me, alright?” He says quickly, you don’t think he realized what he called you just now. “I don’t care if you call me six times a day to argue that raisins do not belong in bread or if you hold my hand in every party we go to.”

The heat in your cheeks slowly travels to your neck. “Rafe.”

“You can have me drive you around the island when you get hungry at three in the morning.” He beams in a surge of confidence and affection. “I’ll let you fix my clothes as it pleases you so much, slap as many hello kitty bandaids on my face as you want.” He laughs, making you smile too. “I-I don’t even know what I’m saying right now, just please let’s go back to how we were before, yeah?” He presses a kiss on your knuckles. “I don’t want to hear any of this plan you have. I just want you with me again.”

At this point, there really is nothing you can say and you can only nod. You are glad that Rafe is satisfied with that response.

After a few more minutes of you catching your breath in silence, you decide to call it a night. Rafe, now sobered up, decided to drive, and let you enjoy the passenger seat like you always do.

Despite the conversation you had in the convenience store, both of you can’t shake off the feeling that you’re forgetting something. Like there is something you are purposefully holding back from each other, and it visibly makes you antsy, Rafe more than you.

He taps his finger on the wheel, tugging at the seatbelt every now and then as you continuously shift your eyes from the road and back to the car interior.

When he finally pulls over in front of your gate, neither of you want to move, still waiting for that something to happen. But as another moment passes, you realize that perhaps it’s time to leave it here for now, to take things slowly, see where it takes you. But he isn’t sure if he wants that, to see you slip away again, like the finest sand between his fingers.

“Uhm…thanks for the ride.” You make a move to open the door but Rafe was quick to lock it, making your brows meet in a soft frown. “Rafe-”

He cuts you off by clumsily pulling his seatbelt off, cupping both your cheeks to smash his lips on yours. It wasn’t careful nor romantic, just pure unadulterated need and impulse. You can feel the tremble in each other’s lips, the fear that one of you might pull away, the fear of what comes next, the fear of not having the other’s love returned in the same intensity.

But as your breath mixes, your tears soaking each other’s cheeks, your body slowly melts into each other’s arms. He was desperate, biting and sucking your lips, everything in his kiss wanted to possess you, making your chest tighten in having everything you ever desired at this moment.

Rafe pulls away abruptly, a thin line of spit still connecting your lips when he looks deep into your eyes. “Tell me you still love me.” He begs while he cradles your face.

“Rafe.” You push him away gently but he presses his forehead against yours, his shoulders shaking.

“Tell me, please.” He squeezed his eyes, not knowing what response he would be receiving. He knows he’d die if you reject him, with his soul open and bared to you in its most vulnerable form.

His eyes slowly open when he feels a soft caress on his arm and you’re smiling at him with your tears cascading down your face.

“I love you.”

It felt like Rafe had winter melting in the palm of his hand, giving birth to spring. Whatever doubt and fear is replaced with nothing else but sweet sweet warmth. He is being shrouded with undeniable assurance that made him feel invulnerable yet ironically, impossibly vulnerable. He had nothing moments ago, and suddenly he got a taste of everything, all at once. He has you. Just as you have him.

He laughs and kisses you breathlessly. “God, Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you.” He litters your face with wet kisses, making you laugh, before he kisses your lips once more, his teeth nibbling on your kiss-swollen lip. “Mmmh, did you get a new lip balm?”

You gently pry his hands from your face as you continue to laugh. He meets your eyes with sheer adoration, head still trying to wrap around the fact that you are his girl. His girl. His girl.

God, he’d gladly die if you told him to, just to prove his dedication.

“I love you.” He whispers gently, intimately, vulnerably.

And with equal passion, you reply, “I love you too.”

Rafe has never felt this kind of happiness in his life, not once. You are his natural high, the ecstasy he’s been chasing. And now that he has you in his arms, he’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you there with him.

Not Your Girl • Not Her Man

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe angst #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron outer banks #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey #rafe cameron obx #childhood friend!reader #outerbanks rafe

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tibby-art · 6 months ago

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hitman au save me .. its been seven years ..

haven’t been able to draw/write much of this au lately but i want to write a few little scene snippets i have stored my brain :’D ill include them under cut

=+=

“This better be something good,” Scar muttered to Cub as they stepped out of the elevator. The hitman, while bound to his contract, considered ‘boring’ missions to be a waste of his time.

“I hope so,” Cub hummed. “Hope so.”

The ConVex swung open the doors to the NHO conference room, not bothering to check if their bosses were actually ready for their meeting.

“Holy mother of—! Knock next time, will you?” A man setting files down on the conference table jumped visibly as the doors slammed open.

“The Vex require a dramatic entrance, Beef,” Scar said casually. Cub snickered.

“Sure, whatever.” Beef furrowed his brow, used to this behavior. He didn’t have time for this. “Okay. Doc was supposed to do this briefing, but he’s busy with his machines I guess, because of course he is, so.” He huffed, composing himself. “Your new top-secret project. This one’s a doozy. Have a look.”

Beef slid the folder across the table. The hitmen flipped it open, absorbing its contents with hungry eyes.

What caught their eyes immediately were the photos. The person of interest looked nothing like a powerful crime boss or a dangerous anomaly. A young adult with glasses, dark eyes and short, sandy brown hair stared back at them.

“Who’s this?” Scar raised an eyebrow. Is the NHO asking them to assassinate some normal-looking university student?

“That is Grian,” Beef explained, both hands planted firmly on the table. “Grian has been with us at the NHO for months.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Scar remarked.

“Grian’s case is top-secret. He’s been staying in high-security, private quarters… as well as our research laboratories.”

“I thought you guys seemed super suspicious lately! I knew they were hiding something from us, Cub,” Scar nudged his partner with a grin. Cub did not budge as his sharp eyes combed through the documents. He hadn’t heard a single word spoken to him.

“Cub? What’s the deal?” Scar asked. He preferred to let Cub read their mission files and summarize it for him, anyways. Dyslexia and top-secret government files were not a great mix. Oh, what would he do without Cub?

“Watchers?” Cub finally spoke, looking up at Beef with a quizzical frown. The other man nodded slowly. “You’re kidding.”

“After months of testing and analysis, we can confirm that this individual is the only currently documented case of a mortal possessing Watcher abilities,” Beef nodded slowly.

Scar had heard whispers of the Watchers only a handful of times. As a vex, he knew plenty about the realm of magic, the divine, the fae, you name it! But Watchers were said to be ancient entities, perhaps as old as time itself. So old that they were widely considered to be a myth.

“So this is not a hit,” Scar said after a moment.

“This is not a hit, Scar, good lord, do not kill this person,” Beef put both hands on his forehead and let them slowly drag down his face.

“Mortal, you say?” Cub raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Beef said. “She was a completely normal citizen until he got these abilities in some freak accident. Lucky for everyone involved, the NHO was able to take control of the situation before anything… dangerous happened.”

“So,” Scar narrowed his eyes slightly, “If this isn’t a hit, then what do you want from us?”

Beef sighed. “After months of testing to determine Grian’s situation, the NHO has decided that he is too important to return to life as a normal citizen at this time. Instead, we’d like to utilize his abilities in our goals to maintain order in Hermit City, and we need someone to train her how to be a special agent in the field.”

“You want the ConVex to train a Watcher how to be a hitman,” Cub said with a slight smirk at just how insane that sounded.

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Scar put both hands on his hips. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“I suppose we could give it a shot,” Cub said. Although the ConVex were bound by a fae contract to work for the NHO, the vex took every opportunity to feign control over their situation. There was no choice here. Beef had given them an order.

“Sure, sure! We are very good at our jobs, after all,” Scar grinned. Whatever happened, good or bad, would at least be entertaining, surely.

“You’ll come back here to meet her tomorrow morning,” Beef instructed. “Hand me that file back and be here by 9, will you?”

“Sure thing,” Cub replied coolly, sliding the file back to the man. Scar couldn’t help but grin wider when he noticed Cub’s hand casually in his pants pocket, some folded white paper barely visible in his grip.

“Don’t be late. I’m serious this time,” Beef called out as the hitmen turned and exited the conference room.

=+=

The conference room was tense that morning. Towards the end of the table sat the NHO - Beef, Doc, Etho, and Bdubs. On one side sat Cub and Scar. Across from them, Grian sat alone.

“So, how about introductions?” Doc clapped his hands together. “Er… Cub and Scar, this is Grian. Grian, this is Cub and Scar. You guys already know the deal. Grian is going to come with you on missions from now on.”

The ConVex hadn’t taken their eyes off of Grian since they entered the room, unable to resist their curiosity. They had both read the files, but still found it hard to believe the person before them was a Watcher. Grian sat rigid in his chair, fiddling with his hands, looking tense and exhausted. She eyed the vex curiously as well.

“Well hello there,” Scar greeted. “I’m Scar, and this is Cub.”

“Hey, hey,” Cub said quietly.

“Hello,” The corner of Grian’s mouth twitched in a possible attempt at a smile.

The three continued to stare at each other until Bdubs cleared his throat.

“Wonderful introduction. Now that we’ve broken the ice, let’s talk about your next mission.” The man picked up a small remote, and the large screen on the wall behind them illuminated.

“Before we send our agents out into the field, we meet like this to discuss the details and ensure that the mission is clearly understood,” Doc explained to Grian, throwing a disapproving glare in the ConVex’s direction.

A lengthy file on some high-profile criminal appeared on the screen, as Bdubs proceeded to read off the information. Scar slumped back in his chair. These mission briefings were the worst. It was time to zone out and have Cub tell him the details later with all the fluff cut out.

At about ten minutes in, Scar yawned absentmindedly.

“Oh, are we boring you, sir?” Doc interrupted Bdubs to shoot a piercing stare at Scar.

“Oh, not at all!” Scar said cheerfully, but slumping in his chair slightly lower.

“As I was saying,” Bdubs continued loudly.

Scar glanced over at Grian. Her eyes quickly darted back to the presentation when they made eye contact. Scar looked over at Cub and found he had still not taken his eyes off of Grian. Hopefully Cub was at least somewhat paying attention, because he sure wasn’t.

Grian continued to fidget with his hands. Scar felt a pang of pity for him. The vex were used to this sort of environment, but according to the NHO, Grian had a completely normal life up until a few months ago. Now suddenly, he gains these terrifying powers and spends months in a top-secret lab having tests run on her all day. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed?

Scar yawned again, this time more intentionally. He earned another death glare from Doc, but Bdubs droned on. He glanced over and saw Grian rubbing a hand on his cheek to help hide a grin.

The art of annoying your boss was a delicate one. Timing is everything. Let enough time pass until they’ve forgotten, or they think you’ve stopped, to continue the game. Scar lets about ten minutes pass before his next yawn, bigger this time.

“Quit it,” Beef hissed. Even Etho glanced over. Doc kept his eyes on the screen, but his jaw was clenched. Grian let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Five minutes later, Cub clears his throat rather loudly. Bdubs stutters over his words for a second, but because Cub is Cub, none of the NHO seems to be able to tell if that was a deliberate cough or not, and they decide to ignore it. Cub shows no emotion.

After an hour that felt like an eternity of Bdubs explaining every possible detail about the case, it seemed to be almost concluded. That was, until a rather loud yawn was heard throughout the conference room.

“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH, FOR GOODNESS SAKE?!” Bdubs finally erupted, whipping around in his chair to face Cub and Scar.

The hitmen stared back blankly. They glanced over across the table, and Bdubs followed their gaze, where Grian sat with both arms over her head in a large stretch.

“Sorry,” Grian said simply when all eyes were on him, lowering his arms. “Just had to stretch a bit.” He stared back at Bdubs innocently.

The NHO stood there, confused. Bdubs was at a loss for words, unable to get a read on the new recruit. He sighed and turned back to the screen. “Well, regardless, I think we’ve about summed things up,” he grumbled.

Scar made eye contact with Grian once again. The two cracked a smile at one another for a second, too quick for the NHO to notice.

Scar had a feeling that him, Cub and Grian were going to get along just fine.

=+=

#if i write more scenes ill probably combine them into one big fic that is just. random chau scenes part 57 or whatever #im better at writing silly character interactions than big plot stuff <- not a writer #convexian hitman au #grian #cubfan135 #goodtimeswithscar #chau #hermitcraft #sketchbook #art tag #convex #grub #desert duo #cubrian

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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago

Text

need

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Thigh Fucking

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv attempts, hurt pussy, some sad feelings, creampie(?) (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.5k

A/N: *sulking in a corner* not proofread at all

He’s gotten used to it, the constant stabbing pain at the base of his stomach, the daydreams and fantasies that plague his every free minute. He’s more sensitive too, you can do anything and it’ll turn him on, make him hard, or raise a new fantasy for him to jerk off to later that night. He got used to waking up in the morning with a throbbing pain between his legs, or a cold wetness soaking his underwear. He got used to having to sneak away to the bathroom, lock himself in his office with his blinds pulled shut because you decided to drop by, or you made him lunch and left a note that was a bit too cute for him to handle.

He never asked why you didn’t seem to have any sexual interest in him. He assumed that you either didn’t want him that way, or you weren't ready. So when you told him that the real reason was because you’re a virgin… His pain increased tenfold. All his fantasies, all the material he could think of late a night became visions of him taking your virginity, working his fat cock into your tight, unused, untouched, hole. It became a hindrance to his day, something he thought about more than he worried about canon events. He couldn’t get you out of his head, he didn't want to pressure you so he didn’t voice desperation, but it’s like you were trying to provoke him.

You became more open, more okay with talking about sex, and your fantasies and asking him questions, voicing your curiosities. He found out that you actually think about him quite a bit, almost all the time apparently. There was an entire night, filled with a few blunts and alcohol where you spent hours, literal hours, telling him about all the fantasies you’ve had. You told him about your most used ones, all the ‘odd’ things that turn you on. He had to hide his boner, almost crushing his beer in his hand with how tense he was and his needs doubled again, turning his blood to molten lava.

Then you offered it to him, you came to him and told him you wanted him to be the one who takes your virginity, you wanted his cock to be the first to enter your special little cunt. He almost blacked out. He came at you like a frenzy that night, licking and sucking every part of your body before working you open and lining himself up with your precious hole. Only to find that he couldn’t fit. You couldn’t take all of him, he was able to get a quarter of his dick inside before tears were streaming down your face. You told him he could keep going, that you could take it but you were on the verge of sobbing, there wasn't one break in your stream of tears and this is not the way he wanted you crying on him. He pulled out against your will and spent the night comforting you, telling you it’s fine, that you can try again, as many times as you need… and that's what you guys did.

It’s been about two months of trying to fit him inside you and it’s becoming unbearable. You guys try every other night, sometimes taking more time in between if you’re too sore or you guys are swamped at work. You guys haven’t done anything else in this entire period of time, wanting the next thing you do together, to be him taking your virginity. He agreed not realizing how long it would take. His hand is nowhere near sufficient anymore, no matter how he tries to pretend it’s yours- especially now that he’s had half his dick inside you. It’s a cycle of build-up, tease, Miguel comforting you, and no-release.

You’re both pent-up. It’s another night of disappointment, you guys had gotten a little further this time, almost his whole cock and you began to think that this was it, Miguel was finally going to have your virginity. Instead, you tore. It was small, it didn’t even feel like much, a sharp burn at the base of your hole. You decided you would just power through, the burn was worth the fulfillment you’d feel at taking him all, at long last, having your boyfriend be completely connected with you, completely surrounded by you. But Miguel knew you were bleeding, there wasn’t enough that he could see it but he could smell the copper in the air and he forced you to stop.

You fell asleep upset with yourself and listening to Miguel’s loving words, assuring you he’d rather you enjoy yourself than power through for him but you just felt like a failure. All your life you dreamed of losing your virginity to someone you love, someone who cares about you, someone who deserves it, and now that you’ve finally found that person, you can’t even give it to him. You’re too embarrassed to concede, to give up and jerk him off instead. You want him to cum inside you, you’ve even started birth control secretly, hoping to surprise him once he gets close enough. You’d fantasized about the moan he’d let out once telling him that he can just cum inside you, but you’re too small to even get him anywhere near cumming, let alone inside you.

