#also it's been a while since i wrote any kind of smut so i hope this is okay

[ikeuverse]

OPPOSITES — p.jongseong

PAIRING: ceo!jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, smut, a little angst WC: 12.1k+

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, slightly drunk, a brief argument. kissing, foreplay, (almost) dry sex. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

SYNOPSIS: jay was the most serious ceo anyone could meet and remember, but not when you were around. while he had a difficult smile, you captivated anyone with your cheerful and relaxed manner. one night, he decided to take you into his world, the business dinner, but you didn't know if it was a good idea.

NOTES: a little treat i wrote for my little sweetheart @bluej4ym <3 to thank you for all your care and for always being here for me. you deserve more stories (which i'll write later, spoiler yeah) and what's more, you deserve only good things bc you're like that, full of good things. thanks for your friendship, i love you very much. and i hope you enjoy the story as much as i do.

masterlist

Working in a multinational company has two aspects that you can't avoid. First was the growth of shares and partners, dealing with people at the top, and seeing the numbers rise as you closed really important deals. Secondly, there was the gossip that went around the corridors of the company, even more so if you were the CEO.

Jongseong could boast of having a major multinational, being a billionaire, and having shares rising by the second. He took the trouble to congratulate all the employees for their hard work and dedication while they were in that building, giving their all so that the numbers would rise even higher. But Jongseong couldn't control what they said here and there, especially about him.

Not that it was something he needed to care about, like hearing that he was a really serious and scary boss… Well, he could take that title with ease. Jongseong wasn't one for easy smiles and small talk, saying only what was necessary to his employees and being strictly professional and polite. Greeting passers-by regardless of whether they were having a good day or not. But his facade was cold and methodical, as you'd usually hear.

What Jongseong didn't like to deal with was the gossip that arose after he met you. Introducing you as a romantic partner was something he didn't want publicly at the beginning of the relationship, private life being exclusively for the two of you. As well as keeping you out of the eyes of employees he knew would be the talk of the town, Jongseong also liked to have all the time in the world for you. But the town was too small, he had thought when he heard one of the employees say, the next day when he met the two of you in a restaurant.

“The boss is dating a very beautiful woman” he'd boast, having good taste, having heard how beautiful you were and the compliments the young man made on your appearance, although he was a little annoyed that he'd looked at you so much to find out about your physical characteristics.

“Does he really have a heart? I mean, how is he supposed to treat this girl when he's so serious all the time?” well, Jongseong wasn't expecting that comment.

That's what had been hammering at him for so long, not denying any gossip that involved you and him specifically. Since your employees knew, there was no hiding it. This led him to take the liberty of asking you to come to the company a few days a week. Walking hand in hand with you down the corridors or holding your shoulder to guide you, or with his hand on your waist talking about how the evening would go at home and what he was planning for the two of you to have for dinner.

He didn't need any kind of validation from anyone, but he also didn't know how to explain how annoyed he was at the thought of people thinking he didn't pay enough attention to you. Just like you, the woman who stole his heart just by the simple way she treated him. You were unlike anyone he had ever met, and Jongseong would spend hours talking about you and how much you meant to him if it were possible. He would replace the weekly stock meeting just to talk about you.

“Mr. Park?” the voice interrupted him slightly as he rambled on about you and how he felt about you. His eyes left the computer that was open on the stock spreadsheets and quickly went to the door. Jongseong's secretary stared at him with a small smile without showing her teeth, politely and discreetly “I have some papers for you to sign, can I take them?”

“Of course, come in” he settled into his chair, waiting for the secretary to walk towards him and place the papers on the table. Jongseong rolled his eyes at the small mountain of sheets she had placed there and his eyes quickly went to the corner of the desk. A small picture frame was turned towards him, without anyone being able to make out what was there. A photo of you. The first picture he took on the analog camera you had at home. Jongseong hadn't tinkered with these things for a long time, ever since his camera had broken and, with the hustle and bustle of life and work, he'd never thought to fix it. But you had one, and it was in perfect condition. Capturing it was no effort when you were graceful to the extreme and your beauty had been captured without any problem.

He smiled so openly at the photo that he didn't notice that the secretary was still standing in front of his desk. Her gaze followed where he was looking and, curiously, she tried not to bend down to notice the photo, although she had a slight notion that it might be a picture of him or someone he loved very much.

“Do you need anything else, Mr. Park?” she asked shyly, and he noticed the astonishment on her face when he connected the dots… Jongseong had smiled openly for the first time in front of someone other than you or his parents.

“No…” he huffed, picking up one of the sheets from the pile of papers and looking at the written lines to try and disguise how fervently his cheeks were burning “You can go now, miss. Thank you.”

Just as she entered, greeting Jongseong on her way out, the door closed and left the man alone in the room again. It wasn't a big deal to smile like that in front of someone else, but he found it strange and felt that he had let his guard down for an employee he only had a professional relationship with. Jongseong thought he only had to show that side to everyone he worked with, he had no reason to be affectionate like that.

Apart from you, the only person who broke this kind of protocol was someone he knew would be coming into his office in the next few minutes. And without thinking to wait for a call or a message, or even a sign that he was coming in, the door was flung open.

The playful smile on Jaeyun's lips indicated that he had heard something in the corridors of the company.

“What's up, Mr. wide smile?” he hummed after closing the door, his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he walked slowly over to Jongseong's desk.

“Are they commenting yet?” he snorted, throwing the paper on the table and stretching back in his chair.

“She said you have a beautiful smile” Jaeyun bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing at his best friend's pained expression as he walked over to the table and sat down in the armchair right in front of his best friend and company owner “I think you should smile more, you know?”

“And I think you should fuck off—”

“Hey, is that how you talk to the vice president? How disrespectful” the other pretended to be offended, his posture mimicking Jongseong's in the chair, throwing all his weight on the back of the armchair while sighing heavily.

Sim Jaeyun had been Jongseong's best friend for as long as he could remember. Remembering Jaeyun running around at company parties when neither of them knew how to add two and two together. He had a tooth missing when he greeted Jongseong for the first time and asked him to play in the middle of a gigantic crystal fountain in a particularly large hall. When Jongseong and Jaeyun broke the statue and fell into the fountain, getting wet from head to toe, it was there that he knew for sure that this boy would be his best friend.

That's why he had asked him to be vice-president of the company because there was no one better than Jaeyun to help him with his business. He had always been by Jongseong's side and seen him through all the good and bad times, where Jongseong wasn't ashamed to be vulnerable around Jaeyun, let alone show the side of him that almost no one knew about.

That's why it was impossible to remain serious around his best friend, even in the workplace. Jongseong didn't like being in the same environment as Jaeyun for too long, especially in meetings, because he knew that at some point his best friend would say something that would make him crack up and laugh at the same time. That was one of the reasons why the two of them hardly had any meetings together, even if Jaeyun did manage to get them together once in a while to talk to some employees.

“Do you know what I was thinking?” Jaeyun asked.

“And you were thinking?” the other joked, receiving Jaeyun's middle finger affectionately and a grimace soon after, making him laugh jokingly.

“We have less than a week until the Swedish partner's welcome dinner” he sighed happily. Jaeyun liked dinners because the buffet was always very well served and he knew that someone always remembered to put out the appetizers he liked. Good champagne and he would judge people's clothes along with you because he knew Jongseong would take it. Jaeyun was sure of it, he made friends with you so easily that it was like a perfect fit that you had come into his best friend's life. Because Jongseong would never say anything about anyone else, even though she was completely underdressed. But Jaeyun knew that you would drop a comment and laugh at something he said because you and he were Jongseong's karma. In a good way.

“And what does that mean? We're going together as a couple again?” it was Jongseong's turn to ask, making his best friend roll his eyes.

“First of all— Ew” he pretended to shudder with disgust, but there were countless times that the two of them went to dinner together. One because neither of them had any thoughts of dating or anything like that, and two because it was cooler to be with his best friend “Secondly, I thought you'd take Y/n. You have to take her!”

“Why?” Jaeyun noticed that Jongseong hesitated a little. His posture shifted in his chair as he uttered his name in the middle of the conversation. He thought his best friend would be happy about the mention and how much Jaeyun liked you, practically a sister-in-law to him. But he saw the company owner's expression change a little.

“Because, well… she's your girlfriend?” it seemed obvious to say something like that, Jongseong wanted to slap himself for acting like that, even more so in front of Jaeyun “And because it's a company event, it's your chance to bring her closer to the gossips who say you treat her badly.”

Jongseong hated how oblivious and sincere his best friend was. The words came out of the other with no intention of hurting or offending, and he knew it. But he also knew how sincere the boy was being because although Jongseong had never been so open about his personal life, having you around where almost everyone – or everyone – from his company was, would be a good opportunity to at least show that he cared about you. Not as he would have liked because you were in public, but he would have tried.

“I don't know why I'm bothering with this, honestly” he put his hands over his face, his voice coming out muffled and he holding back the overwhelming urge to shout. Jongseong was sincere when he said it and he knew that his best friend understood, after all, he had known him almost all his life.

“Maybe it's because you really love her and can't stand the idea of people making things up about you dating her” was another naked truth coming out of the mouth of the world's most sincere best friend, whom Jongseong felt incredibly lucky to have. He took his hands away from his face, letting them rest on his lap as he looked at the boy in front of him.

That was completely true, and also because you were the first person who took him out of the CEO posture and saw him only as Park Jongseong. You saw him as someone other than a suit and tie, expensive clothes, and a closed face. You smiled so beautifully at him that it was then that Jongseong knew he should marry you.

“I hate you” was the only thing he managed to say to Jaeyun, hearing his best friend's laugh after a big thud on the table. He had slapped the thick wood a few times to celebrate that he was right.

“Now that I've convinced you to take Y/n to dinner, I'm going to send her a message” Jaeyun stood up.

“What? You're going to text my girlfriend and say what?” Jongseong narrowed his eyes at the boy.

“I want to ask if that best friend of hers is available… What's her name again?” Jongseong listened to Jaeyun speak several names until he guessed the name of his best friend, whom he had seen a few times when the two of you went out together somewhere more relaxed.

Jongseong genuinely laughed at this, Jaeyun's intentions always being serious, but with a comic undertone that took away all the weight of working hard all week. He watched his best friend walk out of the office humming something without saying another word, leaving him there with a smile on his lips and the thought of introducing you to a sea of people next week.

Jongseong had parked in front of your apartment countless times, waiting for you to come down and walk out the door as gracefully as ever. This time something seemed different and he knew he was too nervous – and unnecessarily so. It was just a dinner he was tired of being at, with boring people, although the subjects were really necessary. He was cordial and polite to partners and future investors, waving and greeting people who were as rich as he was just to make an average while sipping some expensive drink he didn't even care about.

Having you by his side that night would make things a little different. Jongseong didn't know if it had been a good idea to invite you to that dinner, he knew it was a world you weren't used to, although he never said he felt uncomfortable knowing how much he was part of it. Your life, completely opposite to his, was what gave grace and balance to the relationship between the two of you. While Jongseong was counting the company's millions in revenue, wearing a suit worth almost a hundred thousand and always with his hair combed with gel and straightened, you were the opposite. A baggy, comfortable suit soiled with some kind of paint or clay, your hair curled or tied up however, you could manage, inside a room full of art and paintings that you sold everywhere or gave lessons on how to make a good canvas painting. You made your money quietly and unhurriedly, while Jongseong needed figures and results the moment he opened a spreadsheet on his computer.

While he was serious and had no chance for a relaxed smile, you smiled at everyone and greeted anyone who passed in front of you. Your good mood was recognized by Jongseong the day you met, in the coffee shop you shared – in secret – because he knew it was the only quiet place, while you liked the aroma of the coffee and the few people who went there. He was in such a hurry the day he entered that establishment that he didn't see you and knocked over all the coffee you had just paid for.

There was no way he could have cursed you, after all, it was his fault because he didn't look where he was going. He didn't wait for you to pass and even made you waste your drink. Looking in your direction, you kept a smile on your face, even though your T-shirt was dirty with iced caramel coffee. Apologies wouldn't be enough for him to make up for what had happened, so buying you another coffee would be the least he could do. But as soon as he sat down at the table to wait for the compensation coffee, he was surprised by your good humor and smooth talk.

As if you weren't intimidated by him and how well-dressed he was in front of you. Nor did you care that your coffee was sticking to your shirt by now and the smell of caramel was invading the conversation you were both having. Jongseong never thought it would be so easy to talk to someone until he met you. Until he fell in love with you so naturally that he wanted to see you even more every day.

Jongseong sighed slowly, feeling nostalgic for the first day he laid eyes on you. How lucky he was that everything had turned out the way it had… He was overcome by that feeling until he stared at the entrance to your building. There you were. As beautiful as he remembered you to be. So perfect walking towards him while carefully holding the scarf that covered your shoulders to keep the wind from hitting you as the night went on. Although you were covered by his blazer by the end of the night, though.

“Hey” you said as soon as you got close enough, giving that smile that Jongseong was sure was his fuel for anything.

“Hey, darling” Jongseong said back, stretching out his hand enough to touch your waist over the dress. The silk making contact with his skin and the softness of the fabric made him smile. It hugged his body so perfectly that Jongseong was beginning to wonder if he should take you like that.

“Do you like it? Jake helped me choose, he said you'd like this color” your pout was soon broken by his lips, a quick kiss without much depth since you were both still out of the car. Jongseong took a good look again. The navy blue silk highlighted everything about you; from the color of your eyes, the tone of your hair, and even the tone of your skin. He certainly liked that color.

“He knows me on this” Jongseong kissed your lips once more, his other hand going to your face to caress your cheeks and feel the softness of your skin this time “You look stunning, baby.”

“I'm glad you liked it, love” you thanked him, and it was your turn to kiss him quickly to pull away and pull him into the car. You didn't know what time dinner would start on the dot, but you were sure that Jongseong couldn't be late, after all, he was the CEO. He would need to be there a little earlier as he had to welcome the guests and greet a world of important people.

He wasn't a difficult person for you to read, ever since you first met, so this evening it was easy for you to notice how nervous Jongseong seemed. From getting into the car and holding your thigh as his drove, to arriving at the dinner space and getting out of the car with you. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and every time you saw him look in your direction, his adam's apple would jiggle a little more, indicating that Jongseong was swallowing dry for some reason. A reason you couldn't think of. Perhaps asking Jaeyun would be a good idea since he was with Bonnie, your best friend. The two of them were relaxed with each other and would be your company while Jongseong went off to greet the first business partners of the evening.

“Do you two want something to drink?” Jaeyun asked when he found the table that the four of you would be sitting at for the rest of the evening, with only Jongseong left to join you.

“You can bring me whatever you're drinking” Bonnie smiled at Jaeyun, who smiled back.

“I think I'll take a water.”

“What?” Jaeyun's expression contorted, a grimace appearing as he wrinkled his forehead at you while sticking out his tongue “We have so many nice drinks and you're going to ask me for water? Please, Y/n.”

“That's right Y/n, how about the three of us have a drink together?” Bonnie tried to cheer you up with Jaeyun's help. If denying your best friend was a difficult task, having someone else do it made it even worse.

You weren't able to say anything else before Jaeyun left in search of a really good drink in addition to a glass of water. Meanwhile, the moment passed in complete silence between you and your best friend, because she knew you needed some time to yourself. That environment was something different for you and knowing that the stares you received were because you were known as the CEO's girlfriend. What would they think of you… that you were a gold-digger? Or did Jongseong's employees even know about the solid relationship you and he had?

It was clear that he acted strangely when it came to you and his working environment, and it was something you didn't question or care much about. Because you didn't meet Park Jongseong, the CEO. You met Jay, Jongie, the loving man who smiled at you no matter what situation he faced that day. The man with the warmest hugs and the best kiss you've ever tasted in your life.

Much of that dinner was a blur to you after Jaeyun brought some drinks and the three of you chatted about various things, with a little time left over to judge the outfits of people who swore they looked great in that space. But in fact, they were dressed so strangely. Like… Even you, who had never been to such a fancy dinner before, knew how to dress – although Jaeyun helped you with the choice because he knew what Jongseong liked – but that was no excuse! You looked much better than the people who were the talk of the table.

Jongseong had finally joined the table and the conversation between him and Bonnie was pleasant, making you feel good that your boyfriend got on well with your best friend. Just as you and Jaeyun had gotten along. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your thigh under the table, stroking your leg as the conversation between him and your best friend flowed smoothly. The tender touch of Jongseong's fingers, was a silent way of telling you that he was there for you, even though his perfume was everywhere. At least to you, who could tell exactly what he smelled like?

You looked at Jongseong's profile, his sharp jaw and plump lips making your heart race. The way his dimples appeared every time he smiled at something the other two at the table said made your heart leap a little more than usual in your boyfriend's presence. You got so lost in his face, in Jongseong's stunning beauty that you didn't notice when he abandoned his conversation with Jaeyun and Bonnie to look in your direction.

“Admiring?” Jongseong said, a low tone knowing that you would hear it anyway because of how close you had to each other.

“Feeling lucky, maybe” you shrugged, noticing him leaning towards you. His face a few centimeters away from yours, Jongseong's gaze lowered to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Lucky for what?” he asked, shifting his gaze back and forth between your eyes and your mouth. The way he did it was so natural, yet it made you boil with shyness. Your cheeks would already be visibly flushed if it weren't for the make-up masking it and the amount of alcohol you'd drunk. You could blame it on Jaeyun and Bonnie.

“For having you with me” you finally replied, causing Jongseong's gallant exterior to crumble and giving way to the man with the silly smile and passionate gaze. He leaned in a little closer, his forehead touching yours and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

Even if you knew that that intimate touch was the furthest the two of you had gone in front of everyone, you didn't know that practically all of his employees would be watching and commenting on it. Seeing how enamored Jongseong seemed to be with that simple touch.