You wake up to Miguel groaning in pain, you’re a bit scared at the noise but your fear gets replaced by sadness once you see the source of his pain; a fat bulge resting over his thigh, tenting the sheets slightly. You peak up at his face, making sure it’s slack with sleep before focusing on his hard cock again. You sit, lift your head and rest it on your palm, leaning over Miguel a bit as your other hand comes to stroke over the bulge gently. Your eyes are fixed on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch with your touch. It brings a little rush of pleasure through you, knowing you can pleasure him with the slightest bit of pressure.

You cover him with your hand, cupping it to feel its length and girth against your palm. He whimpers lightly, a sound you’ve never even fantasized about hearing from him, but you know that no matter what you do, you need to hear it again. You can feel his warmth and the way he’s pulsing under your hand, his fingers dig into the sheets gently next to his thighs and his hips lift off the bed momentarily, trying to pleasure himself with you.

Your eyes leave his face to watch his movements, deciding to give him some mercy and rub your hand along his shaft, stimulating him through his sweatpants and the thin blanket. You’re mesmerized by his stuttering, sleepy movements, at the soft whimpers that fall loosely from his lips. A gasp breaks the trance and his hands lift from the bed quickly to grip your wrists and his hips thrust up, forcing your palm to put pressure on his sensitive cock and just stay. “B-Baby- ”

His voice is thick and confused with delirium, still not completely aware of what’s happening but all he knows is he doesn’t want you to stop. He’s buzzing, thrumming, and vibrating with arousal, with desperation for you, need for you.

His eyes meet yours in the dark, taking in your obviously turned-on state, how dilated your eyes are and how your sweet scent is already soaking the air, your taste ghosting over his tongue with every breath he takes. His eyes roll back at the thought, paired with your pressure on his throbbing cock and you pull away. He tries to hold in his groan, trying to be grateful for anything you’ll give him but a small squeak of sadness is what comes out and he chuckles softly at the noise.

You’re still silent, surrounded by your need for him, the only thought in your head is that you need to make him cum. His thick arm comes around you, resting next to your shoulder and pushing you to him gently, nudging you in his direction for a kiss. You smile and drape yourself over his chest, leaning on him and pressing your lips to him. He groans and pulls you closer, admiring your warmth and pressing his cock into the plush of your thighs as he pulls you on top of him. You giggle and help him situate you over him, the base of his cock resting against your neglected clit, sending a shock of pleasure through you and turning your giggles into a light whine.

Miguel breathes in a sharp breath at your noise, trying to ignore how badly he wants to hold you down and just grind his cock into you until he cums, staining his clothes and hopefully leaving a mark on yours but he keeps himself in check, offering you a fond smile instead. “You okay, amor?” His hand is rubbing up and down your back now, calmly like he isn’t throbbing against your clit right now. You think of just grinding into him, sitting up to straddle him, and just fucking his bulge into your clit until you’re cumming all over him. “I wanna cum.” Your voice is weak and pathetic, tired and desperate.

His eyelids flutter at your words and tone, and his arms tense around you, pressing his muscles into your sides for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Yeah? I can-” He takes another shaky breath as his cock throbs beneath you. “I can make that happen, baby. How do you want it?” His stomach is burning at his words, at the hope of getting to touch you, to make you cum. You’re just staring at him, watching him as you think, trying to figure out a way that will satisfy you both. He’s just getting hotter under your gaze, riled up further by your eyes as his hips rise off the bed slowly, pressing his cock into you subconsciously and his eyelids flutter shut at the pleasure.

Your brain is hazy with his movements, his subtle desperation, it’s driving you crazy. You arch your back and seize his lips again with a soft moan. His hands grip your hips, pulling you into him with a groan. You pull away and pant against his lips, running your fingers through his slightly tangled curls and pressing your forehead against his. “Put it against me. Between my thighs.” He growls at your request and flips you both onto your sides, already nodding at you and working his sweatpants off of his legs, kicking them off under the covers. “You want that, honey?”

His hand cups your face as his other wrestles his cock from its confines. “You want that? Take these off.” He yanks at your underwear, roughly enough that they dig into your skin harshly before snapping back. You wiggle them off and slide your shirt off, wanting to be as close to Miguel as you can. You can’t stop the pout that settles on your face when you realize he plans to leave his shirt on. He laughs lovingly at your face. “Want me to take it off?” He says with a teasing tilt to his voice. You laugh and slide closer to him, taking the hem of his shirt into your hands and already trying to pull it over his head. “Jus wanna be closer t’you, Miggy.”

The nickname flips something inside him. You only use that name when you’re feeling extra soft for him, extra tender, and needy. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He pulls you in for a quick kiss before taking his shirt off and kissing you again, swallowing the whine you give him when your naked body rests against his. His wet cock slides against your skin, teasing his sensitive tip, forcing a ragged moan from his mouth when it slides over your mound. You giggle at his reaction, smiling at his eyes, squeezed shut as he takes slow breaths, trying to calm himself. You open your legs, grip his cock, and rest it on your thigh, his eyes snap open. You smile and pull him in for another kiss as he reaches behind him blindly for some lube, lotion, coconut oil- something to get your thighs anywhere near as wet as your pussy is.

You take rest your hand over his as he rubs himself with lube, moaning into your mouth at the sensation. He brings his hand to your face, giggling and apologizing when it smears with lube but devouring you in a kiss once you tell him it’s okay. You close your legs over his cock and whimper into the kiss when his shaft fits itself between your lips. He pulls away with a moan and his hips start fucking into you fervently, overly sensitive and desperate after months of denial. You’re moaning loud and whiny at the way he’s assaulting your clit, constantly stimulating her from the way he’s thrusting against you. You’re digging into his shoulders, feeling the way they flex as his hands grip your hips and run all over your body frantically.

“I’m not gonna last, mi amor.” The words spit out of him quickly as his thrusts get shorter, more focused on making himself cum than making the moment last. His head is clouded with need, his balls are pulsing painfully and his cock is throbbing between your thighs. You’re gripping his hair like you’ll fly away if you let go and moaning his name like it’s the only word you know. Your hips are bucking into him too now, some incoherent words falling from your lips like music to his ears.

You’re trying to tell him that you won’t last either, that you’re on the brink of cumming already, that you’ve been craving him for months, and finally having him is one of the best things you’ve felt but your brain has been shut off since he started moving his hips. You can feel the heat in your stomach bubbling over already, spilling into your bloodstream as you shake against him. “Mig-” Your thighs tense and shake around his cock as he groans your name, almost overwhelmed with how you’re stimulating his cock, at how you’ve been unable to get any sound out but once you’re cumming you can find the strength to say his name. You’re shaking on him, your eyes are rolled back into your head and your jaw is dropped open in a silent moan.

He’s able to grunt out a warning to you before thrusting once- twice- you reach down for his cock and spread your legs, opening to fit him against your entrance. His third thrust stutters to a stop and he’s cumming.

Fuck. He’s cumming inside you.

He folds over like he’s been punched in the gut, a rough moan tearing from his chest as his cock throbs against your wet walls. He sounds distraught, like you’ve ruined him. His entire body is tensing in time with the ropes of cum he’s filling you with. It’s an entire flood, a surplus of cum he’s pouring into you, he feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He never even imagined that you’d let him cum inside you, let alone that it’d feel so fucking good. He shudders out a groan and holds you to his chest, giving you curt thrusts to ensure he doesn’t push in too deep but still trying to fuck him cum into you. His eyes are crossed painfully and all the air is gone from his lungs as you pulse around him, massaging his tip and forcing him to give you more cum.

Your name is the only thing he can utter as his cock spews its last few ropes into you, softening and letting his cum leak onto your thighs, leaving a slick, shimmering trail on you as it soaks into the bed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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tired-biscuit · 8 months ago

Text

A friend, a mate, and all things in-between

18+ MDNI, fem!reader/werewolf!bsf!kiba

premise: after finding out the truth about the role you supposedly play in kiba’s life, you settle on a compromise of taking things slow and seeing where the wind takes you while you’re at it.

cw: monsterfucking, knotting, implied breeding, mounting, size difference, omegaverse themes, werewolf saliva used as aphrodisiac. college/modern AU, friends to lovers, established mating bond, jealousy, descriptions of a close call-cheating encounter in the past, usage of sweetheart and bunny as pet names for reader.

wc: 22.8k

find part one here!

———

On Saturday, Kiba takes you out for dinner, exactly like he’d promised.

The restaurant by the lake that you’ve decided to visit is quaint as much as it is familiar. The lighting is dim but warm, and the tables are clean even if some of the edges have been smoothed out with age and use. Pictures and framed newspaper articles cover the walls. All of them feature your little town in some way or another.

There’s a pleasant tune playing on the tiny, white speakers that are fixed in the corner. You’re pretty sure you’ve heard the song on the radio before. The easy-going notes resemble the elevator music you sometimes hear whenever you go shopping at the local mall and have to reach the garage underneath, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad, necessarily.

If you had to describe the place, it reminds you of a diner that’s gotten stuck in the past, that is if a diner was situated next to a lake and the modern aspects of it were entirely excluded, of course.

After all, there is a shiny new coffee machine sitting behind the counter, and the waitress is wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt instead of a uniform and rollerblades — the latter being a missed opportunity in your opinion.

But speaking of time; both yourself and Kiba used to come here all the time back when you were younger, even going so far back that your feet were left dangling in the air as soon as your butts had plopped onto the same plushy chairs you’re sitting in now. Making choices was easier back then — the only food you ordered had come from the kids menu.

You can still hear his, ‘Are ya gonna finish that?’ somewhere in the back of your mind.

As well as his mother’s immediate hiss of disapproval, ‘For goodness’ sake, boy, let the poor girl eat her food in peace! With the way you’re acting, people are gonna start thinking that I don’t feed you enough.’

In the beginning, you both ate here with your parents. Afterwards — when the soles of your sneakers were able to firmly touch the floor and Kiba had won the bet and got his driver’s license well before you did — it was mostly just the two of you.

But as you sit across from him at the table that’s situated right next to the window, and which you’ve personally favoured for years — you know that he prefers the one that’s in the corner — you come to realize that this date is different from all the previous ones that you’ve been on in this exact place with him.

Because unlike the rest, this one is actually for real.

And it shows, you think. In many ways, with the most obvious one being the fact that your best friend has tidied himself up rather nicely despite the high temperatures outside.

There are jeans instead of gym shorts on his strong legs, and clean shoes on his feet instead of the busted sneakers that he swears up and down are still holding on just fine. He’s even gone through the hassle of putting on a short-sleeved button-up with a pretty pattern that cleverly melds into the colour of the cotton if you’re looking closely enough — not that you are!

In classic Kiba fashion, the top two buttons of his shirt are undone; open just enough for the glint of a thin golden chain to catch your eye whenever he tilts his head to the side or stretches his neck.

You haven’t been staring at the piece of jewelry for long, wondering where or who he’d gotten it from, however you can still tell that there’s no pendant hanging off the necklace. No charm or initial either.

Good.

Wait, wait, wait… why is that good? Are you by any chance hoping that he’ll agree to wear yours because of it?

The thought succeeds in heating up your face with stress — a popular emotion this entire situation has been evoking as of late. Ever since he had admitted that you were his mate back in the tent, you’re still feeling the pressure of deciding if you actually want to be one.

And placing a mark like that on him, clasping your golden initial around his neck and consequently announcing that he’s your property now… It’d signal just that, now wouldn’t it?

Attempting to whisk away the dilemma that’s been plaguing your mind for the last couple of days, you force your eyes to dip from your best friend’s neck, down to the plate of half-eaten food that you’ve still got sitting in front of you.

Your grip on the fork is tight as you chew. The food is good, even if you can’t taste it all that much from how absent-minded you are.

In a mere instant, Kiba is leaning in to ask, “You okay?”

He’s always asking that as of late.

Are you all right?

Is everything okay?

Are you sure?

“Yeah.” The nod you give him is so stiff and fast that it comes across as unnatural instead of genuine. “I’m fine.”

You try to ignore the curious smile that curls his lips as he continues to watch you eat, undoubtedly inhaling the anxiety that riddles your scent in subtle waves now.

He’s learned that it intensifies whenever his foot accidentally touches yours underneath the table. That it doubles in strength whenever he looks you in the eyes for too long. Sometimes it even happens when he grins. Practically everything seems to be setting you off today.

You’re nervous, that much is clear. Are way up in your head about this entire thing just like you are with everything else that happens in your life. And while finding out that you’re basically a perfect biological match for your best friend is no small feat, the young werewolf’s opinion remains: you need to fucking relax.

With how hard you’re squeezing that fork, it’s making him fear that you’re trying to split it in half — an act that he definitely wouldn’t mind doing to you again.

Woah there, reel it back in, lover boy… Easy!

Willing himself to push the dirty thought away by thinking about the food he’s eating instead, Kiba swallows the bite of steak he’d just been chewing on with a small, albeit conflicted sigh.

The meat tastes rich despite the fact that it’s been served nearly raw — the bloodier, the better when it comes to dining with a werewolf, you suppose — however, he finds it hard to fully appreciate the meal when unlike his taste buds, his libido is far from appeased.

“Anyways.” He pauses to glide the tip of his tongue across his front teeth, further appreciating the savory taste that’s stuck there before he leans in slightly closer again. “You look really pretty tonight.”

Hearing his compliment, you look up from your plate; carefully eyeing him from underneath your lashes which you’ve taken the time to coat with a thin layer of mascara before leaving the house. It was a decision made solely for your own peace of mind.

Well, probably.

Taking a shallow breath now, you ask, “I do?”

“What kind of stupid question is that… ‘Course you’re pretty, bunny. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of layin’ my eyes on,” he says, chuckling quietly and propping his cheek against one palm with such ease that it’s almost scary.

Watching you succumb further into yourself in response to his niceness is entertaining as hell, he can’t lie. You’re lost, vulnerable. If looks as sweet as the one that’s sitting on your face right now had the power to kill, he’d be proclaimed a dead man ages ago.

It compels him to add, “You’ve always been pretty to me.”

Messing with you or not, what he says now is the truth. Sticking by your side in the role of your best friend for so many years, Kiba has seen you be at your best as often as he’s experienced you at your worst, and has nonetheless always, always thought the exact same thing about you: that you’re perfect.

Perfect for him, that is.

Whether you’re wearing trendy skirts or hoodies so big that they entirely hide your shape, he still likes you all the same. Whether you’re walking around with freshly washed hair and with make-up on your face, or you’re still stumbling around because you’ve just woken up from a nap that has left you all disoriented and sweaty — to him there’s no difference as long as it’s you.

Part of it is the bond’s doing. It veils you with an appeal that draws him to you no matter what. However, whilst that may be the case, he thinks that the majority of his wild infatuation has to do with plain familiarity instead.

After all, it’s your heart that is his favourite thing about you, that much he’s positive about… Even if the shy little smile that you give him now could be considered quite the competitor.

And quite the competitor it is! Kiba’s eyes are practically glued to the wet-like sheen of your lip gloss when you slowly shake your head to chide a meek, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he inquires immediately with a grin of his own.

“Stop flirting,” you say, placing the fork back onto your plate with a soft clink. Crossing your legs underneath the table, your body language is trying its hardest to appear strict as you add, “We said we were going to take it slow, remember…? Or are you just playing dumb on purpose?”

“What’re you talking about; we are taking it slow,” he says, his tone a matter-of-fact one. “Actually, I doubt it can get much slower than this.”

Your lips purse in response. “Talking in a way that makes you sound like you’re trying to get into my pants does not mean slow, Kiba.”

“You’re not wearing any pants, though.” His gaze slips down to the light sundress you’ve put on for the night. It makes your tits look great, but he knows you wouldn’t be happy to hear that.

You snap your fingers in front of his nose, forcing him to avert his attention from your dress. “That’s besides the point and you know it.”

“Oh, c’mon.” He takes another bite of his food, then points his fork at you, seemingly in an accusatory type of way as he mutters, “I’m just saying… If we did it my way, I would’ve bent you over ages ago.”

“Can… Can you not?! God.” You fight to extinguish the heat that immediately begins to simmer on your cheeks, but it’s proving to be quite difficult. The warmth is so strong that it even manages to travel down to the base of your neck. “Just… be quiet for a second, okay?”

His upper lip twitches as his grin widens. “Why?”

“Just ‘cause!”

Kiba huffs a laugh at the slightly higher pitch that you speak in now, shoulders shaking the tiniest bit. He watches you clear your throat and readjust in your seat, and even goes as far as to drag his gaze from your face to your neck when you reach over to take a small sip of the cocktail you’ve ordered. It still sits on the table looking half-full; creating a prominent circle of moisture on the crispy white table cloth underneath.

The drink is colourful and summery. Even has a little paper umbrella on top. He had joked about how girly it looks earlier, but had secretly considered ordering the exact same thing just to see what the inside of your mouth must taste like. After some consideration, he’d ended up settling on a coke though.

He knows you’d nag him to no end about drinking when he’s the one who’s driving… even if alcohol doesn’t do shit when it comes to him.

Still, girly drink or not, the ice somewhat succeeds in cooling you off and poses a challenge to the sudden heat of bashfulness that threatens to sweep you off your feet. It’s like all your senses have gone acute all of a sudden.

The sigh you let out because of it is one of only partial relief.

“What’s the matter? You hot?” Kiba teases instantly, his voice dropping so dangerously low that you can almost feel it reverberate in your bones. “Hot and bothered?”

“Shut up,” you hiss before taking another sip, this time a larger one. You need it if you wish to endure this menace of a man.

“What’s in it for me?” the mentioned menace questions now, taunting you with that infuriating half-smile that he knows damn well provokes you immensely. He even goes as far as to wiggle his eyebrows as he gives his best effort to purr, “Does it make you feel things, mm? Makes you wanna— Hey!”

His taunting gets replaced with a huff of disapproval when you suddenly kick him in the shin, making the fork rattle atop your plate. The kick itself is nowhere near to being powerful enough to actually hurt him, considering his thick skin and the firm cords of muscle that hide underneath, but it does get the message across. Kind of.

“What’d you do that for?” A playful little pout sits on Kiba’s mouth now. It makes him look younger than he actually is; makes him resemble the kid that you spent all your time with back in high school, as well as all the years prior to that.

“Because it was well deserved, you dumbass,” you mumble, still staring at his face. A small, slightly less nervous chuckle bubbles up your throat when he bristles in answer. “Now be quiet and eat your dinner.”

Not even batting an eye, he blurts out, “I’d rather eat you, though.”

You give it your best shot to scowl at him even if the tease sparks heat somewhere inside your middle all over again. It’s the reason why your voice doesn’t sound as strong as you want it to be when you say, “You’re hopeless, you know that? Actually hopeless.”

“Actually, I think I'm quite on my game tonight.” He gives you a wink, reaching for his fork again. “But you can keep tellin’ yourself that if it makes ya feel any better, sweetheart.”

He’s right.

It makes you sigh.

———

The rest of your first proper date with your best friend goes well. Scarily so.

In fact, neither of you picks up the phone during the entirety of it. The only exception is when you decide to stalk your old classmates from high school together and share a good laugh about some of the results you stumble upon.

“Oh shit, he’s actually completely bald… What the hell?”

“Called it! I fuckin’ called it!”

Your face hurts from laughing so much and with the initial nervousness gone, dinner goes smoothly. You end up sharing dessert and talking nearly until closing time — releasing the growingly impatient waitress from your clutches at long last and mumbling sheepish apologies along the way because of it.

To be honest, the entire outing isn’t much different from all the previous ones you’ve indulged in the exact same restaurant all those years ago.

However, you soon find out that that is because the change in your dynamic presents itself afterwards; when he turns to look you in the eye the second you sit in his car and asks you if you want to go to his place, despite the fact that it’s getting late and he doesn’t live with his mom anymore.

And you go. You nod your head yes and you fucking go. For what reason, you, yourself don’t know, but you might as well find out while you’re at it.

So around quarter to midnight, you arrive to the little apartment that Kiba calls his new home. It’s cozy and a little messy, though not to a degree that should cause concern. Otherwise, it’s lived in and definitely your standard guy apartment.

He shows you the kitchen, immediately rolling his eyes when your gaze lands onto the small pile of dishes in the sink — two cereal bowls and a mug that for some reason says ‘World’s Best Dad’ on it — and points you in the direction of the bathroom, his roommate’s bedroom, and finally, his own room, which you tell him you’ll take a look at some other time, preferably during the day and when you don’t have three sugary cocktails coursing your blood and clouding your better judgement.

You did say that you were going to take it slow, after all.

By the time he drags you into the living room, you let out a small gasp of joy when you come face to face with Akamaru, who lays curled up on the couch, depicting the epitome of comfort.

Scurrying to sit down next to the big pup and offering him your hand to sniff so that he can hopefully recognize you despite not seeing you in years, you begin to understand what Kiba had meant with the term ‘senior dog’ during your camping trip earlier.

Christ, he’s gotten so old.

“So, what do you think?” your best friend calls out from the hallway now. He’d gone there to hang up your jacket for you at first, but it seems like he’s also using the chance to turn off the lights as he goes.

…As well as to run off into his room to change his fancy clothes for a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a simple T-shirt. Typical.

“It’s a nice place. Pretty spacious.” You’re too busy petting Akamaru, pretending you aren’t interested in him when he throws himself onto the couch right next to you, even if your body tenses up just the tiniest bit at the closeness.

You’ve already fucked him, for crying out loud — several times in the span of one night. What are you acting so damn nervous for?

“But?” he mumbles, seemingly not noticing the subtle change in your body language as he crosses his ankles and flicks on the television.

“What do you mean but? There’s no but,” you chide in answer, still scratching the white canine behind the ears and really trying to put all your focus into the movement instead of the warmth of your best friend’s body that is slowly spilling into your side now.

The brown patches in Akamaru’s fur have gotten dull in colour with old age. His eyes look tired and he’s also nowhere as lively as he used to be, though he still puts in the effort to give you an appreciative little wag of his tail when your fingers dig into the sweet spot that you remember is hiding underneath his chin.

“There’s always a but with you,” Kiba insists, changing the channel yet again. He’s not paying attention to the TV, not really anyways, but he pretends that he does just so that you can breathe a little easier.

However, when you turn your head so that you can shoot him a glare for the sly remark, you catch him staring right back at you with that stupidly lovestruck smile playing on his lips.

Lowering your gaze, you try to act like it doesn’t cause butterflies to start fluttering inside your belly. Meanwhile, he tries to act like he can’t smell the sudden sweetness that the feeling evokes in your scent.

“Oh, fine.” You pause, ceasing the petting for a moment. “I suppose it could use a little bit of a woman’s touch here and there… And you definitely could’ve washed the dishes prior to inviting me, but that’s all.”

“For your information, I didn’t wash the dishes ‘cause it’s Kankuro’s turn to do ‘em,” he says. And grins. “And if the place really needs a woman’s touch as badly as you say it does, then you’re more than welcome to touch it all over.”

“Kankuro is your roommate, I take it?” you ask, choosing to skip over the thing he’s hinting at. The butterflies still continue to flutter, though.

“Yep,” Kiba replies, playing with the remote now. The symbol on the power button has long since faded out with use and it doesn’t surprise him really. Him and Kankuro had found the TV on Facebook Marketplace. Bought it so cheap that it felt like a steal.

You listen to the quiet click of claws as Akamaru slides off the couch and ventures down the hallway, aiming straight towards Kiba’s bedroom. He’s probably going to use the chance to hog up as much space on the bed as he possibly can before his owner can beat him to it. Smart dog.

“What’s he like?” you inquire. “This Kankuro guy?”

“He’s, you know… Kanks is just a regular dude as far as I’m concerned,” your best friend says, still staring at the remote. “Cleans up after himself and is good with Akamaru. He does that cosplayin’ shit from time to time, though… Paints his face for those anime conventions that you see online and stuff. It’s pretty dope.”

“Does he know about,” you trail off, making sure to lower your voice just in case, “you know… The whole howling at the moon thingy?”

“Fuck no.” Kiba shakes his head, his lips curling into a smile. “You, Hana and mom are still the only ones who know, but now I’m kind of starting to think that I should’ve kept it a family secret instead of telling your dorky ass about it… Howling at the moon thingy? What are ya; twelve?”

You stick your tongue out at him at the remark. He tries not to stare at it for too long.

“Say…” A couple of moments pass. Your gaze dips to your lap as you ask, “How come you never told Tamaki?”

The mention of his ex-girlfriend makes Kiba want to cringe. His smile falters, twitching downwards at the corners, but he forces it to remain at least semi-present despite the fact that you’re not looking at him. Either your hands must have become the most interesting thing in the world, or you’re ashamed for inquiring about his past relationships.

“Ah, you know,” he mutters after a short moment of silence. His tone sounds very distant out of the blue. “Just never found the right time for it, I suppose.”

You hum at his answer; just a little noise of acknowledgement. “You never found the time even after being with her for… several years?”

How could he, if it also meant having to explain that he was eternally tied to his best friend; the girl he’d always assured her that she shouldn’t be worried about?

Kiba gives a hard, obvious swallow, unable to stop his jaw from clenching a little. “Yeah.”

You pick at your nails, pretending there’s something underneath them in order to appear busy. “Do you miss her?”

“I, um… I think I used to, but I definitely don’t anymore.” He sees the dumbfounded look you give him now and scrubs a tired hand over his face. “I know it sounds awful when I put it like that, trust me, I know, but the bond between me and you doesn’t let me feel things like… that anymore. For other people, I mean. It’s just… It’s a bitch to explain.”

He had loved Tamaki. Perhaps he still does; in a way that would never be enough for her and that is considerably less than what she actually deserves, but after finally connecting with you, his mate, the mere thought of ever being intimate with someone else again repulses him greatly.

He’d tried to make it work. To give her what she’d desired, deserved. Every embrace, kiss, conversation, trip, and so much more. However, you’d always been right there, sitting in the back of his mind during it all. And now that he’d gotten the chance to place his mouth on yours, and had tasted you, had been inside you, he feels so fucking stupid for even attempting to do such a thing in the first place.

It’s either you or nobody.

“So, anyway… Cosplay, huh?” you ask randomly, clearly trying to brush the heavy topic away despite being the one who initiated it.

He blinks, slowly. “What about it?”

“You really think it’s cool?”

“Yes,” he snips all of a sudden. The change of tone makes you even more puzzled than you already are, especially when he adds, “Is it that hard to believe or somethin’?”

“Well… yeah,” you mumble while scratching your cheek. It’s a challenge to contain the surprise that tries to show on your face now; your eyebrows are insisting on rising up nearly to your hairline. “I mean, the Kiba I know would’ve straight up bullied a person like that.”

He blanches at your statement. “That was one time! I was just being honest with the poor suckers when I told them that carrying Yu-Gi-Oh! cards to school is the reason why they’re all still virgins… In fact, I was probably doing them a favour!”

“No,” you object. “You were being mean.”

“Then it’s a good thing that we’re not in high school anymore, I guess.” He flicks the remote onto a nearby pillow and crosses his arms behind his head before he says, “And just so you know, I’m not just some mean asshole that you constantly keep referring to me as. People can change. Myself included.”

“I didn’t–... I didn’t mean it like that,” you reply a bit too fast, feeling every blink your eyelids make. His gaze is unmoving from your face and it’s causing you to become hyper-aware of your body. “I know there’s more to you than just acting like a prick, come on. I wouldn’t be friends with you otherwise.”

He sighs in answer, his face tight. You do the same.

Awkwardness settles in.

“Uh,” you utter at some point, finally daring to look up at him again. “Want to tell me the reason why you like it, though?”

“Like what?” he asks dumbly.

“Cosplay.”

“Oh.” A brief second passes before he, at long last, chuckles. You’re relieved to see his shoulders sag a bit with it. “Well, if I’ve gotta pick one thing, I guess it’s ‘cause most of the chicks are dressed in those hot, skintight bodysuits?”

“Seriously?” A pang of jealousy resonates within you, but you do your best to repress it. It’s too early to be feeling all that. “That’s the best thing you can come up with? Girls in tight bodysuits?”

“No, I’m just messin’ with ya, hah…” He grins, but swallows thickly again and runs his fingers over the back of his head before he continues, “While those are nice, don’t get me wrong, I guess I really like it because it’s like Halloween, in a way?”

“Halloween?” you repeat, even more confused.

“Yeah.” He gives you a nod that could almost come across as sheepish. “Someone can dress up as something that’s supposed to be big and scary, and when people see it, they aren’t… Well, they aren’t afraid of it, necessarily? Instead they just think it’s cool and fun, you know?”

Finally, Kiba tears his gaze from your face, allowing it to settle onto his lap instead. Silence stretches between you once more as you continue to stare at him. Your head tilts to the side just as his drops lower, and you make the decision to reach out so that you can gently pat his knee in understanding.

Your entire body begins to glow from within when his hand rests atop your own. He traces your knuckles and gives them a gentle squeeze. The sensation is truly something you haven’t had the chance to experience before with anyone other than your best friend. There’s just so much nostalgia hiding in the small portrayal of affection.

The tone of your voice slips into something soft because of it, so soft that it comes across as barely above a whisper even to his sensitive wolf hearing when you ask, “I take it that that someone is you, in your… other form?”

“What? No, I, uh… It’s not me.” He lets go of your hand to awkwardly clear his throat, trying to ignore the sudden ache that appears in it before he sits cross-legged and rests his elbows on his knees.

By the time he’s ready to speak again, he’s already fiddling with his fingers. “Besides, even if I actually wanted to go, I still couldn’t. I’m far too big for that. Far too… scary-lookin’.”

He wants to though, you can see it bright as day. Can see that he’s tired of hiding a whole other half of himself — a half that he’ll unfortunately have to keep hidden for as long as he lives. Tired of making excuses and being overly cautious when he’s the exact opposite of it, and missing out on important events whenever they’re set on days following up to a full moon. Tired of receiving weird, uncomfortable glances whenever instinct takes over and his true nature pushes forward a bit too far past the barriers, when all he yearns for is to be liked.

Just… fed up with it all.

However, you also know that Kiba hates being perceived as vulnerable. So rather than moping with him and indulging his sadness and thus worsening it, you instead use the chance to snort and playfully nudge him in the shoulder.

“Oh, yeah?” you say, making sure the lilt in your voice is overly noticeable. “Is that so?”

The nudge you give him makes him look up, as does the sudden change in your tone. At the sight of your friendly smile and the challenge simmering in your eyes, his expression eventually lightens to something a bit less stormy.

You’ll do just about anything to drag your best friend out of the bubble of melancholy that he’s surrounded himself with.

And the best thing about it? You know that he would’ve done the same for you.

“Yeah,” he says, playing along now, albeit reluctantly. He’s still not quite where you want him exactly, but you’re getting there.

“Well, how big and scary are we talking, big boy?” you continue to inquire, wiggling your eyebrows.

“I–” He snickers at your flirtatious prodding, rolling his eyes right afterwards. “Too big for anyone to handle,” he says, “and that includes you.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Can he truly get that big? You’ve never had the chance to see him turn full wolf yet, so his statement causes your stomach to fill with warmth. Heat travels downwards, over your thighs and between your legs, and you swear that you can hear him inhale a breath that’s slightly deeper than usual when it happens.

The unannounced nerves are making you want to start pacing around the room, but you force your body to keep still.

“Well, you not believing me ain’t my problem, now is it?” he says, his smile suddenly wistful now. The light that comes from the TV makes his unnaturally big canines glimmer with moisture. It’s hard to not look at his mouth because of it.