“If I'm going to count myself lucky on this, then I'm the luckiest man on the planet” with a final whisper, he was ready to kiss your lips. Tasting the flavor of the drinks you'd had that night and how the fruity ones would have tasted on your tongue against his if it hadn't been for the mere interruption.

“Sorry to disturb you” Jongseong felt your breath quicken against your face, slowly pulling away so that he could straighten up and pay attention to whoever was calling him. And so he did. Sitting properly next to you as he had before, his hand still lingering on your leg as he looked at the middle-aged man standing behind Jaeyun's chair “I didn't mean to interrupt the guys, but I need you two with a so-called investor near the bar. Can you accompany me?”

A company dinner with business at a time that didn't need to happen. Jongseong and Jaeyun hated being president and vice president at this time.

“Will you wait for me for a few minutes?” he turned towards you, his eyes meeting yours effortlessly. The intense glare in your gaze made Jongseong unable to control himself even a little, so he leaned in and captured your lips without waiting for you to give anything away.

It was no lie to say that Jongseong had the best kiss in the world, even more so when he started caressing your lips with his cracked lips. The muscle of Jongseong's tongue came into contact with yours slowly and gradually, tasting the light fruitiness of the cocktail you'd had a while ago. He knew he would taste it, knew it would match the slow kiss you two shared. Unfortunately for both of you, the time had come to pull away and Jongseong did so with a small smile as he noticed the surprise on your face at having such a sudden kiss.

You held back the urge to laugh when Jaeyun came out and slapped Jongseong on the shoulder in excitement at the kiss that had just taken place. You caught a glimpse of the best friends pestering each other as, together, they walked to the bar where there were a few men much older than the two of them.

“I guess it's just you and me now, dear best friend” Bonnie moved between the chairs to sit next to you, facing the bar where the two boys had arrived a few minutes before. She slowly laid her head on your shoulder, feeling the weight of your head resting on hers straight away.

“How about some more cocktails? I loved what Jake brought us both.”

“That's how you say it. That's my Y/n!” she celebrated, raising her head and making you raise yours too. Bonnie's smile infected yours, along with her excitement at getting up from the table and going after another cocktail to face the rest of the night.

Jongseong's eyes were asking for help as he looked at Jaeyun and saw him order another glass of whiskey from the old man sitting between them. The deal had been made a long time ago, but the older man insisted on drinking a little more to celebrate. He didn't even want to celebrate more than he should have, one glass of whiskey was enough and Jongseong just wanted to go back to sitting at your table, be in your arms, and get out of that dinner.

Thinking about you and how much he missed you, he turned towards the table where you were supposed to be with Bonnie, expecting to see you talking to your best friend. But what Jongseong found was an empty table and nothing but the empty glasses that you all drank before leaving there.

He looked around, looking for some sign from you or Bonnie so he could have an excuse with which he could walk away, say that one of you two needed his help with something and get Jaeyun out of there too.

Jongseong was starting to get nervous without seeing you for more than two minutes, no sign of you anywhere. Then he looked at Jaeyun, as tired and bored as he was. Waving to his best friend as a silent request to leave, neither of them thought much other than to give a small excuse to the old man and walk away.

“What’s wrong, man?” Jaeyun whispered as the two of them walked away, looking at the table where the two of you should be and finding it empty “Oh, I see” then he started to search the place together with Jongseong.

“I think we can split up for a bit, maybe” he suggested as he started to get impatient. He had already walked through the long dining room and not a single solid spark from you or Bonnie. He sighed heavily, Jaeyun looking around before landing his eyes on his best friend.

“The second floor has some rooms from what the organization people said” he answered to Jongseong “Do you want to look there and I’ll go outside to see if the girls went out for some air?”

“Great idea, I’ll go up,” Jongseong said.

Climbing the stairs two at a time, he didn’t know he was capable of being as fast on a staircase as he was at that moment. The second floor was huge and he would spare no effort to open each door to get a signal. Maybe one of you two was drunk and needed some help and wouldn’t be able to speak. Jongseong thought he should have left someone from the company to keep an eye on you at least, so he would know where you were just by asking. But that annoying man rented his and Jaeyun’s time in such a long and tiring way that he didn’t even have time to think.

“Park Jongseong?” he didn’t want to see anyone right now other than you, but the call of his name made him turn towards the vast and empty corridor. Jongseong looked at the woman who was approaching, an eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips that made him wonder what was going on in her head.

“Yes, it’s me” he tried to sound as cordial as possible, as he did with everyone he talked to that night. The woman took a few more steps before stopping dangerously in front of Jongseong, her hand stopping halfway as she wondered whether or not she should raise it and touch him.

“I was looking for you.”

“Looking for me? What would be the reason?” he asked, a little confused when she took another step and Jongseong felt his back hit the wall furiously.

“I can breathe a sigh of relief because my husband finally closed a deal with you” her hand ran down his chest to the top button of his shirt, where she quickly unbuttoned it. Jongseong would have raised his hand to close it and push her away, but the woman was so close that any movement could make him touch some part of her body that he didn’t want to do at all. “That way I can go to your office often. Such a wonderful view…” she held his face between her hands, this time there was no way to think and Jongseong touched her hands to push her away, mentally cursing himself for touching the skin of another woman who wasn’t you.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you understand” he tried not to sound as nervous as he was, breathing deeply so that his tone wouldn’t falter and remain serious. Jongseong looked at the woman who was trying to maintain an innocent look, which didn’t match what she wanted to do. “I closed a deal with your husband because the offer was great. And I have a girlfriend, so—”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Jongseong” she laughed. “That doesn’t work in the business world…”

He felt sorry for the man who had married her because if this was happening here, Jongseong couldn’t count how many times the woman in front of him had slept with her husband’s business partners. Did she think she would do that to him now? It made his stomach churn at the thought.

Jongseong looked ahead, looking for some sign that she was backing away so he could gently push her away and leave as quickly as possible. But again, the woman didn’t seem to give up and held his face tighter. Her perfectly painted and aligned nails dug into his skin strangely and painfully. Jongseong wanted to scream and tell all etiquette and manners to go to hell, he just wanted to get out of there. The woman stood on her tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him, but he was faster. His face turned in the opposite direction to hers to feel her lipsticked lips touching near the final line of his jaw.

This was something he would have to explain to you, the lipstick mark on your skin or any mark on your face that would have been left if you weren't at the end of the hallway. He felt his chest burn and his eyes widen when your figure was there, standing there and completely confused. Jongseong found some strength to push the woman in front of him without caring about any explanation. The only thing on his mind was to run towards you even though you were running in the opposite direction this time.

“Y/n, wait!” he shouted as loud as he could, running through the hallways until he came down the stairs after you. Jongseong didn’t know how you were so fast after a few cocktails, not even he was able to catch up to you.

The sea of ​​people flooded the hall and the entrance, coming in and out, walking in all directions. But he was focused on your figure heading outside, so that’s where he would head without thinking twice.

“Y/n, please listen to me” Jongseong shouted once more, his breath hitching as he continued running towards you until he saw that there was no escape for you anymore. The parking lot wall is the barrier to stop you from continuing to move away from him “Love, I—”

“Don’t call me that, please” by the tone of your voice he knew that you were holding back tears, and it hurt to know that it was because of him. Because of what you had seen. But what Jongseong wanted most was to explain to you everything that had happened.

“I call you because you’re my love” he continued, walking towards you even though you still had your back to him. Hearing each step of your boyfriend getting closer and closer until his warmth was against your back, “Can you turn around to face me, please?”

As much as he wanted to hold you, turn you around, and kiss you to get rid of any thoughts, he knew he had no right to do that at that moment. So he waited patiently until you turned around, finding your face blurred by tears and your eyes slightly red.

Jongseong hated himself so much at that moment. He hated himself more than anything in the world.

“Did you see everything that happened?” he asked, seeing you nod slowly, “Did you see that I tried to push her away—”

“Jongseong” he froze in place, it was his turn to widen his eyes because you never called him Jongseong. Even when you were mad at him, his name never left your lips. That hurt more than seeing you cry.

“Don’t call me that, you never call me Jongseong.”

“Jongseong” you repeated, your lower lip trembling and your eyes burning a little more. The nail marks on his cheek were still evident. You had seen everything from the beginning, since when that disgusting woman showed interest in your boyfriend thinking he would be another one she would sleep with. The shock had been so great that you hadn’t been able to scream to push her away or do anything, so it was only when your boyfriend walked away that your presence had been noticed in that hallway. You just wanted to find a bathroom to use, anyway, and ended up finding the worst scene that you wanted to forget now “If this happens at a dinner I've been invited to, I wonder what must have happened on the nights you were alone since we started dating.”

“What? Honey, no—”

Your broken sob was the last thing he heard before you walked away again. The desire he had at that moment was to go back to that hallway and make that woman tell him the whole truth about things. Jongseong had never been through a situation like that, the shock running through every fiber of his body as the vivid image of your face contorted in pain and sadness broke him more and more.

“Fuck” he threw his head back, wanting to scream as loud as he could until that horrible feeling passed. Even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Two weeks had passed, and Jaeyun counted on the calendar on his desk and his cell phone. Today was the end of two weeks exactly in which Jongseong had not left the office for anything. Meetings were postponed or only attended by Jaeyun. Calls were answered only by his secretary, with the answers to reschedule visits or that he was not available at the moment. And seeing him in the company hallways? No one did that. Jongseong would arrive an hour before everyone else arrived, only the security guards were able to find him wandering the hallways before entering the confines of his office and leaving an hour after work ended. He didn't want to be disturbed by anything.

"This is getting worrying" Jaeyun looked at his best friend's secretary. Yuna was a cool intern – and a gossip – but not in a bad way, she was the one who passed on all the information to him while Jongseong didn't participate in it. Jaeyun was a more relaxed boss, according to her.

“He postponed another meeting for next week” Yuna looked at the notes of all the interactions she had with the boss and owner of the company. Each message was written down with details and the times the contacts had happened, all so she could keep him informed later. “Do you think we should do something?”

“What if I go to his office?” Jaeyun asked her.

“Mr. Sim, you know that—” she hesitated a little, unsure of what to say, but when Jaeyun continued, Yuna knew she wasn’t that wrong.

“We won’t know without trying, right? And he can’t fight me for this, don’t worry” Jaeyun smiled at the girl and pushed herself off the counter of her desk, walking to Jongseong’s office. He missed the sigh of distress that Yuna gave, knowing the boss and owner of that entire building well. Jongseong would probably scold Jaeyun for bothering him like he did two days ago when Jaeyun insisted that he go out at least to eat something.

With a determined sigh, Jaeyun didn't even need to knock on the door and entered the room like he always did. This time just opening the door wide and walking in.

“I told you to get out of here, Jaeyun” the other didn't even need to take his eyes off the computer to know that, once again, his best friend was trying to interact.

“Since when do you call me Jaeyun, you shit?” he walked over to Jongseong's desk, looking around and noticing the mountain of trash and takeout food. His best friend wasn't like that, never had been. This was worrying him to an absurd level and he didn't know what to do.

Or he did know, he just wanted to test it a little and see how far he could go.

“Since when do you disobey my orders” Jongseong finally looked at him. Dark circles under his eyes and eyes almost screaming for a minute of rest where he could lay his head on the pillow and get some sleep. Jaeyun wondered how long his best friend slept each night to be like that. “Now, please, get out of my office.”

“No” he replied, making Jongseong’s eyes widen. “What? Did I stutter, Jongseong?” leaning on the table, his hands in front of his body and his head down, Jaeyun looked at him a little more seriously. Looking away across the table, Park Jongseong hated how much the boy in front of him knew him so well. He didn’t want to be like that and he also didn’t want anyone to see him like that.

“Jake, go to your office, please?”

“Only if you go home, take a shower, and get some sleep” he said. Jongseong gave a sad smile, really wanting things to be that simple. That he could get at least a little sleep, but every time he laid his head on the pillow, the image of your face came to his mind.

The first few nights, Jongseong could still see the sadness in your eyes and your last words to him before running away. Then he forced himself to think about the good times you shared during the time you were together. Your smile and your touch that he missed so much. The way you called him and told him your feelings in a melody so beautiful that it was the sound of your voice. Jongseong was lost without you.

“That’s not going to happen…”

“Either you go home, or I—”

“What?” he asked, interrupting Jaeyun in the same second.

He seemed to think for a moment, pondering whether to say what was on his mind or leave Jongseong on the edge of curiosity. He decided to go for the second option and pushed himself away from the table.

“You’re leaving this room today, wait for me” he said finally, walking through the room until he left without giving his friend a chance to answer.

It was all or nothing, he needed to do this even if it cost him something that Jaeyun didn’t even know what it was. But the sadness and worry of seeing his best friend like that was even greater than anything, so he would risk everything to make Jongseong leave that room that day.

“So?” Yuna asked curiously, looking at Jaeyun with expectation and excitement. She knew that the two were best friends and could get everything from each other.

“I couldn’t get him to leave there” he began saying, seeing that she was getting a little disappointed with what she was hearing. But as soon as Jaeyun took the cell phone in his hands, continuing to talk, Yuna smiled along with him, “But I know someone who can get everything from him.”

The sound of the computer keyboard combined with the traffic outside the building was the only sound Jongseong had heard for almost forty minutes. No interruptions from his best friend or his secretary. No one had contacted him through Yuna, much less asked to speak to him. It was incredibly peaceful, although his mind was in turmoil.

Jongseong was grateful for the amount of work that occupied his mind for most of the day, although he needed to review some documents since he got lost every time he looked at the photo on the table. Your face in it made him sigh and stop for a few minutes, messing up his hair and wondering what was going on. He wished he could go back in time and simply switch places with Jaeyun and go look for you and Bonnie downstairs. Or better yet, not accept the deal with that man and not have to deal with his freakish unfaithful wife.

Everything would be in perfect condition and Jongseong wouldn't have lost you like that. He felt incomplete and unhappy, just like he used to before he met you.

Jongseong's thoughts screamed self-deprecation. He would have continued doing this for the rest of the day if he hadn't been interrupted by a knock on the door. It wasn't Jaeyun, he was sure of that. His best friend never knocked on his door. It could only be Yuna, and she wasn't to blame for what was happening, so when he politely asked her to come in, Jongseong wasn't surprised to see her standing with the door open.

“Mr. Park, sorry to bother you” she began, almost as if it had been rehearsed during those two weeks when Jongseong had asked her not to be disturbed. He knew she was making an effort to keep him informed of everything even though he didn't want to be there.

“Do you need anything?” he asked her.

“There's an urgent visitor for you” Yuna pressed her lips together, a little hesitant. Jongseong frowned for a moment, not remembering anyone who was an urgent visitor for him.

“Is this another one of Jaeyun’s works? Because if it is…” when Yuna didn’t answer, Jongseong knew his best friend was involved in this. He sighed heavily, taking his hands away from the computer and throwing his head back. “Okay, send Jaeyun’s visitor in, then.”

The last time Jaeyun had mentioned an urgent visitor, he had taken Sunghoon and Heeseung into Jongseong’s office so they could drink bottles of soju since he couldn’t leave until he signed the last report of the week. He didn’t want to drink right now, no drop of alcohol would be able to take away what he was feeling. He appreciated his best friend’s attempts even if he didn’t know if it would work this time.

But Jongseong should also know that Jaeyun never messed around. Not when it came to getting what he wanted since the two had become friends since they were little. When he heard Jaeyun say that he would get out of that office at any cost, he didn't know that the boy would appeal and call for you. You were standing at the door of Jongseong's office now.

“Make yourself at home, Miss Y/n” Yuna’s voice brought Jongseong back to reality as soon as she said your name, waving in your direction and smiling widely as she left you there, closing the door to leave just you and him inside the room.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he almost stumbled over his own words, stuttering a little as he abruptly got up from the table, dropping some papers. Jongseong tried to fix some strands of his hair, which was certainly more disheveled than when he woke up.

“Jaeyun called me” as he heard your voice for the first time, almost like a song hypnotizing him, Jongseong walked around the table and approached you in slow steps. Looking your body up and down, your loose and casual clothes, just as he remembered, making you so beautiful that he swore he felt his heart swell even more. “Aren’t you eating, Jongseong?”

Now his heart could shrink in size when he heard you call him Jongseong again, falling back into the reality of the state you two were in at that moment. But he didn't care, he wanted to be close to you, so he stopped in front of you and let you look at him.

Apart from you, only Jaeyun was capable of that, of looking so closely. So he let you examine every particle of his face. From his unkempt skin to his tired eyes. His disheveled hair and his shirt looked like they hadn't been ironed or cared for in a few days as if Jongseong had just taken the same fabric and put it on in the rush of the moment.

“Sorry, I—” his adam's apple moved as he searched for the right words to answer you, feeling his eyes burn when he looked at you so closely “I don't want to leave the office, so…”

“So you're leaving now” you wanted to be firm at that moment, but you were as broken as he was.

When Jaeyun called you and asked for help, you had already been planning to see Jongseong for a few days. Your anger had already passed and you managed to cool your head about everything that had happened, talking to Bonnie and listening to the story Jaeyun told her about what had happened. It matched exactly what you saw from the beginning. Jongseong was not and never had been a cheater and a betrayer, you knew that. But your emotions were so intense that you could only think of the worst and wanted to push him away, although you didn't know that the result of that would be the man in front of you like that.

“What?” he asked.

“Let's go home” Jongseong almost moaned tearfully when your hand touched his face, letting a tear escape due to the sudden contact. Pulling his face close, you felt his forehead touch yours “You go take a shower, I'll cook something and then we can talk, okay?”

“As you wish” he replied, his voice choked and his breath mixed with yours due to the closeness you two were in.

You reluctantly walked away, looking around and sighing at the carelessness of the place Jongseong had left. You felt guilty for getting him into that state, all it took was one phone call for him to come and meet you and the two of you to sort things out. But you also knew that if you had done it earlier, it might not have been the right time and you both might not be able to talk. You preferred not to think about what could have been and just focus on what was happening now.

Jongseong approached the chair and grabbed his blazer, throwing it over his arm and turning off the computer screen. Spreadsheets and files were being saved automatically and he wouldn't have to worry about that, because he was finally leaving his office with you.

Your steps were slow in front of him as if you were waiting for him to catch up with you until you reached the door to his office. Looking over your shoulder, you gave a small smile when you saw him standing right behind you. Then your actions were almost automatic, reaching out your hand for Jongseong to hold. He intertwined his fingers with yours. Your soft, velvety skin contrasted with the roughness of his hand, sending a shiver through both of your bodies.

Your grip between his fingers was enough to make Jongseong smile a little, his heart almost jumping out of his mouth at your smile for him. With your free hand, you opened the door, going out first and taking Jongseong with you out of the room.

“Shit, I knew it” Jaeyun almost shouted along with Yuna when he saw you leave the room hand in hand with Jongseong. The two of them looked like teenagers watching a couple of friends make it work because Jaeyun and Yuna clapped their hands against each other in a funny celebration.

“Yuna?” Jongseong called for the secretary, causing her and Jaeyun’s celebration to be quickly interrupted. “Tomorrow I’m going to take the day off, rest… Can you pass my demands on to Jaeyun?”

“Sure, Mr. Park” she smiled at you and Jongseong. Jaeyun didn’t even care that he would have double the work to do. If that meant his best friend would be resting, then he would be fine.

“Thank you” Jaeyun hissed at you as Jongseong turned his back to head to the company elevators. You thanked him back, waving to Yuna as well and following Jongseong to the path he needed to take.

A lighter mood settled between the two of you and even spread to Jaeyun and Yuna. The boy was right when he said that you would be the one to get Jongseong out of that place. He should have bet with Yuna that this would happen because he would have won. But the only thing he got was extra work for an entire day.

But as Jaeyun thought, he wasn’t going to complain about that. His best friend’s rest, combined with the well-being of his relationship, was all the boy wanted to happen.

Vulnerability was something that wasn't part of Jongseong's vocabulary until he met you. Before, he was able to handle professional pressures well, finding some amusement when people in the business flirted with him or Jaeyun. Nothing had ever happened, they were both too professional for that, but it always ended up being a topic of conversation for Jongseong the next morning. He also didn't let the few breakups he had gotten him down, managing to settle down and focus on what was most important: his company with Jaeyun.

But as soon as he met you, a lot of things started to change. Jongseong couldn't find people's boldness funny anymore, although he preferred to keep his personal life very private. He didn't cut Jaeyun off when his best friend said that the future Mrs. Park would be waiting. No partner or investor knew your name, but they knew about you just by the way he talked about you.

Jongseong also didn't know if those two weeks had been a real breakup between you and him or if it was just time you needed to get your head together. The only thing he was sure of was that it had hurt him in a way he had never been able to feel before. The anguish and fear of losing you were overwhelming. Jongseong didn't know what to do or what to think, leaving almost all the time lost in thoughts about you and being guided by Jaeyun when he needed some direction in the middle of work for a few minutes.

But as soon as you showed up at his office, showing concern and that you were there, he was able to respond with relief. Driving home with you in the passenger seat, constantly hearing you ask if he was hungry and what he wanted to eat. That was the most distant dream he had ever imagined living with you. The little things – after such a difficult time – made the boy feel luckier and luckier.

He came out of the shower with damp hair after what seemed like an eternity between going to the market to buy what was missing – Jongseong ignored your scolding after he said he hadn't done any food shopping in those two weeks – and arriving carrying the groceries, leaving you in the kitchen to prepare everything. He wanted to go with you, to watch you cook what you two had agreed on. But he also didn't want to be a hypocrite and say he wasn't tired. All the adrenaline mixed with all the distressing feelings Jongseong felt during that time were replaced by the calm that your presence brought to him, so taking a long shower was the only thing he should be concerned about at that moment. Your words after he went upstairs to his room.

Now that everything was finished, he could go down and meet you in the kitchen, guided by the delicious smell of curry that couldn't be missing from that recipe. Jongseong tried not to make any noise as he came down and stopped at the kitchen door, watching you. The care with which you prepared, your quick smiles as you chopped up a spice or added another ingredient to the pan. That was more valuable than anything he could ever have in life.

“Jongseong, what a scare!” you said as soon as you noticed his presence, making his smile widen even more. Taking slow steps, he entered the kitchen and walked a little further until he stopped next to you. Leaning his forehead on your shoulder and inhaling your scent now. The scent he missed even more if he had to admit it. “Are you hungry?” you asked.

“A little” he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his hands on your belly and breathing slowly. “Is it ready yet?”

“Yes, I promise” You smiled even though he wasn’t seeing it. Your speed in the kitchen was enviable, but he knew you did everything in the best way you could just so he could get out of the shower with the food already prepared, needing a real meal.

Between the moment he hugged you and the moment the meal was finally ready, everything passed like a blur for Jongseong. Eating in silence by your side, enjoying the good food and the glances and smiles at each other. He made sure to hold your hand between bites, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and listening to you sigh beside him, everything so perfectly that if it had been Jongseong's delusion and he was still in the office, he wouldn't want to wake up.

“You—” he started to say, you were focused on putting the dishes in the sink and soon turned to him after the two of you finished eating “Do you mind spending the night here with me?”

He looked away after asking, afraid of any reaction from you. Jongseong took a step back to give you space in case you wanted to leave, but he was surprised when he heard you call him slowly.

“Do you want to go upstairs to rest now?” your question could already be a complete answer to him, Jongseong wouldn't even argue anymore. You would stay, he was sure of it.

Pulling you close to him by holding one of your hands, he was content to just guide you to the bedroom upstairs. Without saying a single word for fear he would ask you something and you would go back and leave him there alone. Jongseong wouldn't be able to face that house without you for so long. Even though you didn't live with him yet, at least before your visits were frequent, maybe even overnight stays. But for two weeks, you both lost that.

As soon as you both entered the bedroom, he went straight to the closet to look for something. You waited patiently, walking around the bed and going near the table where he usually got ready before going to work or going out. The smell of the mix of strong perfumes with Jongseong's after-shower scent was incredible. Everything in that room screamed his name and how the particularities of a serious man were completely guarded when he was with you.

“Here it is” he approached you, a piece of cloth in his hands that was only identified by your eyes when he stopped in front of you. It was one of the loose shirts he lent you to wear when you slept here.

No expensive pajamas or lace things, he knew that, your essence could not be bought. And he didn’t even want to. It was this difference between you and him that made the boy fall even more in love with you.

In silence, you began to undress, not caring about Jongseong’s eyes on your body or any corner he wanted to stare at. You, on the other hand, never took your eyes off his face. Wanting to catch every and any reaction as you took off your clothes, remaining only in your panties. Taking the shirt from his hand and easily pulling it over your head and letting the fabric fall on your body.

“Let’s lie down, you need it” you whispered to him, looking him up and down and seeing the small effect you began to have on him. Between the sweetness of the relationship between the two of you, you knew that you were the one who provoked Jongseong the most in this regard, and being away for so long was also making you miss him just as much as he missed you.

Feeling the soft fabric of his bed sheets and the blankets covering the two of you, Jongseong sighed. A sigh of relief as he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and pulled you close. His lips rested on your forehead before lowering his face and resting his forehead against yours this time.

“Do you want to listen to me now?” Jongseong asked you, trying to ignore the provocation from a few minutes ago and focus on something else. Maybe this conversation would be a good one.

“I… would love to” you pondered, but you knew he wanted to talk and that you had come there to talk too. So you let him tell you everything. Every little detail from the first word about how things happened.

You wouldn't hide from him that you had heard this from Jaehyun and Bonnie too, and how you had seen the scene from the beginning. But it happened like a shock and just like Jongseong, you had never experienced that kind of thing in a relationship. Not that you had many, but all the bad feelings invaded you, and dealing with it was something you couldn't do. So those two weeks had been frustrating, but at the same time necessary for you to think.

After all, your relationship with Jongseong was different from everything you and he had ever experienced before. The things that happened had to be dealt with between the two of you, so asking for his help or leaning on him on those occasions was the right thing to do.

“Thank you” he said after a while, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips, searching for any sign that you wanted to talk more or that you regretted talking to him. But the lightness in his expression said otherwise.

“For what, exactly?” you asked.

“For coming here and talking to me” Jongseong began speaking, his grip on your waist slowly softening and giving way to a caress with his fingertips as he lifted the fabric of your shirt to touch your skin. “For taking such good care of me” that innocent and sweet whisper went straight to your heart, but his hands against your skin were doing something else to you.

You had to act fast, not stay behind. The conversation between you had already happened and you needed to take care of him completely.

“But I didn’t take care of you enough” you whispered, feeling Jongseong’s affection stop quickly.

“What? What do you mean—” when your lips pressed against his, he knew what you were talking about.

Letting you kiss him now was the only thing he could handle. Your tongue slowly entered his mouth as Jongseong returned to caressing your waist, pulling your face closer, and pressing you against his chest. In that kiss, everything you two felt for each other during your relationship was transmitted, in addition to what you deprived each other of when you were apart.

Your hands slowly moved towards his chest, making their way slowly to tease him as you guided yourself to the drawstrings of the sweatpants he wore. Jongseong could only sigh and moan against your mouth, the feeling of your hand on his body sending electric shocks through every little fiber of his being.

In a slow but deliberate movement, Jongseong got between your legs and let you continue the path of your hand to his pants. Keeping up with your rhythm as his hands moved up the shirt you were wearing, revealing every part of your skin to him.

Jongseong ran his teeth over your lower lip, sucking on the fleshy flesh of your mouth when your hand finally found his cock still covered by his underwear. Moaning into your mouth had become a habit ever since you kissed him in bed. He made no effort to hide the sounds that were being caused by you. As soon as your hand grabbed the outline of his cock, Jongseong slowly ground his hips to force the length into your palm, so small and yet so strong against his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, Y/n” he moaned as he pulled away from your mouth, his chapped lips shiny with saliva sliding over your skin until they found their way to your neck. Placing small kisses on the area, going down to the particular spot between your neck and your earlobe, Jongseong left a small hickey. Smiling against your skin when you moaned in response, tightening your fingers around his cock.

“Jongseong, please” you asked hoarsely, right after your moan and trying not to falter in your tone. Knowing how impossible it was he teased you even more.

At your request, Jongseong lifted your shirt to below your breasts, enough so that the full view of your belly and panties were exposed to him. With his free hand, he took your hand off his dick and lowered his sweatshirt until he kicked it off his feet, leaving only the underwear and shirt he was still wearing.

“What do you want?” he asked, aligning the outline of his dick still covered by his underwear perfectly with the lips of your pussy covered by your wet and shiny panties. The shape was visible due to your arousal.

“I want—” you moaned loudly when the head of Jongseong’s dick hit your clit. It was sensitive and swollen, and you wanted nothing more than to be touched, but with that attitude, you knew your boyfriend had other plans.

“I asked…” Jongseong pressed his cock deeper into your clothed pussy, his slit covered in precum mixing with your essence as it made your panties even wetter along with his boxers. “What do you want?”

For lack of response, he knew the effect it had when he teased you like that. But Jongseong didn’t want things to end so quickly, so he lowered his boxers just enough to release his throbbing, aching cock. With the same hand, he traced the outline of your crotch where your panties were clinging, feeling the essence dripping from how wet you were.

He looked down for a moment, his fingers becoming almost transparent from how wet you were as he pulled your panties away. With his free hand, Jongseong ran his cock along the side of your panties, feeling the pressure of the fabric as he managed to place his length right above your clit.

“Fuck, you’re not going to— You’re not going to tease me like that” you whimpered a little too late because Jongseong began to thrust his hips slowly, making your pussy soak his entire length. With each touch of his cockhead to your clit, you wanted to cry out from the stimulation.

Jongseong swallowed a loud moan, the noise of excitement growing more intense as he soaked his entire cock in your pussy, his hips slowly moving enough.

“Why, hm?” he asked, his gaze lifting to yours as he picked up the pace. Your fucked out face could make Jongseong cum right there, without even having penetrated you yet. Your legs gripped tightly to his hips, following along as he moved back and forth, his cock stuck between your wet pussy and your panties that were starting to get stickier and stickier, almost transparent.

You pulled Jongseong by the neck, joining your lips to his as you felt him pick up the pace. The sound of his wet movements turned you on even more. His cock moved up and down your pussy as his pelvis reached its limit, only for you to soak his cock all over before his hips came back and did it all over again.

Your lungs screamed for air, but you didn't want to let his mouth go, so you kept it there just to feel Jongseong sharing the same air as you. Your brow furrowed as his pace became faster, more urgent. The shape of his mouth molding to yours, the side of his nose pressing against yours, and your foreheads still together as the two of you synchronized the movements of your hips.

Even though his cock wasn't inside you, Jongseong knew every sign your body had before he came. Every clench your pussy made around nothing and every slow spasm you indicated when you were close. Along with that, his shallow thrusts became erratic, and his nibbling on your lower lip became frantic.

“Jongie” you moaned, a request you didn’t know what it was. If it was for him to let you cum, if it was for him to not stop. You didn’t know, you could have a little bit of everything.

“Yeah, baby?” Jongseong kept his lips close to yours, his gaze never leaving yours because he wanted to look at you when you came.

“Don’t stop” you begged.

“I wasn’t intending to” he smiled with his mouth anchored to yours, his movements a little faster.

Jongseong’s thumb went to the base of his cock, making the completely wet glans – he couldn’t tell what was his pre-cum or his essence anymore – slide over your clit and down your pussy to your hole. He circled it once before penetrating you without any warning.

“Holy shit” you screamed at the sudden intrusion.

“Cum on my dick, baby” he begged, this time with a single strong thrust so that the head of his cock kissed your cervix, where he could reach.

The way your pussy tightened around his cock after so much stimulation and with just one thrust, you came like you had never done before. The trembling of your pussy walls was enough for Jongseong to cum in thick, strong jets inside you. The amount surprised him because he still came as he continued thrusting into you, hearing your whimpers knowing he was already overstimulating you.

Slowly he stopped moving his hips, the last drop of his cum inside you was released, and only then was Jongseong able to rest his body on yours, hugging you without pulling out of you yet.

“That was…”

“Intense” you finished his sentence, running your hands up your boyfriend’s strong arms until you held his face between your hands. The tender and calm look you gave him was nothing compared to what the two of you had shared seconds before.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked you, still panting as he struggled to pull out of your pussy. It was so warm and sheltering him so well, he didn’t want to leave anytime soon.

“Sure, whatever you want” you said.

He seemed to think about it for a moment, smiling slowly as he pulled out of you, careful not to overstimulate you. You both moaned together at the abandonment of your hips, but as soon as Jongseong’s body fell beside you, exhausted, you snuggled up to him and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His scent calmed you down a little more as your breathing became normal.

“Don’t ever call me Jongseong again” he said in a whisper, running the tip of his nose through your hair as his hands rested on your back.

You laughed softly but stopped when he slapped your ass and pulled you closer to him.

“I’m serious, it’s not nice and—”

“I know” your lips kissed him as you lifted your face, looking at him properly. “I won’t do it again. Only if you deserve it.”

“I promise, I won’t do anything to deserve it, love” Jongseong pouted, and you swore it was the most adorable thing in the world.

Because everyone knew Park Jongseong, and here, he was just your Jongie. Your boyfriend, and the man of your life.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[lovrsm]

“ꜱʟᴜᴛ!”

sum: Ferraris golden boy moves over to RedBull Racing Team.

Daughter of the CEO of Red Bull, you’ve grown to love racing, and in the way making new friends. Even if you felt like your world was falling apart, even when you denied it, he was the only one you needed. And there was absolutely nothing that could change his mind about your beautiful self, the way he loves you.

word count:idk, prb 2k

pairing: rb!charles leclerc x horner!reader

warnings: name calling, alcohol, smut f! receiving, first time writing real horny shit!

a/n: sorry for the long intro, I swear it’s worth it😔✋ LOOOL, I WROTE THIS LIKE A YEAR AGOO, and I rlly wanted to clear up my drafts but this is too good to not come out. Yet idk if I have any mistakes, if I do let me know!! Also, checo acting as a dad (#IloveCheco)

Spotify - Apple Music

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

“and I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”

Clink, clink, that’s what our champagne glasses sounded like together.

“Congratulations, what a wonderful year. It’s been a pleasure being with all of you.” Sergio, Checo Perez, made a brief goodbye to your team.

He was leaving Red Bull. Everyone here loved him, and loves him, including yourself. He became quickly your family after seeing him every day for more than 3 years.

“We will miss you” your dad palms his back, making Checo break a smile.

“It isn’t the end yet, you know that boss.” He laughed.

His reasons? Family, everything for him, he couldn’t bare leaving them anymore alone, so he decided after, several years, to leave formula 1. After helping Max to win his championships, he is a fucking legend.

“Well, I won’t leave you alone, I will still drag you everywhere, you know? Even after you leave.” Max and Checo have developed a very special bond, even if social media said otherwise.

“We, wont leave you alone, you still owe me those therapy sessions” I winked at him, he became a very big emotional support for me, believe it or not, he’s got some great advice to give.

“Lovely dinner” I took a picture of all of us with my camera, a goodbye dinner for Checo, and tomorrow, all of the world would see this on the newspaper.