Words slightly wobbly, you manage to say, “I’m your mate, though.”

Mate. He perks up at the word, just like he always does, but his voice doesn’t make him sound particularly fazed as he utters, “And?”

“And that makes me your problem,” you explain, finally daring to move so that you can scratch your cheek again. It’s nothing more but an attempt at self-soothing. “Doesn’t it?”

You’re unsure why you’re pushing on this specific topic — especially after being the one who had once again suggested taking things slow in the first place — however, to be fair, you’ve been curious about it for a long while, even before you’d tangled yourself into this whole ‘bonded for life’ mess.

But now that the link has been revealed, the desire to lay your eyes on the unthinkable has become as potent as ever.

There is just something so undeniably appealing about the idea of seeing him in his werewolf form. Something thrilling in discovering the unknown; touching it with your hands and grazing it with the tips of your fingers. Something reassuring in accepting all of him, especially after he’d just partially trusted you with his insecurities revolving around this specific topic.

So yes, it’s either that, or it’s the newly discovered monsterfucker that’s been hiding inside you this whole time that’s talking and coaxing him into showing himself now. Or perhaps it’s both. Who knows?

You try to feign indifference to the best of your capability as you wait for his answer, even if every single inch of you is buzzing with relentless expectation.

With bated breath that could very well match your own to perfection, Kiba inches ever so slightly closer, seemingly completely unintentionally. His gaze is laser-focused as he studies every feature that your face provides. The curve of your jaw, the shape of your lips, the colour of your eyes — he burns it all into memory before he at long last settles on the upper corner of your left cheek.

His burning stare causes your heart to pound faster than it normally would, and you know that he can hear it despite the fact that his ears are nowhere near your chest. Still, you insist on not moving a muscle. Insist on being brave.

“I’m too big for ya,” he says finally, gesturing over himself with his hand. “This is all you’re gonna get after you’re done playing the ‘takin’ it slow’ game with me.”

You bristle, clearly displeased with his answer. “But I’m–”

“It doesn’t work like that,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “Believe me, I wish it would, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re only human.”

“Humans can adapt! And being one, as you’ve so kindly pointed out, I’m pretty sure I can take it,” you object, heart still going thump, thump, thump! Something tells you that this isn’t just about cheering him up anymore. “Actually, I know I can.”

If he’s fucked you like a feral animal without transforming, how off the rails can he get if he doesn’t have anything holding him back anymore?

You tense up when he gives you a harsh, almost derisive kind of laugh. Sit straighter when he says, “I’d tear you to shreds.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“The point is that I could.” The corners of his mouth twitch downwards at the horrible thought. “And that’s not something I’m willing to risk.”

You roll your eyes. “Since when are you one to say no to taking risks?”

“Since last week,” he replies. “Give or take.”

“You mean…?” A quick wave of heat washes over your face again. You went camping last week and he’d slipped into rut whilst sharing a tent with you; accidentally confessing everything that’s tied him to you ever since he’d first laid eyes on you all those years ago.

He nods. “You’d be surprised how much being with a mate can change a wolf… I’m boring as fuck now.”

“But I don’t want you to change! I love you just the way you are,” you find yourself saying. The reason must be that last cocktail you persuaded yourself into ordering and eventually drinking. It’s untied your tongue like it’s nothing but a measly shoelace.

Nevertheless…

Love.

Kiba’s breath hitches at the word, deeply-rooted emotions swelling within his broad chest, however he — very painfully — chooses not to ask to hear it again as soon as the subtle whiff of anxiety wafts over to his nose.

You’re embarrassed because of what you’ve just said. It makes his chest squeeze to the brink of pain.

“I mean–” you start, fumbling with your words. “I–”

“It’s okay,” he says, patting your knee as casually as he’s able despite the fact that the smile he gives you now seems just a smidge too tight. “I know what you meant. Now stop making it awkward or I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

Hyper-sensitive �� his touch lights your skin on fire. His palm barely moves from its initial spot, but you can feel every callus to adorn his fingers, every minuscule stroke, as well as the reassuring squeeze that makes you want to straight up jump his bones.

And fuck, it’s nice. So nice, in fact, that it persuades you to stop him when he goes to pull his hand off your leg.

“Wait… don’t.”

“Mm?”

“You can touch me.” The words roll off your tongue before you can reel them back in again, but you still decide to put on your bravest front even if your upper lip is a second away from quivering.

Short-lived surprise crosses Kiba’s face. You watch with nervous eyes as his hand falters before it eventually settles on its original spot again. He grasps it more firmly this time. Squeezes with intent instead of reassurance.

There’s a beat of unsure stillness in the air before he brings himself to ask, “Like that?”

You give him a nod, feeling a little more confident while also paying mind not to be so tense. There are so many things you have to keep track of; god, why can’t you just relax and be more like him? Everything has to be so darn complicated whenever it comes to you!

“Bunny,” he says, his tone still slightly unsure. “I thought I told you to stop making it awkward.”

Phantom lightning strikes your insides, melting them into liquid. “I’m not making it awkward.”

“‘Course you are. You’re completely stiff.” His grip tightens and it makes your eyes grow wide and your body turn even tenser in response.

His own eyes aren’t their usual chocolate brown shade when he lifts his gaze to look at you again, but they sure are dark as sin.

“See?” is all he says, a little out of breath.

“I’m not,” you insist, the sentence completely useless. Your throat feels terribly dry all of a sudden. It makes your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth. “You’re just… imagining things.”

He quirks one brow. Repeats your challenge from earlier with the same tone, “Oh, yeah?”

You bite your lip — a lame attempt to refocus. “Yeah.”

But before you know it, he uses one hand to shove you until you’re laying flat on your back, sinking deeper into the couch cushions, causing you to let out a little noise of startlement.

His head pops into your field of vision as he hovers over you now. Aside from the light that comes from the TV, the room is shrouded in darkness. It makes only half of his face visible, however you can still see the glimmer of his teeth when he smiles down at you.

“You’re still sure about me imagining things?” he asks, clasping his fingers around the fat of your thigh. “‘Cause this is looking pretty real to me.”

“Y-yes,” you reply, challenging him further. “I’m sure.”

His grin turns wolfish as he drags his gaze over your somewhat disheveled form. Across both of your collarbones, now exposed due to the thin spaghetti straps of your dress slipping off your shoulders slightly, as well as the rising hem that’s slowly showing off more and more of your legs.

He’s looking at you like he’s planning to eat you. But rather than digging in, all he does is sneer as he says, “Brave words for someone who oddly resembles a plank right now.”

Well… that certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Fuck you,” you drawl in answer, a mere hint of disappointment crossing your features — disappointment you’ll never admit to feeling. Urging your body to relax once more just so that you can prove him wrong, you instead try to focus on calming down your breathing.

However, it’s hard to do so when your best friend is literally on top of you, watching you with hungry eyes and the most complacent of smiles. Hard to do so when his fingers are now toying with the string that ties the front of your dress together and holds your tits in place. Hard to do so when—

A small gasp escapes your lips when he jabs you in the side all of a sudden.

The bridge of your nose scrunches in annoyance. When you try to stop him from repeating the action, he just takes you by the wrist and uses the chance to pin it above your head. “Don’t do that.”

“Or what?” He huffs a laugh at your weak attempt to fight back. Pokes you in the side again, making you whine. “What are you gonna do ‘bout it, hmm?”

You don’t say anything as you squirm underneath him, trying to break free from his grip, but your efforts are to no avail. He’s got you locked in tight; has even made sure to pin your other hand the same way he did the first one when you tried to use it to push him in the chest.

“C’mon, bunny,” he taunts, his smile growing, growing, growing. Gosh, he really is such a wolf, isn’t he? “Is that really the best you can do?”

“No, it’s just not fair,” you say, trying to tame your pulse. The position you’ve wound up in is making your mind wander to all sorts of things. Dirty things.

“What’s not fair?” he asks, rubbing his thumb across your wrist.

“The fact that you’re so much stronger than me and expect me to throw you off like it’s nothing,” you mumble, huffing as you look up at the spot where he’s pressing down on your wrists. “I mean, how am I supposed to do anything, when you can hold me down with just one hand?”

The way his pupils widen with obvious excitement at your statement should concern you, but you know better than to think that he’d ever actually hurt you. It’s just the predator in him playing. A side he cannot stop from slipping into the spotlight every so often. A side he feels safe enough to share with you.

He likes being described as big and overpowering. Call it a guilty pleasure.

“Try using your legs,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with want. You can still distinguish the smile in it though. “I heard bunnies are supposed to have quite a kick to ‘em.”

“I’m not an actual bunny, shut up,” you fuss, but do exactly as he says. You kick your legs…

…and end up wrapping them around his waist instead.

Flustered warmth sears your face, neck and chest all over again as your ankles lock on the small of his back seemingly by their own accord. The skirt of your dress hikes up with the movement, exposing more of your thighs; offering him a glimpse of your cutesy underwear that you didn’t think twice about wearing because you weren’t planning on starting anything with him tonight.

And yet here you are.

The rise in temperature that you’re feeling all over blazes into something more profound now. Heat gathers in your stomach. Your legs. Between them, too. Anticipation tightens your skin, bringing the blood that runs underneath it to an angry simmer.

Kiba’s smile slowly fades when he senses the particular tension that now riddles the air around you. You stare at each other even if it’s hard for you and easy for him. For fuck’s sake, it feels like he’s burning holes into your fucking forehead when he looks at you like that.

“What is it?” you ask, nerves working overtime. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”

“You smell so fucking good when you’re turned on, did you know that?” he rasps in answer, completely ignoring your question and pitiful attempt at diffusing the situation. His nose is already leading him to that very tender spot hiding in the crook of your neck.

You flinch when he nudges your jawline, silently asking you for permission to give him more space. Not trusting the lump of nervosity that’s taken up residency inside your throat to not betray you all of a sudden, you allow it wordlessly and by angling your head slightly to the right.

“Your scent is so… I can smell how wet your cunt is even from here, god,” he trails off without an ounce of shame, every word lower and lower in tone. He takes another deep breath. Savours it with a soft groan. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”

Embarrassment flashes through you like lightning does a stormy sky. The realization that he can immediately pick up on the scent of your arousal — as well as the aftermath that the ability brings — is overwhelming.

It makes your heart thrum even faster than it did before. Consequently, your thoughts are now nothing more but a jumbled mess as you desperately attempt to tame your pulse back into a rhythm that’s normal instead of completely erratic.

But it’s not just you who’s having a hard time. The muscles in Kiba’s arms have gone completely stiff and his inhales are deep and audible instead of calm. He only pauses them to press cautious little kisses over your neck, most of which he eventually starts mixing with even smaller nips with the help of his teeth.

You’re pouring with sweat because of it. His apartment is warm, too warm even if it didn’t feel like that before, and his mouth is hot just like his tongue is as it repeatedly presses against your sweet spot. The action even causes goosebumps to appear all over your arms and legs. Great.

“Relax,” he mumbles, the tip of his nose practically smushed against your neck. “We’ve done this before.”

“What makes you think that we’ll do it again?” you hiss, fighting tooth and nail to appear authoritative. It doesn’t come off as strongly as you want it to, though.

“Call it a hunch,” he says, unable to resist a smirk. “Or whatever.”

Your lips remain a firm line. Unimpressed. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Sure am,” he trails off with a lazy grin as his fingers brush the side of your neck. He looks at you. And winks. “You can be too, if you wanna. Full of me, I mean.”

“N-no?! The hell,” you splutter out, squirming even more. Sly motherfucker, damn him. “I thought I told you-”

“Relax! C’mon,” he repeats, huffing another laugh. “You know damn well that I’m just fucking with you, sorry, messing… No need to lecture me all the time.”

You roll your eyes. “You say that as if you can actually be lectured in the first place.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Did it ever cross that naggy mind of yours that I don’t listen to you because I don’t want to, and not because I can’t?”

“Oh yeah, many times,” you reply, glaring at him. “Drives my naggy mind crazy.”

He muses like a satisfied cat at your statement. “You drive me crazy.”

“Stop hitting on me!” Your entire face scrunches up in annoyance. “Sweet talking isn’t gonna get you laid.”

“Then what will?” He drags his tongue along your pulse point. Blows air on the trail of saliva so that he can watch you writhe at the cold sensation to overcome you, then. “You want me to chase you around a lil’ bit first? Play a little game of prey versus predator with ya to get you to sit on my dick tonight?”

A small groan of agitation is the best you can do when it comes to answering his taunting.

“Or do you want me to really work for it, hmm, bunny?” His grip tightens around your wrists. As if to serve as a reminder. “Even though, judging by how you’re lookin’ right now, I could just take it all for myself either way?”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. “You wouldn’t.”

His upper lip curls, revealing those sharp canine teeth again. “Yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t.”

But he could.

Still, your breaths continue to intermingle. Doubt gets overridden by lust. Hands explore; one pair of them courageous as it can be, the other perfectly timid in contrast. The former even uses that courage to hike the hem of your dress up to your waist, completely exposing your lower half amidst all the grinding and writhing that’s slowly, but surely, coming into fruition.

Kiba looks like he’s already won as he leers between your legs with that obnoxiously knowing glint in his eye and the equally as infuriating half-smile.

He seems to be aware that you’re trying your absolute hardest not to react to the obvious bulge that’s in his sweatpants now. That you’re trying to ignore the rushing thrill that surges through you whenever he presses it against your traitor of a cunt — which still hides under the plain cotton panties you apparently swore you wouldn’t let him see tonight.

So he pushes it against you again. And again. Applying pressure, rubbing, testing out the playing field, waiting for you to tell him to stop.

You don’t though. No, all you do is bite your lip in order to suppress the moan that’s impatiently waiting behind your clenched teeth and wiggle your hips whenever the hot contact strikes.

“Fuck, you’re so cute.” He can’t hide how entertained he is as he mumbles, “You want my cock? ‘Cause I’ll more than gladly give it to ya.”

A low hiss slips past your lips when his hard-on manages to bump your clit over the layers of clothes. It makes your brows furrow and your legs squeeze around his waist even tighter.

“I didn’t–” You pause to close your eyes and inhale a rather wobbly breath. By the time you open them again, he’s already staring right back. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, his own eyes flashing with what you think could be pride. “I can already tell from how fuckin’ soaked you are... Look.”

He reaches down between you then, running a single knuckle down your clothed slit. Your hips buck in answer to the touch almost immediately; the damp patch that’s formed on your underwear now turning more noticeable, shaping the outline of your pussy even further.

It makes him yearn to tug your panties to the side so that he can feel the slick coating his fingers before he can push them into your tight little hole, but he knows you’ll cause a fuss and close up on him if he moves even a smidge too quickly for your liking.

Still, the sight nearly makes him drool. His cock twitches. Starts to physically ache with need. It’s not as bad as it was during his rut last week, but fuck… this entire stage of foreplay and trying to lure you into pound town could be a close second, he can’t lie.

“Do you always get this wet whenever someone touches you,” he finds himself asking, “or is all of this just f’me?”

He hopes it’s the latter. Wants it so bad. The mere thought of someone else seeing you like this, touching you, spreading their scent all over you, claiming you, loving you… He’d let you go if you wanted to be with someone other than him, he’s told you so before, but that doesn’t mean that he’d be particularly happy about it.

Actually, he’d be quite miserable. Excruciatingly so.

You give him a pointed glare, face stern. He’s received the same look from you so many times over the years that he’s grown to love it, but you don’t fail to notice how his smile tightens with each passing moment that he waits for you to answer his question.

“Well?” he pushes, unable to resist. His eyes are getting more yellow by the second and his teeth are getting bigger. It makes his voice sound gruff as he says, “Who’s it for, bunny, mm?”

“I’m not telling you,” you say quietly, trying to make sense of all the emotions that are swelling up inside your chest now.