-

“I really don’t know what to do, do you know how many drivers have reached us out in the last 2 hours? I mean, I have a few options but they keep giving me more reasons and… I just don’t know.” My dad was stressed, typing in his computer as if his life depended on it.

“It’s going to be alright, okey? You don’t necessarily need to worry about it right now, we still have a championship to win, you know?” I gave him a cup of tea, just so he could relax a bit.

When something is about work, everything else doesn’t matter. At all.

“We’ll watch your options, alright? I can help you with anything you want” I smiled at him.

“When did you became such a great business woman?”

“You’re my father, of course I’m hardworking.”

-

“Red Bull did it again, Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez, world champion and sub-champion!”

Screams from Max and Checo blasted my ears, P1 and P2, again. Absolutely no mistakes. The internet going crazy. And somehow it all became quiet.

“Who will get that Red Bull seat next year? Will he be a fit to Sergio Perez place?”

Everyone went outside to celebrate, while I stayed so I could hear the TV and media.

what do people want?

“Ferrari didn’t have a great year, let’s hope they both get a better car”

“I agree! Great drivers, such a shame Ferrari has been getting worse every year. What a waste of talent.” The other interviewer said.

Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz appeared in the screen. Both with an obvious forced smile plastered in their faces.

Charles, my secret crush ever since… forever. Was I obvious? Not a single soul knew, well, except him.

-

Charles Leclerc signed in RedBull that was the only thing appearing on my feed right now . Red bull? Bullshit, you mean? What kind of a big lie is that?

Internet was filled with Charles leaving Ferrari for RedBull.

In what twisted universe does that even happen?

I later learned, I am living in that twisted world, and I discovered the great news in social media, and not my own team.

“What do you mean Charles Leclerc, dad? Why wasn’t I even informed about this. Wait, hold on, when did it even crossed your mind?!” I was dignified.

Following around the kitchen.

“I didn’t have to, oh, I do think I need to tell you this, he’s coming to dinner tonight so wear something nice.”

Wear something nice.

Thanks dad, as always, you’re so, so great.

Night time came sooner than expected, if my dad hosts a dinner, even if there’s a million, or just one person coming over, he likes to be extra.

-

Almost time, 8:00 and it is 7:50, all that was missing was the dress. It was placed on my bed. Showing all of it’s beauty.

Navy blue, our color. It was my dream dress.

Light, silky and fancy dress.

I walked downstairs, watching people running and arranging everything, doing just the final touches.

I’ve come to learn, that people arrive late, or just in time. Never earlier.

“Ah, what a beautiful young woman I have here!” Geri, my father’s wife came to greet me.

“You look amazing, I knew that dress would be perfect for you!”

“Geri, you are amazing, seriously. Thank you, and look at you! We both look gorgeous.” I smiled at her and we linked arms, she and I were walking towards the garden, where would be the dinner.

Some big, round, wooden tables were set in the middle. Each seat would have a name, decorated with a white flower in the middle of the plate.

It was easy to find my place. I was at the biggest one of all, where the most important people of this night would be seated.

Lucky for me, his name was right next to my plate.

In a matter of seconds, people started to arrive, old friends, and new faces passed through those doors.

This will be a great night.

“Funny to find you here, it’s been some time since I last saw you…” I rolled my eyes, I (sadly) recognized that voice anywhere.

“Go away Mike.” I grabbed my wine glass and took a big sip out of it. “C’mon princess, where are your manners?” He got too close to me.

“Hey y/n! Your dad was looking for you, like right now.” Max Verstappen here to save my day.

“Oooh that’s unfortunate, I’m so so so sorry Mike, hope to see you later!” I waved him off and quickly moved towards Max who then friendly linked his arm with mine.

“I owe you one.” I sighed. “You owe me much more than 1, little one.” I laughed at him.

We got close to my father, who now had a microphone at his hand.

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming here and be with us tonight. A toast for Checo here!” He announced and a light was shining on Checo, standing from his seat.

“It has been a wonderful year, sadly it has to end. And I know I’m not the first to tell you that an incredible young talent will be joining us for next season.”

There he was. Navy suit with our logo on him. His hair was messy yet perfectly placed. He showed his dimples and I’m sure I heard someone behind me moan at his sight.

My heart rate was increasing slowly but surely.

“y/n, you’re going to squeeze all my blood from my arm. Stop.” Max whispered in my ear.

Shit. I basically dug my nails into his arm due to my tiny crush.

“Yeah, It’s amazing to know that I’m to race with RedBull next year. I hope we can achieve everything we’ve dreamed of. Looking forward to race with my lifetime partner, Max here.”

Now the light was on Max and me. I discreetly let go of max so that he could have the spotlight. As Max waved I looked back at Charles.

The dimples in his face showed even more, he was looking at me too.

“I can’t wait to work with these wonderful people, and I hope we have a great year to remember, thank you and enjoy this night!” He raised his glass and so did all.

“Well, I hope we don’t have any inchidents” Max laughed at his own joke. Dad joke I must say.

“Well If you don’t push me off the track I think we’ll be just fine” his voice gave me chills. I felt his chest on my back.

I wasn’t strong enough to turn around.

“Oh, shoot, you hear that? I think P is calling me!”

“No, Max-” I tried to stop him.

Around Charles, I barely have control over myself.

“Uh-huh, yeah that’s P, she wants to go to the bathroom, and she needs food, ok have a great night bye!” He rushed to god knows where.

“You really don’t want to be with me, do you?” He whispered on my ear. Feeling the heat of his breath.

“Why wouldn’t I? You are such a lovely company, mr Leclerc.” I gathered the strength and turned around, and his beautiful green eyes shined at me, making me blush.

“Look at you, could you get any more beautiful?”

He lowered so he could whisper again. “I’ve missed you” I looked around real quick, thankfully Max took everyone’s attention on the other side of the place.

“Not here, Charles.” I whimpered.

“Yes here, I can finally be with you, do you think I would waste any more time pretending to not love you? If you do, let me tell you, you are completely wrong.”

He kept whispering, his hands slowly finding his way to my hips. And mine to his collarbone.

“It’s not even 9pm, Leclerc, this party hasn’t even started” I fighted against my own will to drag him upstairs.

“You know I’ll wait, just for you.” He winked at me, before slowly letting me go and walking away.

“You’re not coming, mon coeur?” Charles turned around to look at me. “If you insist.” I happily walked by his side.

We walked and talked for a few minutes before Mike magically appeared before us.

“Oh not even 5 seconds and you are already like a slut with the new driver” He looked at me with a disgusted face.

“Excuse her? Don’t tall to her like that. Do we even know you?” Charles used a very cold tone on him. And Mike started to stumble on his word.

“Uhm, no, she does, like I was something to her-”

“Was, that’s a key word, pal. Don’t you ever talk to her, no, don’t you ever talk to any woman that way do you understand?”

Now, I can defend myself just fine, but that right there soaked my pants in an unexplainable way.

“Get out of our sight, man.” And he crawled away.

“That was hot.” I whispered and he blushed. “Your mother did raise a gentleman.” I smiled at him and he gave me a cheek kiss.

-

Lost on the moonlit pool, drinking my… 11th (?) glass of wine at 1 in the morning while everyone was still dancing, was weird.

My feet swinging as I drink the last drop of my glass.

I went on a side quest myself just to get distracted for a bit. All the noise was going to hurt my ears if I stayed any longer.

“Here you are, you got lost?” He sat down at my side. Didn’t have to look, his thick accent gave him away immediately.

I took a long breath and rested my head on his shoulder . “Yes, Charles, I’m going to get lost in my own house.” I felt him move beside me. He then had his feet in the pool, just as I did.

I smiled to myself.

“Has anyone told you just how beautiful you look today?”

“You have, more than once.”

“I couldn’t let that slip, you do look beautiful with that dress. It suits you just perfectly.”

He paused.

“But I bet you’d look much better without it.”

I nervously chuckled at his comment.

“You haven’t talked to me in ages, you came back being a driver for my father, and now you want to have sex? Why don’t you already make me your wife?!” I dramatically fell into his arms

“Ages? I talked to you last week!” He showed his teeth to me in a smile. “That was a long time ago! Besides, you never told me about you and RedBull.” I sit straight up again.

“I needed your dad to love me one way or another. How else am I going to get him to approve of our marriage?” He joked.

“You are unbelievable Leclerc.” I stood up, and grabbed my high-heels on my hand, walking back to the party barefoot.

I surrounded part of the pool, my dad wanted to add a bar right beside it, and it was freshly cemented.

He quickly copied my moves, but instead, he went on a straight line to me, and in a step he covered his feet in cement, falling down and thankfully placing his hands before getting worse.

“Shit!” I ran back to help him. I stupidly placed my hand in the cement, the other helping Charles to get up.

“Look, we made a masterpiece! Your handprints and mine in wet cement.”

“And your feet.” I laughed

“And my feet… I really need to wash this off before it gets dry.” I grabbed his hand and he followed my lead.

If my dad sees that I’m getting his new driver to my room…

We rushed through the multitude of people on the garden.

“Ooh we’re going to your bedroom, can’t remember what happened last time there…” he whispered shouted as we were running up the stairs.

I jokingly rolled my eyes at him. We were giggling like children. He kept making dirty jokes and as much as I tried to control myself I’d end up giggling much more.

We got there quicker than I thought. With my clean hand I closed the door and he was already in my bathroom washing his hands, and feet with water. I ran to his side and did the same with my left hand.

“I’m done” I announced and got out of the bathroom. Deciding to do a touch up for my makeup, thankfully nothing was much out of place, but my lipstick faded.

I slowly applied it looking in the mirror, and through it I saw a curious Charles looking at me. “Why do you even apply lipstick?” He slowly walked towards me.

I took my sweet time spreading the color on my lips.

“Cause we are going back, party is not over.”

“But we don’t need to.” He grabbed me by the waist and turned me around to look at him and he swiftly placed me on the desk. A smirk plastered on his face, as he slowly got on his knees.

“Charles…”

He got to his knees, not breaking eye contact with me.

“You know that if you say no, I won’t do anything. But I’m not hearing those words, am I?” He lifted my dress planted wet kisses on my inner thighs, getting closer to my sweet spot. “You’re so fucking wet”.

“They will know we’re gone” I nervously whispered. He looked into my eyes and stopped, his hot breath making me squirm. “That isn’t a no.” He stood his ground.

And I’m not saying “do it anyway”, but we both know he is going to.

I didn’t even have a chance to think about the cons, his tongue was already doing its job.My legs were closing due to the pleasure, but his strong arms kept them wide open while he drew circles with his thumbs.

“Charles…” he hummed in response, sending me shivers all the way up. He kept licking my folds and as I looked down, he had his shiny green eyes looking at me. A hint of darkness in them that made me moan just at sight.

His head between my legs was surely what heaven looked like.

I curved my back and my hand gripping his hair so he could get closer. He groaned and sucked even harder.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy, I missed this.” His hand moved quickly into me, curling his two fingers finding my g spot. “Fuck, Charles!” I screamed his name while cumming all over him, his tongue taking all off of me, as he rose without slowly moving his fingers again. My hips rocking back and forth as he arose, keeping his hand busy. “Too bad that pretty mouth of yours can’t do much right now. I really would love to feel it sucking my dick.” I hummed imagining it and getting even closer to my second climax.

“I'll take care of you, just so my princess can remember who she belongs with.” His lips were on my neck, whispering sweet nothing between kisses and soft biting. My moans filled the whole room along with the sound of his fingers working on her center.

Charles, Charles, Charles…

Each time his name left your mouth his cock got even harder, to the point where it hurt. In a short motion his pants down and without any warning he thrusted into you. You both let out a pornographic scream. If the music wasn’t loud everyone would have heard you two. The sound of your slaps were evident, heat rising, the feeling of his beard in your neck was all too much. Curses along with moans were the only thing louder. He did a final thrust and immediately pulled out, jerking off and finishing in his hand.

“You just washed your hands.” I joked breathlessly, he messed up with my head real bad. “Couldn’t resist” he smiled, gave me a peck and disappeared into the bathroom. I melted on that spot.

“Come on mon coeur.” What I loved about Charles was that he always cared. we got into the bathroom and I washed my hands, in the reflection of the mirror his eyes were already in mine.

“What?” I asked as the blood rushed into my cheeks. “Nothing.” He gently smiled, and his eyes shined to me in a different shade of green.

-

Taglist

@delicatepeanutsublime @ironspdy @architect-2015 @buendiabebeta @dreamergirlatpaddock @lercvlie

[steveseddie]

home run

steddie | rating: m | wc: 3,6k | no warnings | tags: post-season 4, love confessions, first kiss, first time, dry humping, coming in pants, car sex, or technically van sex

for week two of @softsteddieseptember “confessing your feelings” and “road trips” and week two of @steddiesmuttyseptember “backseat” and “clothes on”

read on ao3 here

Steve’s fingers tighten around the grab handle as Eddie’s van skids dangerously on the wet road. “I really think we should stop, Eddie,” Steve says, finally voicing the thought he’s been having since they got caught in the rain.

Eddie leans forward on the driver’s seat, struggling to see the road through the sheets of water slashing at the windshield, the wipers failing to keep up. 

At first, Steve thinks he didn’t hear him over the heavy pitter-pattering but then he waves dismissively at him. Steve flinches when he lets go of the wheel and the van swerves.  

“No way, Stevie, if we stop we won’t make it in time for the game!”

“If we don’t stop you’ll drive us off the road,” Steve says in a bitchy tone. “And then we won’t make it to the game either because we’ll be dead.”

Eddie groans, using a rag to wipe the fogged-up windshield. “But-”

“Pull over, Munson.”

With a defeated sigh, Eddie hits the warning lights and stirs the van to the side of the road. “As Your Majesty commands,” he says, matching Steve’s bitchy tone. 

“Hey, don’t get pissy on me,” Steve protests when Eddie kills the engine. “It’s not my fault the sky opened up on us!”

Eddie slumps into the driver’s seat, air puffing out and making his bangs flutter. “No, it’s mine.”

Steve snorts. “What? You suddenly control the weather or something?”

“No, but I made us stop for lunch and waste time and got us trapped in this fucking downpour!” Eddie crosses his arm over his chest, pouting. If Steve didn’t think Eddie would throw him out of the van for it he would lean over and pinch his cheek and call him adorable. 

“We had to stop for gas anyway,” he says instead, shrugging. 

“Yeah, but we could’ve had lunch in the van!” Eddie throws his arms up, almost hitting Steve in the face. “It’s called a road trip for fuck’s sake. And now we won’t make it to the game, so it was all for nothing!”

Not for nothing, Steve thinks. They spent the last couple of hours bickering over who got to pick the music and then singing along horribly to whatever they picked to annoy the other one further, which is one of Steve’s favorite parts about driving around with Eddie. That and watching him while he drives, less worried about being caught staring at him. Not to mention the milkshakes they had at the diner where they stopped for lunch were the best Steve’s ever had. Even if they miss the game, which was the whole reason for this trip, Steve would be okay with it. 

But Eddie sounds genuinely upset about it so Steve turns to face him and puts his hand over his knee. “I bet we can catch the rerun at our hotel in Chicago.”

Eddie huffs. “That’s lame, Steve.” His eyebrows knit into a frown. “You were supposed to be there and watch it live, maybe get hit by a ball or something.”

“Eds, why are you so butthurt over this?” Steve can’t help but ask. Missing a basketball game—even a big one that they drove all the way to Chicago for—shouldn’t be getting under Eddie’s skin like this. “You don’t even care about basketball.”

“No, but you do,” Eddie says with a sigh. “And you- you’re always doing things for the kids and for Buckley and for me so I just wanted to do something for you. Wanted us to do something you want for once. That’s why I got the tickets.” 

It’s Steve’s turn to frown. “Wait, I thought Wayne got the tickets from someone at work.”

Eddie hangs a hand from his neck, watching the rain fall through the window, not meeting Steve’s eyes. “Er, no, I asked him to get them for me like a month ago when he drove to Chicago for a job,” he explains shyly. “’Cause, you know, you need a credit card to get them on the phone and well, obviously I don’t have one and neither does Wayne, so-”

“Why?”

Eddie blinks at him. “Because we’re poor?” 

“No, Eds, why- why did you lie about the tickets?” 

“’Cause I knew you’d get all—” he gestures wildly at Steve, “—you about it and offer to pay for them or something and that wasn’t the point. The point was me doing this for you, y’know? Driving four hours just to sit and watch a game that I don’t give a fuck about because you give a fuck about it and I give a fuck about you. Many fucks, in fact.” He lets out a shaky laugh in the middle of his rambling. “Fuck, Steve, I actually love-”

And then Eddie snaps his jaw shut so hard that Steve is surprised he doesn’t bite his tongue off. 

One minute he’s looking at Steve like a startled deer, big cow eyes wide and spooked, and the next he’s flinging the door open and stepping out into the rain before Steve can do anything to stop him 

He blinks at the empty driver’s seat. “What the fuck?” 

He watches through the windshield as Eddie paces anxiously in front of the van, muttering to himself as the rain hammers down on him, soaking his hair and clothes. With a sigh, Steve grabs his jacket from the backseat, zipping it up before following Eddie out of the car.  

“Eddie! What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m drowning myself,” Eddie says, running a frantic hand through his rapidly soaking hair and talking just loud enough for Steve to hear him over the rain. 

“Why?”

Eddie whirls around to face Steve. His bangs stick to his forehead because of the rain and Steve wants to reach over and brush them back. “C’mon, Stevie,” he says, shaking his head. His expression is open, vulnerable, terrified. “You’re smart enough to know that was a love confession. And a shitty one at that.”