It’s a challenge to do so when they’ve been continuously swept under the rug for years on end and have only just recently been brought back into the open, though. When you’re unsure where your friendship stands. When you don’t even know if the love that your best friend feels for you is actually genuine, or if it’s just a thing that’s been forced forward solely because of the mating bond that eternally connects him to you.

You can’t help but wonder: would he still love you the same way he loves you now even if you weren’t his mate? If he were nothing more but a simple human, unable to connect with someone on such a deep biological level. Would he still fall for you — his best friend?

Or would he still be with his now ex-girlfriend, surely renting an apartment with her and exchanging doting glances and smiles during breakfast every morning, mind completely free from you the second you’d leave for college after every summer?

Would he even be your friend?

What if you’re just a burden to him?

“Hey.”

The sudden pinch that you receive to your left cheek tugs you out of your inner turmoil that has come to plague you all of a sudden.

Kiba’s eyebrows are cinched tight when you blink up at him. A small wrinkle of worry etches into his forehead and continues to deepen with the heavy silence to surround you. Even his jaw seems to be set firmly in place.

Instead of hot and bothered, he just looks plain worried now despite the gleam of sweat on his brow and the almost sex hair.

“Mm?” is all you decide to let out whilst rubbing your wrists that he’s since let go of.

“You okay?” he asks, choosing to stroke your cheek instead of pinching it this time around. The pads of his fingers are rough, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. “You’ve completely zoned out on me just now.”

“I’m fine,” you say, despite that your chest remains feeling unbearably tight. The urge to touch it as a means to console yourself is hard to suppress, however you’re well aware that it’d just cause him to worry even further. “Sorry.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you smell kind of sad all of a sudden,” he mumbles, wolf eyes still zeroing in on you. He’s following every minuscule movement you make and it’s unnerving. “And I don’t know about you, but that definitely ain’t a thing a dude would want his girl to feel when he’s planning on sinking balls deep into her.”

“Sad?” you repeat, ignoring the lewd comment even if it makes you feel tingly between your legs. His cock, albeit not as hard anymore, is still persistently pressing against your pussy.

“Yeah,” he says. “Kind of like rain.”

This fascinates you. Your expression lightens as a result. “You mean like petrichor?”

He gives you somewhat of a dumb look, biting the inside of his cheek. “What?”

“Never mind, it’s just something dorky we learned in school,” you say, chuckling faintly at the confused puzzlement that now sits on his face. “Forget I said anything.”

He doesn’t respond, so you sigh, running your palm over the side of your neck he’d just been kissing a moment prior. The skin there is still warm. Tender. It makes you shiver when your fingers graze it.

“C’mon, what’s wrong?” he mutters, still eyeing you just as intensely as before. “I can tell whenever something’s bothering you… Spit it out.”

“Nothing is bothering me, okay? Gosh,” you try to reassure him, but still turn your head to the side to stare at the television.

The movie he’d put on earlier is already halfway through and you doubt he has the option to rewind it. Oh, well.

Watching you dismiss the entire thing, Kiba looks like he’s about to fight you on it, surely getting ready to accuse you of being a liar like he’s had a habit of playfully doing in the past. However, just when his mouth pops open to say the words, you prevent him from doing so by pressing both of your palms on his front and gathering up his T-shirt between your fingers.

He stills only for a second before he starts to push out his chest at your touch, puffing up with male-like bravado as he goes. His shoulders square up. His eyes flash with that sublime yellow colour. And you might be imagining the whole thing at this point, but you swear that even his scent grows stronger in intensity.

The entire room is engulfed by that signature amber scent now. You peer up at him once more, mind slightly hazy and astounded.

But besides the astonishment, you also feel… soothed. Kind of.

Burden or no burden, he’s down bad for you all the same, isn’t he?

“What is it now?” he grumbles in answer to the wide look in your eyes. “You’re starin’ at me all weird-like again.”

You swallow the saliva that’s gathered in your mouth for what must be the millionth time tonight. It’s runny and thin, laced with adrenaline. “Are you courting me right now?”

“Huh?” His face twists into a look of pure confusion for a second time in a row.

“You’re pushing your chest out like a bird during one of those mating dances that you see on TV,” you explain, tugging on his T-shirt as if it’ll help you prove your point. “Are you trying to impress me or something?”

“Tsch… What? No... It’s just, ah… The fuck?” He blinks, shaking his head as if he’s trying to get his thoughts in order. His back hunches slightly with the action. You’ve caught him completely off guard.

You smile. “What is it, then?”

“It’s just my body reacting to a mate’s touch, damn… I told you about it in the woods last week, didn’t I? What’s with all the questions all of a sudden?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth once more, apparently unaffected by what you have to say, but also immediately draws back; causing distance until he’s lying between you and the backrest of the couch instead of on top of you.

You’re not aware of it, but he’s beginning to blush like a sucker after he realizes how that treacherously primal part of his brain had made him react just now — fully without his knowledge.

Trying to appear bigger and wooing you with his scent? What are you, animals? Besides, you aren’t even capable of distinguishing pheromones like he can, for fuck’s sake! What’s he doing all of this weird shit for?!

This time, heat continues to climb up Kiba’s neck instead of yours, and overtakes his entire face with such speed that it makes his cheeks itchy. Even the tips of his ears have turned hot to the touch. He feels like he’s on the verge of melting into a puddle of despair any second now.

Gosh, you must think he’s such a loser.

He doesn’t say anything else as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer until your back is pressed against his chest, feeling slightly relieved to not hear any protests from your side.

But to some extent, he’s not all that surprised. While you might be taking this entire thing slow, spooning is nothing new. You’ve done it even whilst you were both desperately trying to keep your friendship as something purely platonic instead of whatever it is now. So when you compare it to all the grinding that you did just now, this is angel city.

His voice is barely above a sheepish murmur as he says, “Whatever… Let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

You don’t mention that the film is nearing its end and that you’ve already seen it in theaters a couple months ago with your friends from college. Nor the fact that you found his little portrayal of desire — as well as the feeling of embarrassment that followed it afterwards — outright adorable and that it helped ease your worries a little bit.

No, all you do is snuggle up closer to him and nod your head yes.

———

Summer passes by quickly when you’re reunited with your best friend again.

If you had to describe the last couple of months with one word, it’d be nostalgic. During the days when he’s off work and you’re not busy with your family, Kiba makes sure to take you on a trip down memory lane one way or another.

On some evenings, you drop by the small convenience store that you used to constantly occupy as kids, so that you can buy popsicles and then sit on a bench in the nearby park; taking turns licking the different flavours and talking late into the night, or at least until the artificial colouring has been wiped away from your tongues.

On particularly hot days, you drive to the lake where you’ve both been taught how to swim by your parents in order to cool off, and compete to see who's able to hold their breath the longest. He ends up being the winner almost every time, of course, and never misses the chance to rub it in your face.

You even still do shitty movie marathons, however this time they’re occasionally accompanied by Kiba’s roommate, Kankuro, who you’ve since learned is a pretty cool guy, despite his slightly odd obsession with purple face paint. He’s also the one who’d helped you bake Kiba’s birthday cake back in July.

All in all, things concerning your best friend have remained quite the same as they’ve always been. Well, most of them did.

There may have been a couple of changes here and there ever since you’ve learned you were his mate.

Some are pretty tame. For example, you can’t brush over the look of pure longing that appears in his eyes as he watches you lick a rogue droplet of sugar whenever you’re sucking on the popsicle he’d just handed you. Or the way his touch lingers on your shoulders and traces down your spine and hips when you ask him to help you apply sunscreen on your back after your swim.

But then there are some of the more twisted kind. Sometimes, whenever Kankuro can’t make it to your movie marathons, you also can’t ignore the way your best friend sighs and grunts and whispers the nastiest of profanities into the side of your neck as you sit on his lap and rub your clothed pussy against the hard-on in his pants.

It’s always done the same way. On his couch, in the dark, and never talked about afterwards since it tends to make you both agitated with even more lust. Your skirt is bunched up in his too-big hands — you’re always making sure they don’t go any farther than that because they try, oh boy, do they try — and there are zero kisses exchanged between you in order to keep things moving slow but still giving him the fix he needs so that he doesn’t slip into another unannounced rut, as he likes to call it.

So far, your compromise shows promise. Over the span of the last couple of weeks, there had only been one single occasion of actual skin on skin contact; when he’d somehow managed to distract you for long enough to pull your panties to the side and pull out his cock from the confines of his clothes without you being quick enough to stop him.

However, much to his — and secretly your own — misfortune, you’d been mewling his name and rubbing your pussy against him for a long while back then, consequently overstimulating him to great, almost unfair lengths in the process. The second his cockhead had gotten the chance to bump against your soaked entrance, he was not bound to last.

So he’d spilled everything he had with a sharp hiss and a frustrated “fuuuck” and just like that, you were safe from being pounded into oblivion once again — if you exclude the sticky, cloudy white mess splattering between your thighs, that is.

And that was that.

But now, with summer coming to a swift end and a new school year waiting right around the corner, the time has come for you to say goodbye to your best friend once again.

Kiba accompanies you to the airport and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug when it’s time for you to board your flight, his features unusually impassive during the entirety of it. He leans down to kiss your cheek, surely receiving curious glances from your parents with the act, and mumbles something about texting him when you land so that he knows you’re safe.

You do as he asks of you when you arrive to campus that day, even going as far as to send him a picture of your little student apartment that you share with two other roommates, jokingly calling it a dump. He reads your text message almost instantly, but his reply is curt. When you call him to say good night after you’ve finished unpacking your stuff and settling in, you barely recognize the sound of his voice.

“G’night,” he mutters. “Try not to be a dumbass on your first day.”

The jab is meant to be playful, but instead it comes across as void of any kind of emotion whatsoever. Flat and unlively. You can tell even if he desperately tries to cover it up with more teasing remarks and lame jokes.

It gets better over time, though. You’re well aware that he’s handling the distance way worse than any other regular human would, especially since he’s a semi-mated wolf now, so you try to keep him in the loop as often as you can. He, on the other hand, tries to give you space and keeps his more possessive side on a tight leash. His main priority is to make your friendship — or should you say situationship — work.

Speaking of his more possessive side, you’ve both made precautions to lessen the chance of the beast within him from going haywire. He makes sure to go completely off the grid during a full moon, and every so often, you mail him a T-shirt or two so that he still has a way of inhaling your scent and thus satisfying the urge to come seek you out. After the scent fades out, he sends your clothes back washed, but not ironed; typical for a man like him, before the cycle repeats itself again.

He’d once, jokingly, not so jokingly, texted you about sending him a pair of your panties instead, however all he got in response to that was an angry wall of text and a series of pissed off-looking emojis. He’d abandoned the idea soon after.

You do indulge him with phone sex from time to time, though. And while you do keep telling yourself that it’s done solely to keep him in-check, deep down, you know that that simply isn’t the case.

Because when the hour is late, Kiba likes to remind you just how badly he misses you in that warm, rich, confident voice that makes your back want to straight up arch from the bed. Likes to talk about all the things that he wants to do to you with zero hesitance — hesitance you wish you, yourself didn’t have — while he strokes his cock; all until you find yourself reaching into the drawer of your nightstand so that you can hurriedly press your trusty pink vibrator to your clit.

But it’s not just you who finds him hot — your roommates do, too. They’ve peered over your shoulder once or twice while you were FaceTiming him in the kitchen, fully clothed, of course, and have since been asking for regular updates on your so-called ‘boyfriend’, wondering when they’ll get to meet the guy who’s actually managed to swipe the rug from underneath your feet, in person.

And the answer is: on Halloween. They’ll meet him on Halloween.

———

Oddly enough, Kiba seems to fit right into the college party scene, despite never pursuing a degree of his own.

After successfully planning out his visit together, you realize that the frat house that you’ve dragged him to in order to celebrate this year’s Halloween in, is packed with people; some of them in costumes, while the rest have decided to go for a more casual approach.

Dressed in jeans, the same faded baseball cap that you saw him wearing back when you’d bumped into him in the grocery store at the beginning of summer, and a simple T-shirt and flannel combo, your best friend doesn’t particularly stand out amongst the latter.

He’d landed this morning, grinning tiredly and with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. You nearly started bursting at the seams with joy the second you caught sight of him halfway across the airport. He wasn’t much better.

Hugging out all your emotions first, you then spent the entire day catching up, as well as healing the phantom wounds that the distance had caused. It was nice. So nice, in fact, that you’d almost forgotten how easy and complicated it was at the same time with him.

And now here you are. Together again.

Eyes glimmering with fondness, you watch as he leisurely chats with your friends who he’d already gotten to meet back at the apartment. As is expected for an extrovert like Kiba, he has no problem keeping up with the conversation.

His body language is relaxed even when he has to lie about wearing yellow contacts; swiftly feigning that it’s because he wants to keep the spirit of Halloween alive and because he, of course, couldn’t possibly have brought a full costume with him to the airport.

Meanwhile, you’re well aware that his reasoning couldn’t be farther from the truth. His eyes had shifted from their regular brown shade the second he’d caught you emerging from the bathroom, dressed in a pair of tight jeans and with a bunny ears headband sitting atop your head — a rather mediocre choice of a costume, but one that you knew he’d dig nonetheless.

“What, no heels?”

“Have you seen the floor of a frat house before?”

“No.”

“Well, you’re going to now, and then you’re going to understand why I chose normal girl shoes.”

While riddled with mischief at your answer, his eyes haven’t gone back to normal since.

And neither has he. No, instead he had spent a good twenty minutes scenting you in the privacy of your little bedroom; embracing you and running his rough hands up and down your arms and sides, touching your neck and face all over until you were almost late to the party and glittery highlighter coated every last one of his fingers.

“You do realize that normal people don’t have a heightened sense of smell like you do, right?” you’d grumbled by the fourth repetitive stroke, making a face when he even went as far as to lean in and start rubbing his cheek against your own. “Nobody is going to be like, ‘Woah, watch out! This one smells like werewolf property!’ if I get kidnapped or something.”

The laughter-like sound he’d let out had come across as terribly jeering. “You say that like anyone would even have a chance of forcibly taking you away from me.”

With a soft incline of your head, you had asked, “Wouldn’t they?”

“‘Course not, you silly bunny.” He’d looked you right in the eyes then, his pupils briefly thinning into feline-like slits, allowing the apex predator within to shine on through. “I’d rip out their throats with my teeth before they’d even get a chance to blink. Easy as pie.”

His gaze had been shiver-inducing. The words even more so. “But what if there would be like… ten of them?”

“I can take on ten people.”

“You can barely handle me whenever I’m in a lousy mood.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that you don’t count, then.” The grin he’d given you in return had been sharp. Too sharp, despite the cutesy dimple digging into his cheek. Especially as he held your face between his palms and purred, “Also, you’re not my property, you’re my mate. It’s supposed to make us equals, so please try to act like one for my sake, yeah?”

And they said romance was dead.

“Yeah.” Attempting to not pay attention to the butterflies that were wildly fluttering in your stomach again, all you managed was, “Equals who are going to be late.”

“Shit.” His eyes got wide as saucers at that. He’d given one last stroke, one last squeeze, and had pressed a hasty kiss onto your forehead before saying, “Okay, I think I’m done... Ready when you are.”

You’re unsure if it’s placebo, but you think his scent still clings to you even two hours later, when the party is in full swing and you’re chatting away with one of your guy friends in the kitchen.

Besides said friend, there are only two other people in the room — none of which you can recognize, from the way they’re too busy eating face only a few meters away from you. Kiba, reluctant to leave your side despite your many reassurances, had somehow gotten dragged into a round of beer pong by a group of rowdy jocks.

Every so often, you can hear cheering coming from one of the rooms nearby. You don’t doubt that he’s acquired quite a crowd for himself already. His dream and your worst nightmare.

“So, what’s the deal with you and the dunce?”

Blinking at the sudden question that whisks away your brain fog, you look up from your plastic cup of cranberry juice that others have been using to mix their cheap vodka with. Not feeling like taking the risk of being hungover because of particularly shitty booze the next morning, you’d decided to stay sober tonight, hence the juice.

“Sorry, what?” you ask. “I wasn’t listening.”

Your friend, Shikamaru Nara is his name, looks at you with signature exasperation at having to repeat himself again.

“I was asking about your… friend,” he mutters after a brief pause, using the second chance of you not hearing the initial jab.

“Oh, you mean Kiba?” you say, bringing the cup up to your lips. “Yeah, what about him?”

“Are you hooking up with him?”

The sip of cranberry juice you’d just taken lodges itself into the back of your throat at the question. It hurts like a bitch as you fight to swallow it down, unable to resist squeezing your eyes shut at the sensation, however you manage to avoid sputtering and coughing yourself into embarrassment by the end of it.

Clearing your throat as discreetly as you can, your voice sounds slightly hoarse when you ask, “Why do you ask that?”

Shikamaru, without missing a beat, says, “I dunno, he just looks at you like he’s planning on eating you or something. It’s odd.”

You glance up at the man that’s leaning against the kitchen counter next to you, noticing how the whites of his eyes are red instead of as the name suggests. His pupils are so big and round and hazy that they remind you of a cat looking around in the dark. He seems to be so high that he doesn’t have a problem with saying whatever is on his mind.

Either that, or he simply doesn’t give a shit. Both are valid reasonings whenever it comes to him.

“Kiba’s just… protective,” you manage to say after a brief moment of thought, shoulders shrugging. “He’s been like that ever since I can remember.”

Shikamaru’s eyebrow raises at this piece of information. “Even when you were kids?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nod vehemently. “Back then, it was even more intense than it is now, I think. You should have seen him playing a friendly game of dodgeball when we were in high school.”

‘HEY! AIM THAT BALL AT HER HEAD AGAIN, AND I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL SMASH YOUR FUCKING TEETH IN NEXT, YOU LOUSY FUCK!’

The memory makes the corners of your lips curl upwards. You’re quick to hide the smile behind the rim of the cup.

“Hm.” Shikamaru hums, puffing out a tired sigh that you’ve had the pleasure of hearing countless of times ever since meeting him during your first year of college.

“What is it?” you inquire.

“Nothing,” he replies. “Just thinking.”

“You’re always doing that,” you say. “Thinking.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he answers, giving you a lazy grin that doesn’t seem to reach his dark brown eyes.

You huff a laugh at the tease. “And what is it that you’re thinking about with that brilliant brain of yours, Megamind?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah.”

You turn to look at him, using the chance to drag your gaze over his side profile. Over his high cheekbones, as well as the sharp outline of his nose. The cigarette that’s tucked behind his ear. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows that tells you he’s thinking very hard about something.

A couple of loose strands of dark brown hair have escaped his ponytail, framing his face in a way that flatters him greatly. Being so dark, they’re a perfect contrast to his creamy skin that’s so unlike Kiba’s sun-kissed one.

Come to think of it, they’re nothing alike. Shikamaru is lean in build despite being awfully lazy by nature, whereas Kiba packs muscle with hard work. He’s smart, rational, not at all prone to anger, and can sometimes come across as borderline aloof.

Besides a couple of other things, all he seems to care about is putting in the minimal amount of effort when it comes to getting by in school, so that he can achieve mediocre — but passable — grades, and thus has nothing left to worry about by the time the weekend rolls around and the bong comes out to play.

His tendency to be overly laid-back was the exact reason why you had decided to go out of your comfort zone and fool around with him last spring. With no strings attached, you’d fucked while still managing to remain friends afterwards. Besides that, he was such a perfect opposite to the man you’d left behind in your hometown, that it had almost been a, dare you say, refreshing experience.

But Kiba never did go fully away, now did he? Not even after you’d completely ghosted him and finally ceased stalking him on Instagram; trying to rid yourself of the sinking feeling in your chest that appeared whenever he posted a picture with his girlfriend at the time. Not even after you’d deleted the chat logs you shared with him on just about every app you could find, knowing you’d regret it afterwards. Not even when you’d left the pictures and other memories back at home, sealed away in a box underneath your bed.

You’d been sleeping with the deer while silently yearning for the wolf.

It’s why you broke the entire thing off with Shikamaru sometime after the New Year, aiming to rather try and move on solely by your own efforts — fresh start and everything. All whilst not knowing that you’d become a mate to your childhood best friend by the end of summer.

“Shika,” you utter, your gaze as soft as your voice. “I–”

“It’s okay. I think I got the gist of it,” he cuts in, staring at his shoes. “Whatever it is that you two have going on between you; it’s older than what we had. So, it’s more… fleshed out? From being best friends since kindergarten and stuff.”

“Yeah.” You sigh, angling your cup so that you can take the last sip of your drink. “I guess it is, when you say it like that.��

Shikamaru reaches out to wipe away the rogue droplet of cranberry juice that comes sliding down from the corner of your mouth, then. However, before his thumb can even make contact with your bottom lip, you’re quick to do it yourself.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” a voice calls out from your left.

Kiba’s jaw is set and his eyes are hard when you turn to look at him. He stands in the middle of the doorway that leads into the hall; the light that’s shining behind his back obscuring most of his face from view, however you can still see that he forces his expression to remain fairly neutral as he begins to approach you.

Every step he takes towards you makes you feel like it could make the ground shake. It doesn’t of course, at least not in a physical kind of sense, but his anger is becoming so palpable the closer he gets that it very much could. For some reason, it’s even worse that he’s trying to hide how pissed he is.

After all, Kiba is prone to anger that resembles a wildfire — the kind that spreads quickly and consumes everything in its path. Once it’s started, it’s hard to make it fizzle out before it does too much damage. You just have to let it do its thing and pretend like everything is normal.

Burn, baby, burn!

“No,” you say when he reaches you, pretending like the entire ordeal doesn’t faze you at all, despite the fact that your heart is now pulsating wildly in your chest. “You aren’t.”

You’re well aware that he wouldn’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean the others are safe.

He stands before you like a wall of muscle, emitting white-hot rage with every exhale. With how tense his shoulders have gotten, as well as the bulging vein in the side of his neck that’s surely there because of how harshly he’s gritting his teeth, he looks like he could crush someone to death.

However, his touch ends up being surprisingly tender when you allow him to grip you by the chin. You repress a relieved chuckle as he angles your head back slightly, making you realize that he’s touching the exact same spot Shikamaru would have if you’d let him. So possessive.

His brow furrows as he inspects you and his voice is rough as gravel as he says, “Why are your lips so red?”

“Cranberry juice,” you explain, pointing to the empty cup you’re still holding in your hand. “How did beer pong go?”

“It sucked ass,” he drawls, tugging on the brim of his hat with impatient fingers. The fireball of anger keeps on sizzling in the pit of his stomach. It makes his blood run hot. “The two dudes I went against were both so shit-faced that they could barely stand, much less score... I regret being sober.”

“Weren’t you drinking before, though?” Shikamaru asks all of a sudden.

Uh-oh. At the sound of the Nara’s voice, you watch as he slowly turns his head to the side in the same uncanny way a robot would have done.

Kiba looks the other man right in the eye, making a quick mental note to keep both of his arms glued to his sides in order to refrain himself from swinging just because he even had the balls to speak up while he was talking to you.

Jesus fucking Christ, since when did his temper get this short? He needs to work on it in the future or else it’s going to become a problem.

“Beer doesn’t do much for a guy like me,” he grits out after a brief moment of recollecting himself.

His tone is completely flat. Icy.

You stare at the muscle that keeps on fluttering in his cheek even if he’s trying his hardest to tame it. At how yellow his eyes have gotten, nearly glowing in the dimly-lit kitchen, threatening to ruin the ruse of being contacts. At the way his chest heaves; rising up and down in such a manner that it makes you fear he’s seconds away from pouncing.

Shikamaru, being the intelligent man that he is, must have come to the same conclusion, because now he pushes from the counter with an awkward bounce in his step as he says, “Well, I guess it’s time for my smoke break… If you’ll excuse me.”

Either that, or the more primal part of his brain is telling him to get the fuck out before it’s too late. It’s so bad that even the make out enthusiasts proceed to follow his example.

“Bye, Shika,” you utter quickly, giving your fellow classmate a small wave when he passes by. Meanwhile, Kiba only stares, probably drilling warning holes into the poor guy’s back all the way to the very end of the hall.

Alone in the kitchen at long last, your best friend allows himself to sigh as a means to relieve some tension. The muscles in his arms relax as he rests them on either side of you, successfully trapping you against the counter.

You don’t feel caged, though. That’s the important part.

Led by that comforting feeling, you place the cup onto the counter before reaching out to carefully stroke him over the chest. “You okay?”

“No,” he grumbles, trying not to preen right in front of you at the touch.

Your eyebrows draw together. “What’s wrong?”

His do, too. “You know damn well what’s wrong.”

“Enlighten me, please.”

“Not that it’s a you problem or anything…” He sighs again and this time the sound is way longer than earlier. “But I can’t leave ya alone for two seconds without someone immediately trying to sneak their way into your pants.”

“What?” The laugh you let out is a slightly incredulous one. “I know that you’re forced to see me in some kind of holy light because of the mating bond, but you’re seriously flattering me way too much with this one, Kiba.”

“Well, it’s the truth,” he says, his lips thinning into a firm line. “What do you think that the douchebag with the cig and the big-ass forehead was tryin’ to do just now? Ask you to join his debate club?”

You push aside the insult for now, making a note to prohibit him from saying it aloud whenever you’re in the company of others. “His name is Shikamaru.”

“I don’t care what his name is,” Kiba says, bristling. “All I know is that I could smell how hard his dick was getting around you from a mile away, and it made me-”

“Jealous?” you cut in.

He frowns. “I was gonna say grossed out, but sure.”

You giggle before biting your lip to stop the sound. “Come to think of it, that does sound pretty gross, you’re right.”

“Whatever.” He huffs, lowering his gaze. It’s not long before there’s an even deeper frown gracing his mouth.

“What is it now?” you ask.

“Nothing. Well… I just- Ugh.” He groans in frustration, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know I said that I’d always respect your decision when it came down to choosin’ between me or someone else, but I didn’t think it’d be this… hard.”

“What are you going on about?” You pry his hand away so that you can look him in the eyes. His pupils are nothing but slits. “I haven't made any kind of decision yet. Nothing happened.”

“Okay, but still… Seeing someone else trying to touch you like that, scenting it…” he says. “I thought I could handle it for your sake, but clearly that ain’t the case. I should’ve cooled off before trying to start shit, and yet I actively chose to behave like a dick instead.”

“Actually, I thought you did a pretty decent job at controlling your awfully jealous self. Give or take,” you console, giving him a playful wink. It only causes his brow to furrow further.

“That’s not the point. Jealousy might be all fun and games to regular people, but it’s different with me. I felt like I was seconds away from skinning the dude alive… And maybe eating him afterwards, I dunno,” he says, his expression turning even more troubled than before. “Bet he’d taste like shit, though.”

“Well… What matters is that you didn’t do that.” You pat his shoulders as a form of encouragement and quickly decide on not telling him about your history with Shikamaru just yet since you’re not particularly fond of the idea of having a body on your hands. “One step at a time, yeah?”

“I guess,” he mutters. Disappointment still continues to bubble in Kiba’s stomach. It brings forth a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.

You stare at him, raking your gaze over the great expanse of his shoulders, down to his forearms, which he’s got revealed due to the sleeves being rolled up to his elbows. Now that the initial anger has diminished from his face, he just looks plain miserable. Like a puppy that’s been soaked to the bone, despite that he’s far bigger than that.

“You wanna go home and cuddle it out?” you blurt out all of a sudden, tracing the tattoos on his left forearm with your index finger.

He peers up at you from underneath his lashes. Not wanting to come across as even more clingy or suffocating, all he utters is, “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m asking you.”

He looks down again, bright yellow eyes zeroing in on his shoes. If it weren’t so dark in this godforsaken kitchen, perhaps you would’ve noticed the subtle blush tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“I mean… If you really don’t wanna stay here,” he trails off, swallowing thickly. “Then, yeah. I suppose we could go back to yours and cuddle a little.”

You grin. “Look at you getting all mushy on me.”

Kiba gives you an eye roll. “Oh, shut up before I change my mind and just catch the first flight home.”

———

Despite initially not wanting to seem clingy, Kiba becomes exactly that after you both rinse off and clamber into bed that night.

In the dark, surrounded fully by your scent that lingers everywhere in your room, he feels safe enough to let his guard down; allowing himself to really dote on you properly — like he’s wanted to do for the last two months.

As a result, his arm is protectively slung over your waist, and his legs are entangled with yours as he spoons you. His hand is beneath your shirt, tracing soft, lazy circles over your stomach. There are no claws in sight.

“God, I’ve missed this,” he grumbles at some point, sighing with contentment and squeezing you even closer to him.

“Me too,” you admit, enjoying the close proximity. “Especially our dumb late night convos.”

You’ve been talking about everything and nothing in particular for the last hour or so; giggling and snickering like children and continuing on catching up, simply enjoying each other’s company. Just like old times.

Kiba clicks his tongue against his teeth in disagreement. “What d’you mean? They’re always dumb.”

“Well yeah, but that’s because they include you,” you tease, suppressing a tiny squeal when he pokes you in the side.

“As far as I know, it takes two to hold a conversation,” he fires back, squeezing your hip. “Unless you’re a nutcase, that is.”

“Hey, now… I talk to myself sometimes,” you say, turning your head to the side just enough to face him. “When I’m, like, thinking out loud and stuff.”

He quirks a brow at this. “Weirdo.”

“Pfsh.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “If anyone’s the weirdo here, then it’d be you, Mr. On all levels except physical, I am a wolf.”

“See, that doesn’t make any sense because I am a wolf on a physical level.” He drums his fingers against your skin playfully, hinting that he’ll maybe poke you in the side again. “Therefore, your joke sucks.”

“It’s still funny, though,” you protest. “And look at you, using your big boy words. Therefore. What’s gonna be next? Begging for a shilling?”

You watch as he smiles that wretched grin that shows off his dimple. His laugh is quiet, but it kindles a flame of affection inside your heart.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that?” he says, still laughing.

“So I’ve been told, yeah,” you reply with a beaming smile of your own. His mood is contagious. “Multiple times.”

“Mm. I like it, though. This more confident, outgoing version of you.” After a brief moment of silence, he adds, “It makes me less worried.”

You ask, “Less worried about what?”

“If you’ll be able to stick up for yourself in case I’m not around,” he explains, not offering much more.

You blink as slight confusion begins to settle in. “And why wouldn’t you be around?”

“Well, you know,” he says, shrugging as a means to appear indifferent, but failing. “If you decide on being with someone other than me, then I guess there’d be no reason for me to stay in your life.”

“What do you mean there’d be no reason?” you say, frowning deeply now. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware that the thing you say next is selfish, but you just can’t help it, “You’d still be my best friend… Wouldn’t that be enough?”

He smiles again, but this time it’s a little less beaming and a little more painful. “Bunny, of course it’d be enough. I’d spend my whole life trying to give ya the love that I think you deserve, even as just a friend. But let’s be real here… If I did that, it’d just cause… problems.”

“Problems?” you repeat, your voice hurt. “What kind of problems?”

“You’ve seen for yourself what happened tonight,” he says.

“Nothing happened tonight.” Quick frustration makes you groan. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve told you that already, so why are we going over the same conversation again?”

“Exactly, nothing happened, but look at the way I still reacted to it,” he says, sighing out of exasperation instead of contentment this time around. “I was ready to go batshit crazy over nothing… How do you think I’m gonna react if we meet up and you’ve got your boyfriend’s scent all over ya? Who says I’m not gonna go and try to bite the guy’s head off?”

You stare at each other. The knot in your belly tightens at the way he looks at you; his eyes still burning with that striking yellow shade, despite the inner conflict that subdues it ever so slightly now.

“Do you think we were destined to be together?” you ask out of the blue.