Steve blinks, feeling droplets of water fall from his eyelashes. His heart hammers in his chest. “You- you love me?” 

A laugh escapes Eddie’s lips—a mix of amusement and incredulity. “Sweetheart,” he says, his lips curling into a sad smile. “I’m so in love with you that I was down to drive us through a torrential storm to watch dudes throw balls into laundry baskets with you.”

Despite the rain soaking Steve’s clothes by the second, he feels warmth spreading through him at Eddie’s words. “Eddie-”

“I don’t expect anything, Stevie,” Eddie interjects. “You don’t even have to let me down gently or apologize-”

Steve tries again, taking a step forward, but Eddie instinctively takes a step back. “Eddie, I’m not-” 

“I know-”

Steve growls, exasperated. “No, you don’t know,” he snaps when Eddie keeps interrupting him. “God, you’re infuriating sometimes.”

Eddie laughs but it’s a little shaky. “Big word, Stevie. Twenty points for you.”

Steve shakes his head. He closes the distance between them in two long strides, trapping Eddie against the hood of the van. Eddie looks spooked at the proximity so before he can run away Steve cups his cheeks, keeping him in place. 

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh, Steve?” 

“I need you to shut up, Eddie,” Steve says, brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheekbones. His lips part, undoubtedly to make another remark but Steve beats him to it. “‘Cause I’m trying to tell you I’m also in love with you.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut immediately.

“There you go,” Steve says with a chuckle. His stomach flip-flops in anticipation. “Eddie, you know I love basketball-”

The words make Eddie frown. “This isn’t the love confession I imagined-”

“Christ. Shhh!” Steve presses his finger against Eddie’s lips with an amused chuckle. Eddie yelps but otherwise stays quiet. 

“I said I love basketball,” Steve starts again, “but I’m happy to watch it just on TV, y’know? The reason why I agreed to a four-hour drive for a game was you. I wanted to go on a trip with you. We hang out all the time and it’s never enough. I’m fucking- obsessed with you! Christ, I love you!”

His finger leaves Eddie’s lips, telling him it’s okay to talk, but Eddie just blinks at him, and for a moment, all they can hear is the rain falling around them. 

Finally, Eddie clears his throat. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you do a love confession,” he says in an awed voice.

“Do I get another twenty points?” Steve asks with a chuckle.

Eddie giggles. Steve has to fight the urge to pinch his cheek again. Adorable. “You get all the fucking points, sweetheart, that was romantic as fuck.”

His thumb brushes over Eddie’s cheeks, warm and pink despite the cold. “Do you know what’s more romantic than a love confession in the rain?” He asks. Eddie shakes his head, water dripping from his bangs. “A kiss in the rain.”

Eddie’s eyes widening in realization are the last thing Steve sees before he surges forward, all but mashing their lips together. 

There’s barely half a second of Eddie’s frozen shock before there are hands in Steve’s hair and lips moving slowly and tenderly against his own. Steve moves closer, pinning Eddie against the hood of the van, one of his hands leaving Eddie’s face to settle on his waist. He wants to move even closer but the angle is a little uncomfortable, and he can’t lay Eddie down against the hood the way he could do if they’d drove the Beamer. Also, the rain isn’t stopping and Steve is starting to get cold after standing under it for so long.

So he breaks them apart despite wanting to kiss Eddie longer but keeps their foreheads pressed together. “Can we get back in the van now? Before we drown for real or catch pneumonia or something?” 

“Whatever you want, baby,” Eddie says in a deep voice. The way Steve shivers this time has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with how Eddie sounds and what he just called Steve. 

Hooking his fingers through Eddie’s belt loops, Steve drags him towards the passenger’s side, pausing to kiss him every few steps. There, instead of reaching for his door, he reaches for the sliding door handle. 

Eddie frowns. “Wait, I thought-”

“It’s still raining.” Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “We’re not going anywhere for a while.” He kisses the other one. “So I thought we could keep this going in the backseat.” He places one final kiss on his lips.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he nods fiercely, grabbing a fistful of Steve’s jacket and pulling him inside. They land on the backseat, Steve on top of Eddie, and while that’s exactly what Steve was after when he led them to the van, he still needs to get the door. Eddie doesn’t seem to care about that—he hooks his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. 

Steve lets it happen for a moment, already addicted to kissing Eddie but he must put a stop to it when he feels water starting to get into the van. He pushes himself up, his hands on either side of Eddie’s head, and effectively separates their lips. “Gotta get the door, Eds,” Steve says when Eddie whines. 

“Hurry up,” he says impatiently. With a nod, Steve goes about sliding the door closed and then he’s back to hovering over Eddie, leaning down to bring their mouths together again. This time he licks the seam of Eddie’s lips, and when he parts them immediately, Steve slides his tongue inside, licking into Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie makes a small needy noise in the back of his throat and Steve takes it as approval, kissing him harder, letting one hand snake under Eddie’s wet shirt, feeling him up, while he holds himself up with the other one. Eddie’s hands make their way to Steve’s hair, fingers tangling in the wet strands, tugging lightly on them, making Steve momentarily break the kiss so he can let out a moan when the tug goes straight to his dick.

Eddie looks up at him with dark eyes. He gives his hair another tentative tug to see if he can drag that sound from Steve a second time. 

He can. 

“Fuck, Steve,” he whispers like he can’t believe this is happening. “You’re a dream.” 

Steve desperately wants to hear Eddie too, so he starts kissing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. Eddie tips his head back with a heartfelt groan, exposing the column of his throat. Steve takes that as an invitation, sucking at the pale skin until a mark starts to bloom. He bites lightly at the skin and soothes the sting with his tongue, listening to Eddie’s delicious string of gasps and whines.

His legs come up to wrap around Steve’s waist, pulling him closer until Steve is lying on top of Eddie. 

Eddie who is hot and close and already hard against him. 

Steve is hard too, he can feel his dick pushing against his wet jeans. He knows they should probably get out of their wet clothes soon but right now he doesn’t have enough patience to do that. He doesn’t want to waste any time that could be spent kissing Eddie, not until they’re satisfied. If the way Eddie is wrapped around Steve like a needy koala means anything, he doubts Eddie wants that either. 

So instead Steve slowly moves his hips to meet Eddie’s. 

A whimper slips past Eddie’s lips at the friction. “Oh, fuck, Steve,” he pants against Steve’s lips. The way Eddie moans his name goes straight to Steve’s dick, making it twitch as it begs for more friction. He rolls his hips again. “Jesus, fuck- I’m- sweetheart-”

“You okay?” Steve asks when Eddie can’t seem to finish a sentence. When he rolls his hips again, Eddie makes a noise like he’s dying, failing to utter any words. “Want me to stop?”

“No!” Eddie protests, shaking his head, hair wild and fanned out on the seat. “Don’t stop. Just uh- fair warning, I’m about to embarrass myself and come in my pants like- fuck, like this.” 

Steve groans. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

“Yeah?” 

Nodding enthusiastically, Steve starts rolling his hips at a steady pace. “Yeah, I want it. Wanna make you come, Eddie. Wanna see you.” 

“Holy shit, Steve,” Eddie swears. On the next thrust, he pushes his hips up just as Steve grinds down and they both moan loudly.

They fall into a rhythm after that, approaching the edge quickly. Hoping to make Eddie come first, Steve wedges his hand between them, cupping Eddie’s hard dick with his palm. It feels big and Steve’s brain feels like it’s melting out of his ears when he so much as thinks about touching Eddie without his jeans and his underwear in the way, about blowing him, about Eddie fucking him. His own body jerks almost involuntarily against Eddie’s thigh. 

He does his best to rub the length of Eddie’s dick as best as he can through his clothes, pressed so close together. Eddie lets out a string of moans and whines that shoot sparks of pleasure down Steve’s spine.

“God, Eddie, you’re so- you sound so good. So fucking hot.”

Eddie shudders against him, his breaths coming quick and short. “Don’t stop,” he pleads even if Steve has no plans to stop what he’s doing, not when he’s so close to giving Eddie what he wants. Instead of stopping, he squeezes the head and strokes him faster. “Fuck, Steve, I’m close.” 

“Yeah, come on, Eddie,” Steve urges him on. Eddie sobs against Steve’s neck, hips jerking along with the movement of Steve’s hand. “Come for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

Eddie whines, high-pitched and needy. “Steve, I’m gonna-” He bites out just as Steve squeezes the head of his dick, his words trailing off into a moan as he tips over the edge. Steve watches Eddie come undone for him—head thrown back as his eyes roll into his head. It’s the hottest thing Steve has ever seen. It’s too much. He needs to come.

He grinds against Eddie’s hip, hard and desperate, chasing his own release as Eddie catches his breath. He’s so close already. 

Eddie must realize it too. “Your turn, sweetheart,” he tells him, his hand finding its way back to his hair, brushing it away from his face. “Fuck baby, you look gorgeous like this. Flushed and needy. Humping my leg, so desperate,” he whispers, kissing Steve’s cheekbones, his jaw, his neck. Little whines escape Steve’s lips as Eddie starts to run his mouth.

“Can’t wait to do this somewhere else, Stevie, someplace where I can drop to my knees and blow you.”

Steve’s breath hitches, his dick twitching when he pictures Eddie on his knees for him—lips wrapped around his dick, eyes molten as he looks up at him. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah? You want that, sweetheart?” 

Steve nods eagerly. “Y-yeah. Wanna blow you too.” 

One of Eddie’s hands cups his cheek. He runs his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip. “‘Course, baby. You can do anything you want to me.” 

Steve’s hips stutter, his brain foggy as he gets closer. “Y-you too. Anything. Fuck, Eddie, please.” 

“I got you, baby, c’mon,” Eddie whispers. His hand travels down until he’s cupping Steve’s ass, urging him to grind harder against his hip. Steve feels like he’s on fire. He’s so close, he can feel it, he just needs something more-

That’s when Eddie tugs harshly on his hair at the same time Steve grinds down, and just like that, he’s done for—he moans Eddie’s name as he spills into his boxers. Eddie kisses him through it, whispering praises against Steve’s lips that make shivers run down his spine. 

Steve can’t kiss him back at first, the aftershocks of his orgasm leaving him feeling a little stupid, yet Eddie doesn’t seem to mind—happily taking control of the kiss, licking into Steve’s pliant mouth. 

Once his brain comes back online, Steve kisses him back lazily until his neck starts to hurt and the arm holding him up cramps and he has to lower himself on top of Eddie, his head resting on his chest. 

They’re quiet for a moment, the only sound in the van is their labored breathing, as well as the rain falling outside, though not as hard as before. 

Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, which is slowly starting to dry. “We might’ve missed the game—” Eddie starts, and for a moment Steve is confused, having completely forgotten about it, “—but that was definitely a home run.” 

Steve snorts. He gives a weak slap to Eddie’s shoulder. “That’s baseball, you dork.”

“Eh, whatever. I won, ‘s what I’m saying.”

“You lost your money though,” Steve says, absently playing with Eddie’s curls.

“Worth it!” He says, and Steve can hear his grin in his voice. “Hey, it’s not raining as hard anymore. We can try and make it for the last few innings.” 

“Again, Eds, that’s baseball,” Steve giggles. Eddie shrugs, jostling him slightly. “And I told you I’m fine watching it in our hotel. I prefer it, actually. Can’t do this—” He props himself up on his elbow and kisses Eddie, “—at the game.” 

“Good point.”

Steve smirks. “Can’t fuck me at the game either.” Eddie splutters, his eyes nearly bulging out of his face. Steve laughs. “You okay?” 

“Yup! I just- I think my brain broke just by thinking about fucking you.”

“But you want to?” 

A hysterical laugh falls from Eddie’s lips. “Do I- Steve, sweetheart, baby, that’s the understatement of the year. Of the century even!”

Steve smiles, pleased. “Then it’s settled, we skip the game and head straight to the hotel.” He pauses, thinking something over. “Maybe dinner first. It can be our first date.”

“You don’t need to wine and dine me, baby,” Eddie says, “you already got into my pants.” 

Steve glances down at their still wet clothes. “Technically, I didn’t.”

Eddie snorts. “Guess you’re right. Okay! You can take me out to dinner, big boy. Though we should probably change first.” 

Steve shifts, grimacing when he feels the mess in his boxers. The fact that his clothes are soaked only makes him feel more gross. “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

They dig through their duffel bags for dry clothes and use the back of the van to change. Steve lets himself look at Eddie in a way he never allowed himself when he stayed over or when they hung out at the pool and finds Eddie staring right back, both of them smiling—giddy and slightly disbelieving. 

By the time they change, the rain has stopped completely so Steve steps out so he can move to the passenger seat. Eddie simply climbs to the front and flops gracelessly onto the driver’s seat. Steve watches him maneuver his long limbs with a fond smile, reaching over to smooth his hair down. 

Eddie smiles back at him, dimples digging into his cheek. Steve can’t help but lean over the space between them and kiss each of them before finally kissing Eddie’s lips. 

“Are you sure you’re not even a little sad we missed it?” Eddie asks when Steve pulls back. 

He shakes his head, leaning back against his seat. “No, Eds.” He grabs Eddie’s hand, interlacing their fingers together in the space between the seats. “As far as I’m concerned, I already won tonight.” 

“Steve Harrington, you sap,” Eddie teases yet he squeezes Steve’s hand, placing them on top of his leg, refusing to let go, going as far as using his other hand to switch gears as he starts the van. “Let’s make sure you score a few more times tonight.”

“Oh yeah, baby, talk sporty to me,” Steve says in a deadpan tone that makes Eddie cackle loudly.

But despite the two of them joking about it, they score again that night.

And a few more times after that. 

[gyuswhore]

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

kim mingyu x reader

word count: 21k

contains: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [minors DNI], angst, statistics, ur honour they're stupid for one another, descriptions of stress exhaustion and burnout, academic burden, disagreements, mingyu is smart as hell, shitting on bad professors, smut but its a surprise [gyu gets his soul sucked while he's reciting statistical models I mean what]

words of conviction from @highvern: Kim Mingyu, total asshole , 1-800-HOT N DUMB , THEYRE IN LOVE MINGYU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOSER , sick fucking freak , i know when you wrote this you put your head in your hands , OHHHM YW GOD

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

[a/n]: this fic is set in the same universe as @highvern's wonu fic endpoint [to be released], some insight for wonu's pov is included here as is some of Mingyu's pov in cam's fic if you'd like to see more about what happens in the gaps!!

I want to start by thanking everyone who chose to be part of this collab fic and for being the reason cam and I were able to open up @camandemstudios in the first place. everyone's been so kind and cooperative and I still cant believe we managed to convince such amazing writers to join us on this collab journey 🥹 I love u guys

Thanking my wife camothy @highvern for brainstorming with me since day one and for betaing for me. @seokgyuu and @miabebe for also looking over the doc and reassuring me. I'm for sure forgetting someone and I'm really sorry about that, know that I appreciate you just as much 🤍

on that note, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, im HELLA nervous for some reason so plsplspls remember to reblog and send me feedback on how you liked it, I will love you forever <333

masterlist

Monday

A normal person would’ve cried. Perhaps even sued the entire institution for all it was worth. Burn down the world, if it came to it. 

But as you stare at the tiny 37/100 on your screen, you feel…nothing. 

You could’ve said you saw it coming, which you did, but something about blaming someone else for an exam you took was beginning to feel a little manipulative. 

Clicking off the student portal, you huff loudly, five in the morning too early for you to begin breaking down over a grade that was completely unreflective of what you were taught. 

Or maybe it was, because as you count one, two, three hours till your dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, you can only hope you’ll hold back from spitting in your professor’s coffee. But alas, you can only shut your laptop harder than necessary for what it costs and push the grade out of your mind.

You were tired enough to sleep for a couple more hours, and you take it as an opportunity to spite the entire course by giving just as many fucks as your professor did.  

Which was little to none. 

That was a lie—on your part anyway. Because you continue to show up, and probably will until you can put this course and all of its trauma behind you. Even now as you feel the inclining beat of your pulse sitting in the white lecture hall, you know this is all but you versus the universe. 

Dr. Cho might as well have wheeled himself into the room on a skateboard with the way he struts into the room. 

He’s wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off and jeans of a matching finish that do not fit him properly. There’s pins in every last colour on this earth, littering the front of his jacket with sayings that toe the silver controversial lining. There was one that said Vote for John F. Kennedy, another plain black one with I Eat Kids, and of course, the blaring Cunt written in cursive, pink sparkly letters. 

This man that’s pushing into his 60s stands before his slightly wilted class in his crocs, hands on his hips as he heaves a long breath. 

“I have to say, not the turn out I was expecting on that last report.”

He’s talking about the report you coincidentally failed, the same one you were pushed into with little to no direction and a deadline tighter than any you’ve had to bully yourself through. 

“All I can say is to read through the feedback I’ve given and try a little harder next time.” His voice is somewhere bordering comical exasperation. Feedback that consisted of sparing ‘?’’s and ‘no’’s with zero further explanation. He could say more, but you’ve learned that he simply chooses to not. 

Besides the man that drones in the front of the room, there’s another person in the other corner of the lecture hall. He’s hunched over a giant pile of papers, sifting through each and every one with a pen in his other hand. 

The TA doing a mundane task is somehow more interesting than whatever seminars of disappointment your professor was giving. He’s crossing something out on every single leaf of paper that he flicks through, and you vaguely wonder if those were today’s worksheets. 

“...and post hoc tests last week, we can start on Bayesian today. Mingyu will be handing out the tutorial papers.”

The poor TA looks like he thought he’d have more time, snapping his head up to look at the professor with an expression of pure incredulousness. He staggers for a moment before he’s flicking past the pages even faster somehow, striking out what seems like the same instruction in the giant pile of papers meant for an entire lecture hall. There’s a rustle as about a hundred laptops are being pulled out and booted up, waiting for the worksheets to land on the desks. 

You hear the familiar warble of papers being passed out and you watch as the TA pulls chunks of sheets out of the giant stack in his arms to slam down onto the front tables. 

“Pass it down, please… pass it down, please…”

There’s a voice that calls from one of the front seats, “What formula is the sheet talking about?”

Mingyu looks startled as he snaps back to look at the blaring empty whiteboard. In the midst of passing papers, you watch him sprint to the rolling whiteboards, pulling one of the giant flats of white over to the other side, the mechanism slamming into place with a louder than comfortable slam. It reveals another whiteboard underneath with the detestably long formula already written (and the one you’d have to figure out yourself).

 The professor remains with his chin in his hands behind his laptop, unphased. 

By the time you’ve registered the foreign symbols on the board, one of the tutorial papers has made it into your hands.

Sure enough, there’s a quick line across one of the steps with a thick black marker. 

Blinking hard, you attempt to pull yourself into the zone, staring at the white sheet with words that are barely stringing themselves together. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially as you lift your head to find hunched shoulders and furrowed brows all around. 

There’s one person that’s zipping back and forth, just like there always is. 

You watch as Mingyu hunches over certain laptops and whispers in rapid explanation before moving on to the next, a looming sense of dizziness that trails behind him as he shoots up the stairs to the back rows to help someone else. 

There’s a brief consideration to raise your own hand to ask for help, but one look at his disoriented gaze and the amount of hands that shoot up by the second, you guess it wasn’t going to help.

Back you go, hunched over the same wretched paper as everyone else, and praying for some divine revelation. 

Tuesday

Divine revelation did not come to you, but the good sense to make use of office hours did. 

So here you are, a printed copy of your supposedly horrid assignment and a pack of multicolour pens in your tote, and determination in your stride, you make your way to the department building. 

You’ve double, triple, quadruple checked the times to ensure you don’t dip in at the wrong moment, swiping open your phone to re-check the room number yet again. 

Standing outside the door, you knock with mustered confidence, waiting for something akin to an affirmative from the other side of the door. 

Nothing. 

You knock again.

Silence. 

You glance around the empty hall before grasping onto the cool brass handle of the door, wrenching it open just a peep. Poking your head in, you find the room…empty.

The chairs and tables that usually buzz with discussing students lay barren as you step into the room. Moving to look at the front of the room, you inhale sharply as you realise the professor’s desk has been occupied this entire time. 

Except he’s asleep.

No, that’s not the professor. 

Moving closer, you watch the way his back rises and falls ever so slowly, head resting on his arm as his hand hangs limp off the table. Whipping your head around with more attention this time, you attempt to find an explanation written on the walls. But there’s none, even in the papers that litter the table he rests his head on.

You don’t need to see his face to know it’s the TA. But as you stand in the empty room, clutching the straps of your tote, you aren’t quite sure what to do. 

Another glance around the table and you realise his laptop remains on, the screen yet to sleep. Before the obvious issue of a blatant invasion of privacy can befall you, you take a step forward to take a peek. 

It’s his schedule, a million colours blaring on the screen in a colour coded regard with barely any white spaces. It doesn’t take long to find his time slot for right now, red with importance. 

Glancing down, the man remains fast asleep, pen still in hand as it inks a faint line on the page. You look around the room for the nth time, taking constant glances back at his laptop that tells you he’s actively missing something right now. Clearing your throat, you hunch over a tad bit. 

“Um, excuse me.” He hardly moves. So you try a little louder, hunching over his sleeping form even further. “Excuse me.”

You could’ve sworn you heard a snore. 

Out of instinct, you bring a hand forward to his shoulder, shaking ever so slightly as you call for him again. “Excuse me!”

There’s a sharp inhale and he shoots up quicker than you can back away, ensuring you get an entire back’s worth of force as he bumps into you, hard.

“Wh–ow!” The noise is collective, yelps and thuds as you both back away from each other. 

“W–what’re you doing here?” he asks, hair still ruffled and eyes barely open as he stands at the table. There’s a bright yellow sticky note on his right cheek, ink scribbled on in something you can’t decipher.

“Um, it’s office—”

His eyes land on the same screen you were peering into just before and it looks like his life flashes before his eyes, widening at the sight as he slams around the table looking for something. 

“I have to go,” he announces, gripping onto an unstrapped watch as he registers the time, his other hand shoving his laptop and a few papers into a dark messenger bag. 

“Wait, isn’t it still office hours?” you call out as he whizzes past you. 

He’s swinging his bag over his shoulder and half tripping to the door as he calls out, “Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“But—”

“It’s on the portal.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it—” he pauses as he exhales loudly, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to rub across his tired face. “I’ll double check. But it’s Wednesdays and Thursdays from now on. You can wait till I get back if you really want help.”

“How—”

A loud slam! of the door. 

“—long…” 

You’re left draped in silence yet again, the echoes of the slammed door ringing in your startled ears. It all happened too fast for you to process, blinking rapidly as you registered that you were now alone in the room. 

He said he’d be back, but left you with no indication as to when. By the looks of his god awful schedule, it looked like he had something else to attend to right after whatever it was he buggered off to right now. 

Fingers clenched into a fist, you consider your options. You could wait, sit on one of the desks and try to get some work done until he gets back. 

The universe gives you your answer as the door opens with a loud creak in the empty lecture hall. It’s another professor who looks quite startled to find an overenthusiastic student already present for class. 

She stares before craning to look at the room number outside the door, “Am I in the right room?”

“Uh, yes! I was just leaving,” you buffer out, moving to shuffle out immediately. 

You’re halfway out the door when you hear another call of an “Excuse me!”

“Are these your papers?” The professor’s full arms are up as she gestures to the still littered table. 

The No is ready on your lips. Until it isn’t. 

Later on, you’d consider how you left that room with an armful of papers that did not belong to you. How you’d ducked under the table to ensure you’d gotten everything, down to the leather strap watch with the cracked clock face. 

But as you stare at the stack of files and sheets that lay on your desk at home, you only know of the decent act that you’d committed.

And nothing of the hourglass you’d just turned over. 

Wednesday

In your Sent box are three emails sent on three separate days, all asking the same recurring question, all responding with the same recurring reply.

I wanted to confirm the days and times for office hours. I’m aware it’s on the portal but I’d like to reconfirm. 

Regards, YN

Dear YN,

Wednesdays and Thursdays. 4 to 6 PM.

Kim Mingyu, T.A. 

So there you were on a Wednesday afternoon, 3:59 PM sharp, outside the lecture hall where office hours have always been. With the same tote hung on your shoulders, with the same printed assignment and pack of multicolour pens, and a separated stack of files and folders, you wrench the door open with bated breath. 

The blended murmur of the usual hustle and bustle of the appointment reassures you first, the sight of scattered students of familiar faces reassures you second. And most of all, a conscious TA that sits at the professor’s desk, speaking to another student over a laptop screen. 

The man does nothing to acknowledge your arrival, continuing above the babble of students that occupy the chairs and the discussion. It isn’t too full, but considerably busy nonetheless despite how early you’ve swooped in. 

There’s a brief consideration whether this was in the TA’s job description at all, craning your neck to take a full sweep of the room to find a sparing glimpse of the man who should be here. The professor and his loud fashion choices are nowhere to be found. 

The sigh you let out is heavy and full of an emotion you cannot possibly begin to unpack, taking a seat on one of the unoccupied chairs to slump against. Shoulders sagging, you feel every fibre of your being screaming against your better judgement to pull out some work and to be productive while you wait. Reading over your failed assignment for the nth time, the same one that seemed to be some sick form of rage bait. 

You pull a couple things out so as to not look awkward sitting and staring into nothing on an empty desk, uncapping your pen and pulling up your sleeves like there was business to be done. Which there was, but none of which you wished to entertain. 

People watching, you realise, is a lot easier when most of the room is preoccupied with whatever it is they’re doing, too busy to notice your blank stares. 

The faces are familiar, none of which are people you’ve interacted with before but classmates nonetheless. The room is full of shaking legs, spinning pens and hunched backs, not an un-scrunched brow in sight. There’s a particular gaggle of girls somewhere around the front, their tables suggesting a work environment but between the whispers, giggles and glances to the front of the room, you assume there’s one thing in common the both of you weren’t doing. 

Speaking of the front of the room, your matched glance finds you face to face with the student at the main table in the middle of pushing himself off his seat. Your reaction is immediate, hand coming over to slam against the flat of your bag to find the lost straps, moving out of your seat as you keep your eyes on the front of the room. 

Bad luck must be a lover, because you realise quickly that somebody’s already beat you to it. Before you even noticed the first’s intentions to. The student stands beside the chair ready to keep it warm as the previous occupant leaves. 

Slamming back down on your own seat, you realise very quickly that trying to get an audience with this TA was going to be harder than you anticipated. There’s multiple other sounds of frustration around the room, and you doubt the slowly increasing pool of students was going to help anyone’s time management. 

Realising you needed to be a little more tactical if you didn’t want to sit here for the next month and half, you find an empty spot near the gaggle of girls you’d noticed before. It was right up front, just enough for you to hear when the conversation would begin to conclude at the main table. 

Once again, the TA doesn’t seem to notice any of the hustle and bustle of the room as his mouth continues to move rapidly, eyes on the question as he invests himself in his explanation. 

It was unfortunate that the only remaining seat was right next to the louder than necessary group, but you take it as a blessing anyway. It’s then that the one right next to you turns to stage-whisper to you. 

“Are you here to see him?”

You don’t expect a conversation, ears straining to eavesdrop on the other conversation in front of you to find your cue. You snap to look at her in surprise. “Pardon?” 

“Are you here to see him? Mingyu?”

“Uh—” Wasn’t everybody? “Yeah, I had a couple things I wanted to clear out.”

The revelation makes her shoulders drop as she lets out a loud sigh, “God, I can never get anything this professor says. I've been here nearly every week trying to figure it all out.”

“Yeah he’s a bit…unorthodox.”

“He’s unorthodox too.” She looks over to the main table towards the TA, chin in her hands as she gazes. “A face like that is rare.”

It wasn’t that she was wrong, it didn’t take more than a glance to convince yourself that Mingyu was possibly one of the more attractive people you’d meet in your lifetime. But the appeal lasted for all of five minutes for you, flitting away when you noticed that he dragged along a very…overwrought… suggestion wherever he went. 

It was clear he was stressed seemingly all year round, nearly just as relaxed as your professor seemed to be. 

But Mingyu was attractive. And you realise how much of a fool you’d sound if you admitted to anything other than such. 

“It is. His willpower’s somehow even rarer,” you add. “Don’t know how he does it.”

“God, tell me about it. Forget getting his number, trying to have more than a three sentence exchange with him without some statistical nonsense involved is near impossible.” Her face has fallen, a tight little frown on her face as she irritates herself with some other memory. 

Taking a glance down at her notes, you find the printed sheet littered with glitter gel pen ink lining the edges, doodles of stars and hearts and small anime characters next to p values and z scores. 

There’s a distinct sound of a chair screeching, and it’s like a large GAME OVER sign is hanging above your head. 

You jerk in your seat, like you could jump over the table and land in the emptying seat with some god-given stroke of luck, like the person already standing next to the chair wouldn’t hold a lifelong grudge against the insane girl with an unnatural acclimation to statistics. 

Although, nothing was more unnatural than the way this TA seemed to know more than the professor. Or you were just really behind. 

Alas, you don’t tumble over the table or kick back your chair, merely making a forceful motion in your seat, palms itching terribly as you watch the girl with her open laptop balanced in her arms move to take a seat. 

You were preoccupied, hence you do not notice that the TA has also noticed you. 

Suddenly, the girl looks startled as she’s told to wait. 

“She’s been waiting nearly a week, I really hope you don’t mind,” you hear him say, voice strained as you turn to look at him. His hands are outstretched to motion towards you a few feet across from him. 

For whatever reason, you had no thought that he might’ve remembered you. Something about his half asleep state when he’d spoken to you, perhaps he might’ve thought he dreamt it. Or he’d just forgotten it altogether. 

The girl glances at you, and her shoulders sag a little as she nods in formality. 

“Thank you.”

It comes out of both of you, snapping to look at each other hardly a moment as you go back to smiling at the retreating student. 

“You can come right after her,” he reassures, his own upturned mouth tired and fading. 

Never have you felt more awkward trying to come around the elongated student tables. 

You pause at first, staring at the table in front of you like it was worth trying to climb over or even crawl under it to get to the desk. Another moment of eye contact as he stares at your unmoving form with a blank look, and the heat pools your skin. 

Staggering for a moment, you end up moving past your chair and walking the way round anyway, the screeching of the chairs only nurturing the existing budding humiliation for no apparent reason. 

It only gets worse when you sit across from him finally, backside barely touching the plastic before realising you’d forgotten your bag in your seat. 

Mid smile in a timid greeting when you make a sound resembling something of an “Oh!” as you spring back up immediately. It’s easier to reach for your bag over the table you were sitting on, reaching across to grab it off your vacated seat. 

The girl you were sitting next to just before makes a motion like she’s trying to help and you have to remind yourself to smile at her as you retreat. 

Mingyu has the very beginnings of an amused expression on his face once you’ve finally made yourself comfortable across from him, clearing your throat just for something to do. 

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring out the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, he blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he actually wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and presentation was off.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes. You don’t have an explanation, but it’s somehow easier to feel helpless in front of the man that’s meant to help you. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he has to say it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered in a rainbow of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 

You only remember when you spot the segregated file of papers in your bag.

“I almost forgot,” you say, slipping the files and tidbits out and in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply, eyes widening as sees the familiar blue. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

Pausing, you wonder if you should make the next comment, the words tumbling out before you can make a decision. “Maybe don’t run out of rooms still half asleep.”

By the grace of God, he laughs, “No, you’re right. I should be careful.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he continues. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

Thursday

True to your punctual nature, you make yourself known at exactly 3:29 PM.

Mingyu is at the desk, conscious and on the phone, eyes closed as he rests his face on his fist.

“I don’t know if I can make time for that—no, I understand, sir,”

Another pause as the noise from his speakers fill his ears, his rubbing over his face a little harsher than you doubt he’s entirely comfortable with. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

His phone hits the table with a heartbreaking thud, both hands covering his face as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. 

“Light on your feet or something? I can never tell when you come in,” he startles when he notices you. 

Sheepish smile on your face, you move to sit down. “Sorry.”

You know it’s invasive, and you also know you might be asking him to break some unknown university code of conduct, but curiosity takes charge as you ask a casual question. “Important call?”

“Uh, yeah, um, just work stuff,” he states, shaking his head swiftly like he’s trying to shake the thought out of his mind. 

There’s a pause while you're slipping your papers and laptop out of your bag, during which he seems to have decided to divulge a little more. 

“It was Dr. Cho. More stuff for me to do,” he says. “As always.” 

“Does he do anything other than show up to class?” you ask through a snort. 

“Of course he does. He cusses out every article he doesn’t agree with, is anything but objective and…the occasional relay of blatant misinformation.” 

For the record, you’d never really heard Mingyu speak at all for the months he’d been TA-ing for the semester. It was small whispers of choice words in a vague voice, the distant murmur as he exchanged with the professor too far for you to hear. 

The voice of the seemingly quiet and diligent TA was never known to you, not until yesterday as he explained statistical models and the flaws of your data presentation. 

Passionately too. Incredulous for a discipline so dry and unapproachable. 

That being said, something about the grit in his voice as he positively sneered through his teeth, badmouthing his professor—it was something you couldn’t quite believe he was capable of. 

“I’m sorry you have to put up with him.”

Once again, by whatever stone of tolerance the universe bestowed in his heart, you watch him sigh and smile, “Anything for that recommendation. And the pay too, I suppose. Besides, he’s done a lot for the area, can’t discredit him entirely.”

With your eyebrows raised, he seems to catch your expression. He pants out a laugh, and your stomach lurches as you watch it reach his eyes, teeth on display, a lurch in his chest; a true laugh. 

Raising his hands in surrender, he responds, “I’m stuck.”

There’s nothing you can do to stop the smile that reaches your own face, turning your laptop screen towards him with the JASP software display. “I am too. Help.”

Help, he does.

Monday

Mingyu ended up giving you an entire hour on that Thursday. 

The thirty minutes before office hours began soared by like they were nothing, and you were ready to take your leave the minute students began to scatter in as the clock hit a swift four. Except he kept going, another 30 minutes in deep concentration as he retaught you nearly everything from scratch. 

Perhaps his proven determination to ensure you don’t tragically fail is what prompted you to do this, standing at the till of your regular coffee shop as you ask, “Make that two, please.”

It might also be important to mention the 7:30 AM on the dial on a bright Monday morning as you walked into your slightly less dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, knowing there would only be one other person insane enough to get to the lecture hall this early. 

Something isn’t right. 

Mingyu is in a position all too familiar to you and everyone else who shares this class, hunched over something or the other in deep focus. The sun pours in through the lifted blinds, the lights of the class turned off as natural light does more than enough of the job. 

It also shows you a blaring hot pink post-it note on his face, all too familiar to a previous interaction you’ve had with him. 

He notices you before you need to announce yourself, brows separating as he recognises you in the doorway. “‘Morning!” 

“...Morning.”

“You’re early,” he comments, straightening his back with a hand behind him for support as you approach. 

“Figured we both needed this,” you hand him a tray with his cup of coffee, eyes still trained on his lower cheek with the paper stuck to it. “It’s a latte with no sugar, but I added a couple packets on the side anyway. Just in case.”

“O–oh, thank you. And you’re right I did need this.”

Now that you’re closer, the scrawled writing on the post-it note is clearer. 