Kiba gives you a look that tells you he’s starting to worry if you’ve gone a bit nuts. “What?”

“I mean, like, do you think that we had no say in this entire thing,” you attempt to explain lamely. “Or, well… that you had no say in it?”

“I don’t believe in destiny,” he says finally.

“Well, what would you call this thing between us, then?” you mumble. “I mean, isn’t a mating bond supposed to be just some kind of a wolfy version of it?”

“I- No, I don’t think so,” he says, slowly shaking his head. “I already told you that I approached you because of the bond at first, yeah… But over the years, I’m pretty sure that I’ve come to love you on purpose. Like, on my own terms.”

Your heart skips a beat. The world feels like it’s spinning all of a sudden.

“How can you tell the difference, though?” you croak out. “Between genuine love and the forced one that the bond is pushing on you?”

“Um… Because I’m willing to spend the rest of my life alone, fighting against the red string of fate or whatever the fuck you want to call it, if it means that you’ll be happy, I guess,” he whispers quietly, his expression suddenly thoughtful. “Come to think of it, it’d be like my own personal fuck you towards destiny, hah.”

There’s no one else beside you and him in the house right now — your roommates are still out partying and doing god knows what — but he says it like it’s a secret that he’s been keeping for years.

And you, well, you feel like crying. Like curling yourself into a little ball underneath the covers that you’re sharing with him at the moment, and simply sobbing your heart out until it’s leaking out of your chest.

But instead of that, you look at him. You reel the tears in as you really look at him, and you say, “All right.”

You’ve always been so cautious. So hesitant and unsure — nothing like him. Ever since he’d revealed the truth during that godforsaken camping trip, Kiba speaks of the love that he feels for you so openly.

Goddammit, he loves you. He actually loves you. Not because of the bond, not because you’re his perfect biological match, not because his instinct is telling him to do so.

No, he loves you because of the memories that you’ve made together. Because of the laughter that you’ve shared. Because of all the good and the bad and everything else that’s in-between.

He loves you because he wants to, not because he needs to.

“All right?” he repeats, studying your face. “What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“It means that I’m done taking it slow. I think,” you say, trying to stop your upper lip from twitching. Your body feels tense all over once again; you feel like you’ll start bursting at the seams because of the storm of emotions that’s brewing inside you. “For once in my life, I think that I’m choosing to go all in.”

Kiba’s heart begins to pound so hard that he can hear it ringing in his ears.

“You… You mean…?” he trails off, not even daring to finish the sentence.

“Yes,” you say as your breathing slightly quickens. “We can give this thing a try; properly this time. I-I mean, fuck it, right? We haven’t been just friends for a long while now, so what’s there to lose anyway?”

He smiles at that, and for a second it’s like you can see him again — your childhood best friend. Short and scrawny, but equipped with that brazen assurance that used to get him into all sorts of trouble.

“Yeah,” he says. His smile nearly grows from ear to ear. He feels like he could touch the sky at that very moment; unbridled joy is beginning to overcome him completely. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I, umm… I guess it’s time to admit that I’ve been crushing on you for years, then. Well, I think! I’m pretty sure I was always head over heels for you, even back in high school, but I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it too much because of… well, you know,” you trail off, still riding that high of confidence that allows every bit of truth to spill out of you now.

“So when we almost kissed before I left for college, I… I got scared. You were with Tamaki at the time, and I was leaving, and I thought you’d end up regretting it from the way it would surely mess up your whole relationship and our friendship.” You look at him, eyes apologetic. “I didn’t mean to ghost you like I did, but god… The entire thing was so messy, just chaos waiting to happen, and I was too big of a coward to deal with all that, especially after moving across the country and turning a new chapter in my life. And I’m well aware that it’s no excuse for what I did, but I just wanted you to know… the real reason behind it. And that I’m sorry.”

“I wouldn’t have regretted it, though,” he says, his gaze softening. “If you’d kissed me back at mine that night, I would never have regretted it. My relationship with Tam was a fuckin’ bust either way.”

“I know that now, you dumbass!” You huff, eyebrows cinching with frustration and stress. “But what’s the use if I didn’t know it back then.”

“Bunny,” he coos, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Breathe.”

“Oh, shut up,” you fuss, pushing him in the chest. “I’m over here, pouring my heart out to you, and you’re basically telling me to calm down. Idiot.”

He snickers at your anger, thinking it’s so cute that it’s to die for. “Well, what do you want me to do, then?”

“I want-” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, chewing on it as shyness manages to creep up on you at long last. You don’t feel as confident as before when it comes to admitting to your desires out loud, so the only time you stop your incisor from digging deeper, is when you mumble, “I want you to kiss me.”

If Kiba’s gaze had been soft before, now it’s gone utterly sweet and gooey. It makes his lids drop very, very, very low on his eyes.

“Yeah?” is all he says.

“Yeah. But not like you did back at home,” you say, remembering the urgency and the forceful clash of teeth that he’d given you because of the rut that had been cooking his brain into mush at the time. “I want it done properly this time.”

“I can do that,” he says, chuckling quietly. “But don’t act like you didn’t enjoy our first kiss. I could smell how excited you got over it, remember?”

“Whatever,” you hiss, bunching up the front of his T-shirt into your fists. “Either you behave and kiss me like a gentleman, or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.”

“Hah, all right, all right! No need to threaten me, jeez,” he says. He’s still laughing as he caresses your cheek with one hand and angles your head so that he can do what you’re asking him for. “C’mere, you grouch… Let’s get smoochin’.”

“I hate you.”

“I thought you said you loved me.”

“I said I liked you, not-”

The rest of your sentence is broken off by a kiss.

Unlike the first time, it’s gentle. Perhaps you could even call it romantic. He cups your cheek instead of gripping it, and doesn’t become pushy; rather allowing you to take charge of the pace. There’s no tongue, only lip brushing against lip. Your breaths intermingle, to the point that you both start quietly panting in-between the short little pauses that you use for air.

Your stomach is doing backflips by the time he slowly pulls back to look at you. His eyes are not only yellow, they’re also ravenous, and they get even more intense when you reach out to comb your fingers through his hair.

The sudden yearning that swoops down upon him makes Kiba’s throat feel so dry that it’s like it’s burning from the inside out. It’s not quite the same as it was back during his rut, but he’s getting there. Oh, he’s getting there, all right.

“More?” he asks after the longest time of silence. His voice has turned completely hoarse.

“Mhmm, yeah,” you hum your approval, turning around to lay on your back. He instantly uses the chance to prop himself up with one elbow and drapes his upper half over you.

With his face only a couple of centimeters away from your own now, you end up nearly nose to nose. His golden chain dangles from his neck, the sleek metal occasionally cooling your skin in places that it comes in contact with. It causes you to giggle. He smiles when he leans in to kiss you again.

“Wait. I’ve got a question,” you mumble against his lips.

“Mhmm, spill,” he replies in-between kisses.

“I was thinking… Would it be… too much, if I maybe bought a golden initial of my name for you to wear?” you ask, gliding your finger along the piece of jewelry. “Like, as a not-so-secret birthday present for you next year?”

“Nah, I’d wear it,” he says simply. “Only if you wear mine, too, though.”

“Sure.” Your smile grows, little by little. “I’m in need of a new necklace anyway… Just nothing too flashy, okay?”

He snickers. “We’ll get you one of those big-ass golden dollar signs with the diamonds on top, all right?”

“Okay, yeah, that way I can always resell it.”

“Meanie.”

Your hands run through his hair for a second time as you proceed to explore each other’s mouths after months of nothing. They tug at the roots once or twice, making him grunt, before travelling down the nape of his neck and settling on his strong back. Nails grazing the soft cotton of his T-shirt, you nearly start to claw at it when his tongue touches your bottom lip.

Eventually, the kissing gets needier. More desperate. You part your lips for him and he takes his time dragging his tongue across the roof of your mouth, the flat of your teeth, tasting you fully and savouring the minty flavour of the toothpaste that you used earlier. So much saliva gets exchanged.

Besides that, there’s also phantom electricity sizzling across your skin when he carefully sinks one fang into your bottom lip and tugs on it. His caution is endearing and hot to die for, but it also feels like he’s edging you kind of. It takes you all the effort you can muster to not let a moan slip out.

What you do end up doing, however, is taking his hand and pushing it between your legs. Just like that, all by yourself.

And it’s warm there, between your legs — perhaps even a bit too much, Kiba thinks. He stiffens at your actions, hesitating only for a second before he cups your pussy right over the comfortable shorts that you wear to bed. Watches with semi-focused vision as your hips buck without any sort of doubt that would otherwise be common for you, searching for more friction despite the seam that is now pressing against your clit.

As you continue to rub yourself against the heel of his palm, more and more sweat begins to ooze out of your pores. You’re getting hot, so your hands work seemingly on their own to try and subdue the sudden rise in temperature as you curl your fingers around the hem of your T-shirt and hike it up — all until it’s touching the collar.

With your front now almost fully exposed, Kiba curses under his breath when the sweet, musky aroma of your arousal steadily begins to fill the room that you’re in. The door is closed and the windows are shut, so it hits him like a truck. His mind is getting foggier by the millisecond because of it.

“Something the matter?” you utter sweetly, honey dripping from every word. At this point, your chest has begun to heave with some untamed form of anticipation. You sound nothing like yourself.

“No, everything’s fine,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly. Once again, he’s beginning to borderline drool, this time at the sight of your tits. It makes it hard to talk. “Just enjoyin’ the view.”

“Oh, yeah? Is that so?” You fondle your breasts, running your thumbs across the sensitive nipples, making a show for him just to rile him up further. Who knew you had it in you? “Wanna tell me just how much you’re enjoying it?”

Spit threatens to drip down the corner of his mouth. He sucks it back in the last second. “Bunny… What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing’s gotten into me? Well, not yet at least… But come on, tell me.” You continue your ministrations, testing his patience. “You love to talk, don’t you?”

“I love to show off more,” he says before he moves his hand from its spot between your legs just so that he can grab you by the wrist and make you touch him below his waistline. “Here... This is all ‘cause of you. Happy?”

You blink as he curls your fingers around the bulge that’s pressing against his boxers, wanting out. Let out a breathless, almost patronizing kind of laugh. “Fuck, you’re so hard… I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt.”

“It does hurt,” he says, voice incredibly strained now. His lips quiver slightly when you give him a stroke all on your own, without him having to ask or beg for it. It makes his mind shift to other things than whatever it is that’s making you behave this way. “I want you so bad; like, so fucking bad… You’re drivin’ me completely nuts.”

You smile at how honest he is. “Touch me and we’ll get there, okay?”

And he smirks, even if his teeth are getting bigger again from the way he’s slowly losing control, gradually affecting his speech. “Don’t hafta tell me twice.”

He kisses you again, but this time it’s harder than before and done in a way that mashes your lips against your teeth. When you open your mouth wider to ease the pressure, all he does is fill it with his tongue. He gets so pushy that you have to resort to tugging on his hair to make him relent.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly, rather moving his hot mouth to your jawline and neck.

“It’s fine,” is all you manage to say before the grazing of sharp canines immediately shuts you up.

He moves fast after that, almost urgently, from how exhilarated he is to have you like this underneath him; only taking the time to get your T-shirt out of the way so that he can lick your collarbone next. You don’t even get a proper chance to react to it before he’s already dipping even lower to suck on your nipple instead.

“Ha-ah.” Your breathing stutters as you watch his nose smush against the fat of your breast. He’s swirling his tongue around the nipple, nipping it ever so gently from time to time and tugging on it with his lips.

Meanwhile, his hand has slid between your legs again. He’s running his knuckle up and down your slit the same exact way he’d done back at his place during the summer, making the seam of your pyjama shorts rub against your clit. The sensation makes your legs want to close up from the sensitivity that’s sparking there, but he makes sure you’re spread wide open for him at all times.

Eventually, he pops his mouth off your nipple only to begin paving a path of kisses down your stomach. And they’re audible, the kisses. He’s leaving little remnants of glimmering saliva on your skin as he goes, making your middle covered in it.

It’s almost fascinating how smoothly he moves for such a big guy. Before you know it, your shorts are tossed onto the floor right along with your panties, and your legs are propped on his shoulders, the heels of your feet digging into his back.

“Fuck, your pussy smells so good,” he rasps when there’s no barrier separating him from you anymore. He swallows hard at the scent of arousal that’s as strong as ever now, Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. “It’s makin’ me drool… I can’t stop it, m’sorry. I know it’s gross.”

You want to hide your face into the pillow because of how timid his words are making you somewhere deep down inside, but instead all you do is arch your back when he noses his way between your thighs and presses a sloppy kiss there.

His tongue follows suit immediately afterwards and he wastes no time with licking your slit, nudging between your folds, groaning with satisfaction at the taste. Your hands dig into his hair in an instant, grabbing fistfuls when he suckles on your clit.

It’s all happening so fast but at the same time it doesn’t seem fast enough. Heat intensifies inside the pit of your stomach, spreading throughout your thighs, your legs, right to the very tips of your toes. You dig your heels deeper into his back, pull him closer by the hair so that you can receive more.

“Shit, fuck, oh, fuuuck,” you half-moan, half-whisper, borderline gasping for air when you feel his tongue push inside you. It’s longer than a normal human’s, slightly coarser too. It makes you wiggle your hips as you try to fuck yourself against his goddamn face in response.

You have no clue if there’s some secret chemical component in his saliva that’s making you act this feral, but you simply can’t stop writhing and moaning like a slut. What’s even worse is that he tongue-fucks you like his life depends on it. In and out, in and out, the occasional swipe up and down. It’s getting messier and messier, so sloppy that there’s surely a puddle forming on the bed sheet that you’re lying on currently.

And just when you thought you had it all, his tongue gets replaced by his fingers. You tense up, an alarming thought about his claws rushing through your dazed mind, however you’re quickly relieved to find out that they’re nowhere in sight.

They’re just normal, human fingernails on normal, human fingers. Reaching deep inside you. Fuck, reaching so deep inside you. Making you see stars behind closed eyelids. Stretching you and filling you at the same time, making you nearly jump out of your skin when they curl upwards and touch that especially tender spot.

The heat that’s swirling in your tummy worsens as a result — if that is even humanly possible. You feel it rising, feel your face scrunching up, feel your teeth gritting, feel your hips picking up pace, feel your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair again, tugging way more harshly than you otherwise would as your climax starts to approach fast.

“Gonna- I’m gonna-...!”

“Nuh-uh,” he says all of a sudden, turning his pace to something painfully laggard, to something that isn’t nearly as quick and fulfilling enough to make you cum. “You’re not gonna… Not yet, at least.”

It hurts, it physically hurts; that unsatisfied feeling that resides in the place where your pleasure should be by now. Especially when he purses his lips and allows a glob of spit to land directly onto your pussy, turning you practically slippery between your legs.

He pushes the spit in with the help of his fingers.

“Wha-?” Your eyes grow big as saucers, stinging with upcoming tears at his denial. He’s gotten you so worked up that you just can’t help but behave like a spoiled pillow princess now. Like a proper crybaby.

“What, hm? You gonna cry?” He sneers — surprisingly meanly — at the lost look that appears on your face now. Wiping his mouth against your thigh, he kisses it before he says, “Relax, you’re gonna cum… I just want your bunny cunt squeezin’ around my dick, not my fingers.”

“Then lemme sit on it…! C’mon, lemme ride you or something,” you cry out, voice cracking with urgency and desperation that even you, yourself, don’t recognize.

You push up from the bed with the help of your elbows so that you can clamber on top of him and ride him like the best cowgirl to ever live under the fucking sun, but all he does is press his hand into the middle of your chest and shoves you right back down onto the mattress.

For fuck’s sake, was this how he felt back when he’d begged you to help him find relief during his rut? Your body feels like it’ll drop dead any second now if you don’t get dicked down soon.

“No, you’ll hurt yourself if you do that ‘cause you ain’t stretched out enough yet. Besides, I’ve got a different idea anyway,” he says, reaching for the back of his T-shirt’s collar so that he can tug it off. “Turn onto your side.”

You stare at the rippling muscle, as well as at all the tattoos that run up his left arm to his shoulder. His hair is messy and his eyes almost glow in the dark. He’s buff, hairy, with sharp teeth and equally as keen-edged facial features.

In that exact moment, he looks like the embodiment of animalistic hunger. Either that, or it’s just straight up carnage if it were a person.

“Are you going to mount me?” you ask, guts squeezing with anticipation at the mere thought of it. “Like you did back in the woods? ‘Cause I really… enjoyed that last time.”

His brows rise, short-lived surprise crossing his face before he chuckles. “Hah… Later, okay? Gonna fuck you sideways first and stretch you out a lil’ so my cock can fit.”

While Kiba tugs down his underwear, you busy yourself with doing as you’re told. You lie onto your side, clenching and rubbing your thighs together with lewd suspense and bated breath. By the time he spoons you, finally completely naked himself, you’re already bending your legs at the knee, pushing your ass out for him.

“Somebody needs it bad, huh?” he taunts as he pulls you closer to his chest.

You’re in the same exact position as you were before all of this had started, the only difference is that you’re both naked now.

And, well, you’ve also got his cock sliding up and down your sticky pussy now. Got it smearing pre-cum and arousal and spit together, making you both groan out quiet noises of pleasure whenever the fat cockhead catches against your entrance, which feels like it’s fucking throbbing at this point.

He did something to you, didn’t he? He stuck his tongue fully inside your cunt for the first time instead of only licking and prodding it, and all of a sudden you’re forced to behave like a cat in heat.

“Kiba,” you whisper, breathing so fast that it’s almost frantic. You’re clawing at the sheets and rubbing your cheek against the pillow as you say, “Put it in... Fuck… Mmph, for the love of god, just put it in already…! I need your dick inside me.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m trying,” he mumbles, frustration making him bite the inside of his cheek. “But I gotta go slowly first so that I don’t rip ya to shreds, bunny... And you beggin’ me for it is not helping ‘cause it’s only making me want to do just that.”

“I don’t care about any of that, just… just put the tip in at least,” you mewl out between words, wiggling your hips, curling your toes. Turning your head to the side to look at him, you instead kiss him with the same forceful shove forward the second your eyes land on him. “Just the tip, yeah? Okay? Like we did it back in the tent.”

He stares at you, jaw clenched and teeth grinding together from how intensely he’s trying to keep himself in-check while also having to do the same exact thing for you as well now. He can smell your need, the sweat that coats your skin, the arousal. Can hear the heavy beating of your heart.

You’re both going to devour each other if one of you doesn’t have some self-control. So Kiba tries to be the one to have it, taking another long moment to grind against you before he finally lets his gaze slip from your nearly bewildered expression, and rather focuses it on guiding his cock straight into your cunt.

You arch against him when his cockhead spreads your folds apart and slowly makes its way inside. Jaw relaxing at the sensation of finally having something to ease all that painful throbbing that’s going on, you gasp for air almost in relief despite the pesky feeling of your pussy squeezing around the girth of his dick.

It’s already demanding more.

“Fuck, bunny,” he grunts, thrusting slowly, easing himself in. “What’s wrong with you…? You’re suckin’ me right in… Shit… Makin’ it real hard f’me to not push in all the way.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, just-... j-just keep going,” you whimper out, face turning hot when you feel slick dribbling down his length. He’s so big, perhaps even too big, but your cunt just keeps on taking more and more. It never seems to be enough.

Minutes pass and you’re gradually losing your sense of self right along with them. All you care about is having him inside you. So you fuck the tip first, then half of his cock, and afterwards — fucking finally — you start taking the whole thing.

And it feels good, relieving almost. He’s got his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling and drooling over the spot where your scent is the strongest as he holds your leg up for you and just slowly pounds away. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Meanwhile, you’re drooling all over the pillow as well, blindly reaching behind you to stroke his hair with twitching fingertips as your hips help him in meeting yours over and over again. Every time his fingers dig into the soft spot that’s underneath your knee, it makes you tighten up.

His cock twitches inside you when he buries it in to the hilt, really allowing himself to sink balls deep and making you do that cute little wince that wants to make him go batshit crazy. But instead of doing that, he steadies himself. Reels it back in. Tries to listen to your quick-paced heartbeat and even quicker breaths, despite that he’s paying attention to other things.

Because even if the sounds of skin slapping against skin aren’t that loud from how slowly he’s pushing into you, that doesn’t mean that they aren’t present. He can still hear them all. As well as the occasional gushy little noises that your pussy makes.

They make his balls tighten.

You don’t know how long you do this entire thing, but you orgasm three, three fucking times during it. To some it may be like a dream come true, however to you it’s exhausting. The overstimulation is wiping you out, and yet you keep pushing, keep asking for more, keep turning around to kiss him and whine out little pleas of ‘don’t stop, please don’t stop’.

The stretch stings, as does the spot on your neck where he sank his fangs earlier, but you welcome the overwhelming sensations with open arms. In fact, you’re so feral that you feel like you won’t survive the night if he doesn’t fuck and bite and squeeze this craving for pleasure out of you.

He does a pretty good job with it, though. With how wet you are, it’s fairly easy for Kiba to turn rougher; to turn more bestial and wild and relentless with every push and shove of his hips that he drills into yours. He even uses the vibe he’s had to listen to you pleasure yourself with over the phone these last couple of weeks, in order to help you with your little problem.

But you’re not just wet, you’re also insatiable — yes, that’s what you are! Constantly making noise and clawing at him like a little slut, looking at him with tearful eyes as the fever keeps on kicking you into the goddamn ground. So it’s only when he mounts you, aiming to fuck you like an animal, that you start feeling any sort of satisfaction that actually manages to stick.

He uses his weight to roll you onto your tummy, and pins you down by placing you in a headlock that has you gasping for air, but also has you cumming on the spot again. You’re pretty sure that it’s the sheer, utter strength and the size difference between your head and his arm that has you behaving this way now instead of the daze, but who knows?

“Already? Christ,” he pants out, his hot exhales tickling your naked shoulder. His entire body is slick with sweat — you’re pretty sure you saw it dripping down his temples earlier. It’s no wonder that the last couple of kisses you’ve exchanged tasted salty. “Who would’ve thought that a good girl like you likes to be fucked this nasty, huh?”

Your lips try to part so that you can answer his jab with one of your own, however your face is squished against his tattooed bicep, rendering that task nearly impossible. Besides that, he’s growling into your ear, crushing you with his weight, getting bigger and bigger, until he’s throbbing inside your cunt, making your voice useless either way.

“My lil’ mate,” he continues, seemingly in a daze himself. He’s whipped at this point, completely pussy drunk. “You are, right? Mine?”

You still can’t say anything other than choked up gibberish from how firmly he’s holding you, however you do make an effort to nod.

But it’s not like he waits for you to actually answer. No, all he does is start picking up speed; starts pounding away for real, eventually making you feel like he’s in your fucking guts each time he draws back and slams right back in.

“Nngh… I’m close, real fuckin’ close... Gimme one more and then I’m… I’m knotting ya, okay, sweetheart? Yeah?” he rasps between quick breaths, voice so hoarse and hot that it ignites a fire straight up inside your soul. “Jus’ one more and then we’re makin’ pups, ‘kay?”

That last sentence alone is enough to get you reaching your finish real fucking fast. Your eyes roll back, your ass pushes up so that he can reach even deeper inside you. His balls slap against your clit with every harsh, unforgiving thrust, and it’s like you’ve gone to heaven.

Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s got you trapped in a headlock. Besides it being the hottest thing that a guy has ever done to you in bed so far, it also ensures that you stay nice and quiet.

So it only takes you a minute or two to become undone underneath him because of all that’s happening. And the second you tighten around him — the strongest you’ve ever squeezed him tonight — his thrusting turns irregular and almost kind of jerky, picking up in speed more and more until he eventually reaches his climax and comes to a full stop.

Kiba grits his too-big teeth when he cums, spilling every last drop of his warm release inside you and closing his eyes during it. Every muscle in his body hurts from how overly tense he’d forced them to be whilst trying not to go too far since you’re so fragile. But as he wills himself to finally loosen up a little bit, he realizes that that hurts even more. The groan he lets out as a result can barely be registered as human.

But it’s not over just yet. You feel the now familiar, but equally as strange, sensation as his knot begins to swell inside you. The stretch builds up while it fills more and more space, pressing against your tender walls and causing your pussy to protest as it tries to accommodate all of him.

You’re stuck together once again, panting, sweating, trying to piece yourselves back into what you once were while also feeling completely, utterly fucked out.

His breathing is still heavy as he releases the headlock to ask, “What the fuck happened just now?”

“Oh, gosh.” You let out a small, muffled groan underneath him, fussing into the pillow, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“You acted like you were in heat,” he continues, concern shining in his yellow eyes. “Went all feral on me and shit.”

“I feel like I still am,” you say, whining when you feel his knot throbbing inside you in answer. “We’re probably gonna have to go for round two.”

“Fine by me.” He muses before a breathless snicker escapes him. “I’ll fuck you until sunrise if that’s what you want, baby.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t almost die from a heart attack just now.”

He grins from ear to ear. “Pussy so good it kills.”

You roll your eyes. “I wish it did.”

“All right, that’s it. You’re getting squished as punishment.”

“No, wait-”

Ignoring your protests, Kiba succumbs to the tiredness and drops his weight upon you exactly like he’d done the first time when he’d mounted you during the summer. However, before he can kiss you and shower you in praise for doing so well yet again, a small, sudden growl resonates from deep within his chest.

His sensitive wolf hearing picks up on the sound of keys jingling from the other side of the front door, as well as the drunken giggles and wheezing.

Your roommates are back. Great timing.

Looks like you’ll have to play it quiet.

———

Dating a werewolf is easier than expected, when said werewolf is also your best friend.

But even after being in a relationship with him for almost five years now — the last two of those spent living in an adorable little apartment together — you still can’t help but be fazed by how rough he ends up looking after every transformation.

Kiba’s shirt is torn in some places when he comes home the morning after he’d ventured out into the woods to cross off yet another full moon off his calendar. Besides the shirt, you also notice that his shoes are muddy and that his jeans are covered in dirt. Oh, and you’re pretty sure that there’s a twig poking out of his hair.

All in all, he looks absolutely dead-beat; so exhausted that he can’t even give you a proper smile as he kicks his sneakers off and drags his feet across the kitchen floor. When he finally plops down onto the chair he favours, it’s accompanied by a sigh.

You stand up from your own seat so that you can walk over and give him a kiss on the forehead. When you do, you catch a whiff of his scent. He smells earthy; like rich soil and wet moss. Like a rainy forest.

“Hungry?” you mumble against his tan skin, combing your fingers through his hair to get rid of the twig that’s definitely stuck in there. After a bit of effort, you succeed in pulling it out and make sure to toss it in the trash as you head for the fridge.

“Starvin’,” he answers behind you, his voice completely worn out. “My stomach hurts like a motherfucker from how empty it is.”

“Well, that’s your own fault, now isn’t it? If you’d transformed here like you did last time, I would’ve made sure you were fed throughout the night,” you chide, rummaging through the fridge to pick up the carton of eggs you’d bought the day before. “I even took a day off work because of it, and yet you still decided to go out there into the woods.”

“I gotta keep that dawg in me somehow, don’t I?” he says, laughing like a kid.

“You can keep that dawg in you while you’re lying on a warm couch instead of the cold, wet ground,” you reply, grabbing the eggs. “Bacon?”

“Yes, please,” he says, propping his cheek against one hand.

With his eyes back to their normal brown, Kiba watches you move across the kitchen that you’d built together over the course of an entire week after moving in. He’d boasted that he was entirely capable of doing it himself and had cancelled on the assembly guys without even as much as offering you the chance to argue back.

Nowadays, whenever he gets another similarly dumb idea, you use the kitchen as a firm example of the consequences that it may bring.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that you were trying to domesticate me,” he muses, feeling his stomach clench at the smell of food that’s beginning to sizzle on the pan now. “Or you just want to sit on my face when I’m in my monster form again. That’s also an option.”

God, he’s so hungry that it hurts.

“You’re lucky I don’t put you up for adoption just for saying that,” you say, tossing the egg shells away. With how fast embarrassment swoops in, twisting your expression into a flustered one, you’re happy that you’ve got your back turned towards him.

“What? You gonna tell me you didn't enjoy the stuff we did last month?” he asks, smirking at the memory. “‘Cause I seem to recall someone whining like a lil’ bitch in heat from only a couple flicks of tongue.”

He’s not wrong. Ever since he’d finally allowed you to see him in his other form a couple years ago, you’d been excited to experiment a little after the initial shock had worn off. So far, there’s been a lot of licking, plenty of dry humping and zero penetration whatsoever; if you exclude that one time when you tried to take him into your mouth but had ended up slobbering all over his dick instead.

He’s simply too big, and you’ve learned to accept it by now. Rubbing your pussy over the enormous length of his werewolf cock is all you can do, but it’s still satisfying either way. Especially when he cums because of how turned you are at the sight of him even when he’s fucking huge and equipped with sharp claws and teeth that could kill just as easily as they could protect. During those times, his release ends up covering your entire tummy and makes a mess out of his fur.

Nevertheless, Kiba feels so lucky that you’re willing to accept all of him. Feels like the luckiest man — or should he rather say wolf — to ever walk the face of the planet. It’s easier when he’s got a partner to lean on.

“Hey. Language,” you say, your voice stern.

“Sorry.” He lets out a soft little hum in apology that’s meant to appease you further. “I’ll stay home next month, okay? I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” you say, definitely wishing he did.

“I want to,” he says back.

When you go to place the plate before him, he pulls you down so that you can sit on his lap instead. After a little bit of squirming and whining about how he’s going to get your pyjama shorts dirty, you eventually settle down when he places his hand on your thigh and pats it affectionately.

“You sure you want to stay here next month?” you mumble. Watching your bare feet dangle freely in the air now, you stroke him over the back of his head with an absent-minded look in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel cooped up just because of me.”

“Yes, because I can’t take another month of seeing you be so worried about me,” he says sweetly, grabbing the fork that you’d placed on the table earlier.

Your expression turns blank. “Who said I was worried about you?”

He gives you a look that spells bullshit.

“…Oh fine, maybe I did worry just the tiniest bit,” you huff, pursing your lips. “But can you blame me? I mean, look at the shape you’re in whenever you come back!”

“Yeah, I look cool as fuck,” he mumbles before swallowing, already munching on the eggs. You just know he’ll wolf them down the second you get off his lap. “Like Bear Grylls.”

You blink, slowly. “Bear Grylls drank his own piss on live television.”

“I mean, if I-”

“No,” you cut in, sighing. “Whatever you were about to say just now, the answer is no.”

“Meh,” he says, taking another bite. “You’re no fun.”

You stare at his side profile, at the way his jaw works as he chews, at how the sun filters through the window that’s across the room and paints his tan skin golden. It’s not long before your hand is reaching out towards him, cupping his cheek so that you can press a warm kiss on his temple.

“Sucks to be you then, I guess,” you say, smiling cheekily. “Since you’re stuck with a lame mate and all that.”

“Nah, you’re cool as a mate,” he says, angling his head more into your touch on pure instinct. “You’re just a lame best friend. Still love ya, though!”

But despite the teasing remark that he’s just thrown your way, the truth is that Kiba loves you as his best friend just as much as he loves you as his mate.

And judging by the little box that he’s hidden in the back of his closet recently, it seems like he’s going to love you as his wife very soon, too.

#biscuit fics #naruto smut #naruto x reader #kiba smut #kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka smut #kiba inuzuka x reader #cw monsterfucking #kiba inuzuka

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httpsserene · 1 year ago

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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

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

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

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

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

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

cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”

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

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

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

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

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

you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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