To Do:

Call mom

Shoot myself

“You, um—” It’s alarmingly difficult for you to say it, despite the words being so simple. Hey! You got a lil’ something on your face.

But all you do is dumbly point to your own cheek, eyes trained on the loud piece of paper that tells more than he might like the world to know. 

There’s a loud slap of his hand on his own cheek as he crumples the paper in his hands, bringing it forward to see. “For fuck’s sake.”

“It’s okay! I wanna…shoot myself too sometimes.” 

What the fuck?

“I mean!” you correct louder than you anticipated, before covering with a laugh. “It’s okay, it happens. Good thing I caught it before someone else did.”

It’s all the more petrifying when your voice echoes across the blatantly empty lecture hall, reverberating like it was a punishment for you and your horrid lack of volume control. Meeting his eyes feels like a sin right now, so you keep them downcast and pray he doesn’t try to sabotage your education. 

“Good thing it was just you. Yeah.”

Just you.

“Anyways, I think I’m done with prepping for class. Do you wanna squeeze in twenty minutes of ANOVA?” 

“Have you seen the time?” 

“Not a morning person?”

“Nope!”

“And yet it’s 7:40 on a Monday morning and you’re absurdly early.” His brows are raised as he pulls around the professor's chair to bring it to you. 

“Do you want the coffee or not?” you ask, watching as he drags another chair for himself. 

The both of you sit away from the professors table, coffees in hand as you watch Mingyu run a hand through his hair. 

He gives you a crooked grin,“I apologise.”

“To be fair,” he continues. “I’m not much of a morning person either.”

You narrow your eyes the slightest bit as Mingyu takes a sip of his unsweetened coffee, “I’m starting to think no money’s worth this job.”

Mingyu snorts, coffee suspended in his full cheeks. He swallows with much difficulty before answering, “You’re right. Not sure why I’m still here either. I could get an offer from another professor.”

“And that isn’t happening because…?”

Elbows on his knees, Mingyu swirls his capless coffee cup, the beige liquid moving in a growing tornado. “I like Dr. Cho.”

“You—”

“I know,” he laughs loud, a deep, echoing sound that shakes in your ears. “I know. I sound like a lunatic.”

“I don’t know about lunacy, but insanity can have its reasons.”

“Another would argue that insanity was the very absence of reason.” 

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Excuse me for doing my job.”

He takes another sip of his coffee, and you ask again, “No, but really. I can’t imagine this man having too many redeeming qualities as an educator.”

Mingyu lifts his chin as he presses his lips together. “When I was in my first year, there was this other class I had where we had to write a lab report for the first time.”

“PSYCH101?”

“That’s the one. I’d never written one before, but I liked statistics enough to do a little more digging than what the assignment called for. I ended up finding one of Dr. Cho’s studies, read the entire thing, word for word. I was up all night reading nearly everything he’d published, some of ‘em before any of us were even born.” 

“Oh. So you’re a fan.”

“Everyone tells you to never meet your idols,” he snickers. “He’s done amazing things, but I guess he pays for it with his flawed personality.”

“I’m sorry it had to be you,” you half joke. 

Mingyu looks at you sheepishly, “That might also be my own fault.” 

“Don’t tell me you offered.”

“I might as well have. All my assignments referenced his work the most. I was always talking to him about upcoming research after class, and it was like he was a different person. Forget differing opinions, some of what he was saying was just…plain incorrect. He welcomed the argument though, and I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true. He was always emailing me extra resources which…I’m pretty sure he isn’t supposed to do. Only reason I did so well in his class was because I taught myself.” 

He sighs a loud sigh, straightening his back, “I guess he liked me more than I thought, because next thing I know I’m getting a call over the summer telling me I have a job.”

“Did he…have a TA when you were in his class?” 

“Four.”

“Four?!”

“Two at a time. All of ‘em quit at some point. Said they didn’t want the recommendation or the pay.”

“Would he…not give you a recommendation anyway? You said he liked you.”

Mingyu shakes his head solemnly, “He’s a tough cookie, everyone in the field knows that. If you’ve impressed him, you’ve impressed everyone.”

You take a moment to really absorb everything you’ve just learned. “That’s a sucky position you’re in.”

“Tell me about it. But it’s okay. Three—three and a half more months to go? This isn’t even the worst of it, I’m just dreading study week when I’m gonna have to handle all the crying.”

You wince as he mentions something even remotely close to exam season, still barely at a stage where you can accept you’d be alright with this class. 

“I know you’re not nearly as qualified or experienced as him, but I think you could take over his class.”

“Ever heard of barriers to entry? I’d be ruined if I wanted a career in this.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “All I’m saying is I’ve learned more from you in barely a couple hours combined than the last two months I’ve spent cursing this very lecture hall.”

If you weren’t lying to yourself, you could’ve sworn you saw a blush creep up his face, and paired with his shy laugh and hand at the back of his neck, you can’t help but bite back your own smile. 

“If I can help you then it’s worth losing myself.”

Your heart is in your fucking throat.

“I’m glad when students tell me that,” he continues, utterly oblivious to the landslide happening in your digestive tract. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re—” you swallow thickly because you sound like a toad. “You’re doing more than just something right. You’re saving us therapy and an extra semester.”

He laughs at that, and you wish he’d let you breathe. 

“Feels like I’m doing something wrong sometimes,” he huffs. “My friend’s a TA too and he’s got himself a girlfriend on top of everything else he’s got going on.” 

He goes on, “Do you know how many times I need to ask people to quit twirling their hair? To look at the page and not my face? Asking for my number, I have an email for a reason, for fuck’s sake—”

Mingyu is cut off because you’re laughing, hand to mouth as your shoulders shake through your sniggering. “W–what?”

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “It’s just…It sounds like you don’t know what you look like.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” he frowns.

“Nothing!” you exclaim. “But that’s the problem isn’t it.”

Mingyu doesn’t seem to buy it, even through your coaxing as you attempt to explain to him that he is, in fact, desirable.

“Can’t possibly be enough to distract people,” he huffs in earnest, still hung up on the students he can’t get through to. 

“Majority of the class would beg to differ.”

There’s a pause as he registers what you imply. 

After a few moments, he drops his head, opening his mouth, “Would… you also—”

There’s a loud creak of the door as you hear the immediate noises of shuffling feet and chattering mouths, as low and tired as they sounded. Turning back to look at Mingyu, he’s already jumped out of his seat, wrist to face as he checks the time on the same leather strap watch you returned. 

“That’s our cue,” you breathe, pushing your chair back behind the professor’s desk as you manoeuvre around Mingyu who’s suddenly frantic. 

Of course you realise there’s people other than just the two of you in the room, heightened in seats that are designed to ensure they can absorb every detail that goes on right where you stand in the front of the room.

But you feel the soft of Mingyu’s shirt over his wrist as you give him a gentle squeeze despite it all, barely enough pressure. Half your index finger brushes the skin of his hand, just enough to register how cold your fingertips are and how warm his body is. 

“Relax,” you whisper. “You’ll be better off without all the panic.”

You don’t see his face as you brush past him and up to your seat, looking up to see him disappear somewhere in the corner hunched over another stack of papers. The next time you see Mingyu’s face is when the professor arrives and has begun his regularly scheduled tomfoolery, and realise all the age that can accumulate in the span of five minutes. 

Thursday

Midterm season is nothing you’ve ever really had to worry about. 

Something about the halfway point did make it obvious that the clock was ticking, but danger was far enough away to prevent the ultimate breakdowns reserved for the peak seasons. 

Except this class isn’t ordinary, and it’s all you’re able to worry about all semester. And as Dr. Cho in his Thrasher vest announces the date for the in class midterm, the glass once half empty, suddenly looks very half full. 

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re more ready than anyone else in class.”

“How do you know that?”

Mingyu stares at you blankly, “If I don’t know that, then who else does?”

You have tears in your eyes, which is embarrassing enough since this is the second time you’ve teared up in front of him, but also because you’re in a library following Mingyu around like a lost duck because he insists on putting the books he borrowed back onto the shelves himself after registering the return. 

“But I don’t feel like I’m ready,” you whine, turning the corner as he searches for the last spot to place his final book. 

“You’ll realise just how ready you are when all those hieroglyphs on the page start to make sense to you,” he grunts the last bit out as he reaches on his tippy toes to shove the book back up. 

Dusting his hands off, he adjusts his shirt before turning to you, “You only feel that way because I’ve been giving you harder problems to work on. You’re past the level you need to be at right now. Trust me, you’re more than prepared.”

“But—”

“Listen,” he waves to the librarian as you both leave the library, your eyes still glistening as you fiddle with your sleeves. “It’s only the midterm—”

“Only the—”

“If this goes wrong, I’m just gonna have to work you harder for the real thing. Even though I know it won’t go wrong because I said so.”

You fall into silence as he walks you towards the coffee shop across the courtyard. 

“I’m assuming…” you start. 

“Hm?” he looks over to you.

“I’m assuming you can’t hint at what’s on the paper.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh of disbelief, “You assume correct. I’m not going through hell with this job just to lose it because of a paper leak.”

“But it’s just the midterm,” you mumble, not even close to remotely audible. 

“What did you say?” Mingyu smirks. 

“Nothing,” you huff.

“You know, I’m a little offended you don’t trust me.”

“Who said I didn’t.”

“Well then, stop being such a worrywart.”

There must be something written on your face, because as you pass Mingyu standing at the door he keeps open for you, entering into the coffee shop with fallen shoulders, he seems to change his mind. 

He brings you a coffee, sits you down, and gives you something else you need. “I made the paper. Every question. And I taught you. Every concept. So I definitely know you’re gonna be fine.”

In that moment, with the large glass walls of the warm coffee shop, the afternoon sun comfortably resting on every last object of the room, you don’t see it illuminate anything other than the man before you. 

Perhaps you're being dramatic at the revelation, but you don’t take anything into account as you note Mingyu’s eyes and how they sparkle like they were gifted from the centre of a flaming volcano, brown and polished more than any jewel or stone you’d ever seen. Reaching out to touch him, you know you’d feel nothing but smooth stone, the indentations only possible by a being beyond what you could comprehend. 

He’d given you more than just reassurance, and at times, his timing makes it feel like he was sent from the heavens itself, just for you. 

You sniffle. 

His hands brush over yours as he hands you a napkin, and even more so, cover your own as he takes your freezing fingertips into his own palm, the contact burning you like hot coal. 

You know he’s real. And you don’t know why quite just yet, but that reassurance is enough to give you calm.

Monday

You were alright, but it seems that Mingyu seemed to disintegrate right after he was done reassuring you to the moon and Saturn and Jupiter and back.

It’s midterm day, and as always on every Monday morning, you enter the empty lecture hall with two warm coffees in your hand, ready for whatever shitshow you’d have to perform for today.

It seems Mingyu must defect from at least one regular string of behaviour to remain as Mingyu, who on this occasion, stands before you in a baby blue polo sweater. 

Except you only know that because you can see the unique collar, but it might also be important that his back is turned towards you. 

“Morning, champ,” he gruffs, nothing encouraging about his voice in the slightest. 

Your breath hitches when you finally see his face, eyes sunken in and face pale. His lips are chapped and peeling, eyes half closed. 

“Why’re you looking at me like that, why has everyone been looking at me like that?” he huffs in one long, rapid question. 

“Um, I mean,” you stare at his shirt that’s backwards. And inside out. “I can’t tell if that’s a choice or a mistake.”

Looking down at his front, he looks back up, “What?”

“Your collar is…not at your collar, Mingyu. And your shirt’s inside out.”

Hand at his nape, he reaches his fingers down and finds the unmistakable starched planes of his collar, eyes closing at the realisation. He’s immediately pulling his arms out of the shirt with his eyes still closed like it’d all disappear if he keeps them like that. 

“Wait!” you exclaim before he strips entirely, scrambling to put your coffees down to push him out of the room towards the restrooms. “Do you wanna strip for the CCTVs?”

You only hear him sigh as he moves out and into the hall, doors closed behind him. 

You’ve nearly forgotten about the midterm at this point, your concern now growing in a completely different direction. By the time Mingyu returns, he’s blabbing about wondering why everyone he ran into since he left home was giving him the strangest looks, and then something about you always swooping in to save him before the real bout of disaster strikes. 

It’s hard for you to listen to him when you’re more worried about him passing out, his face doing him no favours to reassure you that he wasn’t a breathing corpse. 

“Mingyu…did you sleep at all?”

“Hm?” His eyes are glazed over and unfocused. 

“Sleep? Rest?”

“Oh,” he frowns. “Not really. I had emails coming in all night.”

“And you were replying?”

“It's the midterm today,” he responds flatly, like it should’ve been enough explanation. 

You almost don’t believe him. “Doesn’t mean you stay up to answer something that should’ve been cleared out beforehand!”

“Couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves,” he dramatises. 

“Yes, you could!” Your voice comes out louder than you expected, eyes wide as you realise what he’s doing to himself. “You barely look human and it’s only the midterm.”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“I don’t know if this job is really worth as much as you think it is.”

Mingyu’s jaw is clenched, fists tight as he releases them to grip paper weight on the desk, knuckles white. “I can’t get anywhere if I don’t—”

“Mingyu, please. This isn’t good for you.”

He says your name. Declarative, almost like a warning. “If you think this job isn’t worth it then you just don’t know.”

“Mingyu—”

“No, you don’t, because I’ve seen how good of a job I’ve been doing.”

“You have, you’ve been amazing but—”

Mingyu’s own voice is raised, a hard impenetrable floor to the words he spills. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You look like a corpse!”

And then he’s getting out of his chair with so much force it almost knocks it backwards, “Why on earth do you care so much? So what if I look like a corpse, if I‘m doing my job?” 

It might’ve been better if he knocked the chair right into you, your breath dissipating in your chest like it never existed. His face is morphed in an expression of exasperation your anxieties fear the most, every line on his face committed to irritation and anger. 

Why on earth do you care so much?

Right. Why do you? 

“Are you asking me that?”

“What?”

“Are you asking me why I care?” 

Mingyu only sighs, shoulders dropping and eyes closed. Like so many times before, you watch run a hand through his hair, except this time he yanks on the strands harder than ever before. 

His eyes are bloodshot. 

“I have to get the exam pack.”

Marching out the door in front of your own eyes, you’re left with a feeling that’s right in the back of your throat, curling and whirling into something you wish you could hack and gag out. Gripping the corner of the professor’s desk, you feel the peeling wood cut into your skin. 

There’s a draft, the delayed slam of the door has only hit its wind now, a delayed reaction. It’s like it registers in your mind as you feel strands of your hair shift, the clarity that comes with it.

Delusive. Chimeric. Cruel.

Everything you’d subjected upon yourself. A whimsical fantasy between pages of logic and numbers, a story that simply didn’t fit where the laws wouldn’t allow it. 

The null hypothesis of your most elaborate nightmares.

Monday

Your favourite commonplace box, where your mother once placed all her most prized jewels, had a finicky latch. 

It wasn’t broken, simply worn in from years of opening and closing. It took a few tries to get it shut. Simply pressing down with pressure didn’t work; you had to open it again, press down on the individual elements of the latch and then try again. 

You were never satisfied until you heard the distinct click of the latch fixing itself, the box closed and ready for you to hook your lock through.

Earlier on in your undergraduate career, you remember a professor talking about the effects of external factors on the mind, how they can sometimes cause it to ‘shut down’ when overwhelmed or stressed. 

It’s happened to you on many a occasion; like when you stayed up too late on a school night to watch a documentary about the Stanford prison experiment, or when you’d neglect food or water on busier days, or when you’d stop paying attention in class because you were too preoccupied thinking about Taco Tuesday. 

Regardless, you’d found a way to recognise when your brain would fall into some strange kahoots with daydreams, or whatever was bothering you, and learned ways to give yourself a reset. 

Pressuring and forcing the attention wouldn’t work, just like how the latch wouldn’t fit when you’d do the same with your beloved old box. So you’d take a walk, drink something cold, spray yourself with a garden hose, or even take a nap altogether. Opening yourself up, so the latch can finally click. 

On the morning of your midterm, when you’d ensured your brain was in optimal condition for the exam you knew would be one of the worse ones you’ll have to take, you were sure the only external force that could ruin your vibe was from God himself. 

Having been so preoccupied with your mind and its functions, you’d seemed to have forgotten where your heart had wandered off to. 

Somebody else might consider it a minor disagreement; an anxious squabble if you will. But your breakfast in your throat was enough reason to deem what happened that morning much more than that. At least for you. 

“Pass it on, please…pass it on, please.”

The sound of his voice is tectonic. Rattling in your head like a superior force had slammed into your skull like a padded hammer to a gong. 

You hated it. You hated everything. You hated yourself. And as the midterm paper reaches you with your pen in your clawed fingers, the first three questions already making perfect sense, you realise you hated Kim Mingyu the most. 

That was a lie. You were lying to yourself, yet again. 

Because it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t hate him. 

As you drift past every question of conditional experiments and screenshots of data and tables on a software, you hardly remember what you circle and what you don’t. Hardly remember what words you picked for the short answers and labels. You hardly remember taking the steps down from your seat to the front of the room, where the professor sat scrolling through his Skateboarders [!MEN ONLY!] facebook group, placing your paper down and leaving the classroom. 

Throughout your years of living, you’d learned what you needed to get your brain out of its clouded muffle, to refocus when you needed it. 

Everything. You tried everything. 

But on that day, when it mattered most, your latch never clicked.

It’s Wednesday. 

You order lunch from the Italian place a few streets down. Ravioli; it’s safe and you know you’ll like it. 

Savouring it is easy in front of another true crime show. You pull a lone soft drink from your fridge, one that your friend left weeks ago. It tastes just as bad as the last time you tasted it from someone else’s cup, but you drink it anyway, the empty can now in your trash. 

It’s 3:30 PM, and you sit at your desk. It’s strange. It feels like you’re missing something, which in ways, you are. But as you pull your laptop from your nightstand instead of out of your bag, you slow your movements. 

The papers are the same. But you read them anyway. 

Parameter estimation: Make inferences on characteristics of the population, including distributions of the variables and the effect of one variable over another. 

It’s accursed the way the universe won’t let you live. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, estimation cannot be perfect. 

Estimation cannot be perfect. 

[_]

It’s Thursday

Class. Eat. Drink. Work.

Hypothesis testing: Determine whether null hypothesis is rejected or not after data observation. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, no null hypothesis in bayesian approach!!

[_]

It’s Friday

Eat. Drink. Work.

Latent means to have meaning but is yet to be manifested. The greek letters are placeholder values for values yet unknown. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue; values that you will find out

[_]

It’s Saturday

Eat. Drink. Work.

P(A|B) = [P(B|A)P(A)

              ——————

                     P(B)

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

 it gets less complicated

 promise :/ 

[_]

It’s Sunday.

Eat. Drink. Work.

The page is blurry. Your eyes hurt. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

you’ve got this!!! < 3

You give up.

It’s Monday.

8:14 AM. 

You barely glance at the front of the room; swift turn to the left and right up the steps. Dr. Cho’s outfit almost goes unnoticed by you, tamer than most. Bright Barbie pink with large polka dots, untucked into too tight white jeans. His crocs are sparkly, at least that’s what the twinkle from up here looks like. 

He’s insulting another author, the man’s ProQuest journal article open for the world to see like a mediaeval scandal. 

There’s another person next to the whiteboards, back to the wall, hands clasped in front of him. His hair is messy, shooting lasers into the carpet as he rocks the slightest bit, listening to the professor rip this author to shreds. 

An hour later, you’re staring into the JASP software like it was written in a different language. 

Glancing next to you, the boy in the spongebob hoodie is playing sharkboy and lavagirl by himself. On your other side, the girl has the same thing as you open on her laptop, her pen occupied with drawing about a hundred tiny gojos on a bright pink sticky note. 

Bright pink sticky note. 

You snap your gaze back to your screen quickly after that. 

9:58 AM. You start packing up, shoving everything into your bag. 

Dr. Cho doesn’t even notice you slip out of the room, hardly a minute to the end of the lecture.

In the hallway, you take your first real breath in two hours. 

It’s Tuesday.

You’ve come down with something, head heavy as you feel yourself burn up. Skipping class is easy when you sleep through your alarm and every phone call from a friend asking where you are. 

They drop by, armed with medicine and soup. You almost feel better. 

It’s silent after they leave, and you realise in that moment how much you hate it. 

Opening your laptop for the first time in over 24 hours, you turn on a random podcast to play in the background, needing something to fill the air before you lose it entirely. 

The screen lands right where you left on the incredulous data presentation, unsolved tutorial paper crumpled between the screen and keyboard like a wilted leaf. 

Hot, scalding tears sting your eyeballs when you realise there was nowhere to turn to.

It’s Wednesday.

After a long day of doing nothing, still sick from whatever plagued your body, you go to bed earlier than usual.

It’s Thursday. 

Walking out of class, your mind is empty. You’re still sniffling, still achey, but better than you were. The shawl wrapped around you is warm, and your hood covers the cold tips of your ears. 

This other class makes you feel better about yourself, especially when the content is digestible and so is the professor. The TA feels like a mere accessory in the room, something you’ve learned to appreciate. 

With your gaze lowered, you only see midriffs as you walk out the classroom into the busy hallway. 

It happens in an instant, the flash of a clenched hand as the owner walks by in quick stride. An unmistakable leather strap watch with a broken clock face on the wrist.

You freeze like you’ve been caught. 

The hard bump of someone coming out the room behind you is welcomed, the annoyed “Hey!” knocking you back to earth before you could even exit the dimension. 

You’re off centre. But it’s fine. 

It’s Monday.

“Midterm results are out Tuesday morning. If you have any questions I’ll be sitting at office hours on Wednesday and Thursday, four to six in the evening. Or you could send me an email, either’s fine.”

Dr. Cho isn’t here. Something you only found out when the pitt sank in your stomach as Mingyu cleared his throat at the full hour. 

You want to leave, not caring about how strange it’d look if you did. Not caring about how he would definitely notice if you did. You want him to shut up, to stop talking, for anything to halt the way his voice infiltrates your entire being, talking about things you don’t understand but more familiar than anything else. 

Mingyu’s voice is hoarse, and you loathe the way you can tell the difference. 

It’s Tuesday.

Midterm Results for Statistics in Psychological Research.

—  92/100

It’s Wednesday. 

4:10 PM. It’s almost too much for you. Almost. 

The screech of the door is loud, the slam of the handle’s rebound even more so. The room doesn’t so much as glance at you at the door, the half full seats preoccupied with more important things. 

The front desk perks up immediately, eyes shooting towards the door for the nth time that day, like he was expecting someone that never seemed to show up. 

It’s ironic, you think, how Mingyu never seemed to notice you walk into the room for the many months you’ve walked in just for him. And now, as you walk in fists clenched and jaw set, eyes wild and burning, he’s breaking away from a student to look at the door before you even come into view. 

“Did you feel bad?” you spit.

“What?” he whispers. He seems to come around, glancing back before continuing, “Can we talk? Please.”

“Answer the question, Mingyu,” you snap. You don’t care there’s a confused student sitting right across from the both of you, his slot interrupted by your barge. “Did you feel so bad you had to give me something I didn’t earn?”

He’s stood up now, half confused. “Is this about the midterm—”

“I did not get a ninety two, I know I didn’t,” you grit. “Whatever happened before that stupid paper made sure I wouldn’t.”

Mingyu says your name and the sound makes you want to vomit. “What makes you think I’d do something like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I fucked up because of you?” you announce, louder than before. 

The world disappeared, your tunnel vision pointed at Mingyu’s face that wears an expression you cannot even begin to read. The unbecoming tears in your eyes are of a type of unadulterated rage you’ve felt only a few times before. Your heart is going about a million miles a breath, everything else only triggering an added bout of infuriated tremble in the forefront of your emotions. Nothing makes sense. 

Mingyu pushes back his chair in silence, stalking over to a large cupboard in the corner of the room. He shuffles around for a minute before returning. 

There’s a packet being thrust into your fists when he reaches you. He does not meet your eyes. 

A bright red 92/100 marks the front page.

“Here. It was all you, if you can’t believe me.”

It’s a careful mark, unmistakable lines and curves of the nine and the two. 

Reality is slow to sink in, but for some reason it’s only making you angrier. The paper curls under the pressure of your fingertips. You don’t open the packet. You refuse to flick through the pages. 

Because you know you’ve lost.

It’s Thursday. And it’s full of regret. 

There’s a sickness in you, from that dreaded day, something beyond what affects your body temperature and your energy. It’s in your mind, flooding the nerves that swim through every crevice and cave of your brain, a physical venom that does the opposite of kill but also the opposite of letting you live. 

There’s a feeling in you, that even if you were to open your mouth, unhinge your jaw, try to scream as loud as your throat would allow, there would be no sound. Something like a horrible dream, that you need to screw your eyes tight shut to fall out of. Except you aren’t waking up from this one. 

In a coffee shop, where Mingyu held your hand in a reassurance you now bleed for, you were sure he was real. Real like some deiform image; too good to be true. 

In your bed, dry tears on your face, midterm packet sifted through that showed you absolutely everything that you did right, thanks to him. He feels too real. Real like a cloud of obsidian that follows you everywhere, like the sad that’s been sleeping with you every night. 

If there was a way to hate someone more than a human limit, you’ve crossed it with the resentment you’ve now fostered for yourself. 

Barging into office hours like that, accusing him on a basis of nothing but your own dangerously stewed thoughts. If there was a hope of salvaged parts, you took a hammer to it in disregard; tearing it to ribbons that lay at your feet. 

It’s Friday.

At least it was. It bled into Saturday before you realised the 3:23 AM on the dial. 

Two weeks of no help and you already feel lightyears behind. The hour is getting to you, and you feel the frustration pool into tears, that turn into full fledged sobs. You’re crying over Bayesian inference and it’s somehow more pressing than any other emotion you’ve ever felt. 

Impossible numbers on your data sheets taunt you, not a single reference to if it was a button you clicked wrong or if you were playing a fool’s game altogether. 

Ding! You pick up your phone, the weight of it is enough gravity to pull you back to earth. 

[Mingyu]: switch to bF10 

[Mingyu]: you’ve been pulling numbers from bF01

It’s immediate the way your eyes dart towards your lit screen, clicking off tables to get to the drop down menu you need. And there on the left, two tiny buttons, one clicked on bF01. 

With shaking fingers, you move your cursor to hover over the tiny bF10, anticipating. You click. It takes a moment for the numbers to change, but they do. The nominal values turn into something you can actually work with. 

Something akin to a tut leaves you, hidden in the breath of another sob. It’s stupid, unreasonable, absurd. Your fingers hover over your phone, shaking as tears drop onto the screen, faster than before. 

Do you not miss me?

Do you not want me around?

Talk to me

I miss you

Please talk to me

“I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true.”

Mingyu is a product of his personality. You can only imagine he’s helped because he saw you struggling in class, heard from someone else, or perhaps, he just knew the very thing you’d make blunders out of. 

The reasons come to you, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. Then why does it hurt? Why does it feel like the knife’s twisted a full 360, that despite the way you accused him of the thing that would strip him of everything he’s bruised himself for, he helps you. The very thing that caused this rift in the first place. 

There’s a reason for that, and it is again, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. 

It’s Saturday. 

Perhaps you relied on your olfactory senses to remain calm, because you always knew you could count on a coffee shop to forever and always smell the same. 

The universe seems to want to ruin that for you too. 

“Latte, please,” you voice. “Iced.”

“We have a one plus one for the week! Would you like to receive another latte?” The lady taking your order looks no older than 17, a pep in her voice. 

“Um, no thank you. Just one, please.”

She looks taken aback, a reasonable reaction to anyone turning down a free drink. But you couldn’t bring yourself to walk home with two cups in hand. 

You’re plucking a napkin from the pickup counter when you hear his name. 

“...that he manipulated her grade because they were hooking up.” 

“He has time to hook up?”

“I remember hearing about that! She barged in during office hours and asked why he fixed her grade or something.” 

“A ninety two? In that class? Oh, they were definitely fooling around with each other.”

“Whatever, at least we know he’ll entertain you if he likes you enough. I’m just glad those two are over so I can swoop in.”

There’s an eruption of giggles. You press your head down further. 

“Unless he flirts in variables.”

“All is forgiven when you’re born with a face like that.” 

Another explosion of giddy laughter, through which your drink is slid across the counter towards you, like it was waiting for you to hear the damning evidence before you could leave. You grab it anyway, grip tighter than usual. 

Turning around, your eyes search, finding a group of people that sit in smiles and in various states of trust-falls. 

There she is, the girl you sat with on the first day you attended office hours, the one with the glitter gel pen doodles on her notes and her blatant fawns over the TA you slipped under just as easily. 

She locks eyes with you and her face falls, eyes widening the slightest bit in recognition. 

Pressing your lips into a smile, you hope it doesn’t look as menacing as you feel. You don’t wait for a response before you walk out the large glass doors.

It’s Sunday.

It seems every sip of water you’ve taken during the week has been used up in all the tears you’ve seemed to be shedding. By the bucketload.

Alas, even blurry and puffy eyed, you pour over statistical formulas anyway, running on no energy and all antagonism. It’s another tutorial sheet left incomplete, a single question taking a pour that lasts in at least an hour of struggle. 

Reading the same question for the nth time, your palms press into your temples as you stare lasers into the paper, like the revelation would come to you if you stared it down hard enough. It doesn’t make sense, the commands you’ve toggled on and off identical to the instructions on the page. 

Hence the question begs why the data was coming out like someone pressed the ultimate on a number generator. 

With a heat of unreasonable embarrassment, you find yourself checking your selection in one of the drop down menus, switching to bF01 and back just to see the difference. It does nothing to help, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved it wasn’t that particular snag. 

The library is as silent as it could possibly be on a Sunday morning, near empty as you occupy the mostly vacant seats. The librarian is having her own day off, as you could swear she’s playing computer games behind the counter instead of actual work. 

The only noise in the room is your own breathing, and that seems to be enough to mess with your concentration. You’re going cross eyed staring at the page for so long, the words doubling and  disappearing before going back to normal. 

Bayesian inference…z scores…null hypothesis…

Wait. 

It’s like you can see it in front of your eyes right now, the scribble of someone else’s dark blue on your notes.

no null hypothesis in bayesian approach

Bayesian approaches don’t use null hypotheses. And z scores are in…

“Oh my god, this is a t test,” you whisper to yourself in disbelief. Immediately, you’re scrambling to shake your laptop out of its sleep, switching over to a t test to redo everything, following the instructions on the same data set. 

And there it was…a clear 0.067 under the p value. 

In a moment of questioning, you laugh out a breathy sound, the absurdity of it all becoming too real. T tests were the first thing you learned, the foundation to all your statistical knowledge. Coming so far, and it took you days to realise the instructions under a Bayesian approach were for a different realm entirely. 

It was stupid of you. But in this difficult aftermath you can’t help but feel victorious. Laughing to yourself quietly in this empty library. 

When the initial adrenaline fades and you’ve double, triple checked to ensure you were right, you can only stare at the tiny mail button in your shortcuts on the screen. It was clearly an error, one that was given out to nearly a hundred students. 

The first step was clicking, your inbox coming to life as you drift towards the big blue button with the readily available NEW MAIL. So you click. 

There’s an attached file in the email you draft. 

The tutorial paper has titled t test instructions as a Bayesian approach. Just wanted to point it out and ask if I could receive a corrected version. 

Regards, YN

It’s almost like you’re trying to remember how it feels like when you type an experimental m in the To bar. His name pops up immediately, email address typed out in full, full name clear on top as a regular contact. 

You don’t need a suggestion to remember, his email came easier to you than your own. 

But you don’t email him, backspacing till it’s empty once again. 

Dr. Cho’s email sits in that place instead, a first for you. 

SEND.

You don’t expect him to reply on a Sunday, in fact, you aren’t sure if he’s going to respond at all. You’ve already shut your laptop, half out of your seat in an attempt to pack up. You’re forced to consider. 

Would it be terrible to go back and cc him as well? 

A spiteful part of you might find joy in correcting him for a change. The rational part of you wants to actually finish the tutorial before tomorrow’s class when you’d have to tackle another beast for the rest of the week. 

Sitting back down, you move without thinking. Your mind is still cooking up possibilities as you swing your screen open once again, still weighing as you click back into your inbox. 

There’s a new email in your sent box after you’re done, a copy of the one you sent your professor, the same attachment and the same question; word for word. The only difference, a more familiar name in the address bar. 

Before you can chicken out, you slam your laptop shut for the actual last time, shoving everything into your bag before the speeding thoughts can infiltrate your mind's barrier. You’re out the door before you know it, ready to be done with this. 

You’re afraid if you put a hand to your stomach it’d be met with kicks and punches, especially with the way you feel the aggressive cartwheels slashing away at your insides. The butterflies are making it to the end of your food pipe, and you briefly wonder if you need to break into a sprint to make it to a safe throwing up zone. Your entire being jolts as you feel a buzz in your hands, a loud click that signifies a new email in your inbox. 

Right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, you stop. 

The grip you have on your phone is unyielding, your fingers beginning to hurt from the pressure. There’s no way to tell if you’re shaking or not, but you bring your phone to your face anyway. The screen flips on, a lone notification on the screen. 

RE: Tutorial Error from Kim Mingyu

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since you sent that email, the library still in sight from where you stand. At the same time, it’s almost funny you expected any different from him. 

The kicks and punches in your stomach halt, the cartwheels have calmed, the butterflies have fallen asleep. The grip on your phone has loosened, and it’s like every nerve in your body went from on fire to serenity in a whiplash inducing shift. 

Clicking on the notification, the email opens. 

Noted. I have another tutorial sheet for you if you want it. I’ll be in the room where office hours are held for the rest of the morning.

Kim Mingyu, T.A.

There was no way he didn’t have a softcopy he could send you in less than a minute, and you’re sure he knew you’d realise that too. You should scoff, be upset, roll your eyes. 

But instead, you find your feet making a 180, turning around to go right back to where you came from. You walk, eyes still half trained on the email, reading and rereading as you walk back onto campus, towards the building you’d once considered a second home. 

You walk, and walk and walk, in through the doors, up the stairs and then another set of them, you take a left and look up. The hallway is empty, the door on the right coming into view as you slow your steps significantly. 

Closer and closer, you realise the light surrounding it is brighter than usual. The door is open, and you can see the empty rows of tables and chairs, set neatly against one another. It’s strange, you’ve never seen it wide open before. 

Walking even closer, you can see the beginnings of the professor’s desk come into view, and it only takes you one more step forward. 

Standing in the doorway now, you find yourself in the direct path of the sun that pours in through the open windows. It’s warm, but just enough to combat the cooling weather. 

The desk up front is occupied, as it always is. 

Mingyu is only in a t-shirt and trousers, glasses perched on his nose as he scrawls away on the paper in front of him. His laptop is turned on, screen facing the door where you stand, his inbox open and available even on the weekend. 

It wasn’t that you were waiting for him to notice, but you found yourself inadvertently taking your time looking at him. Every other situation, you’d done your absolute best to avoid your eyes grazing over him at all costs, hardly drifting over his form before flitting away. You never did it on purpose, but it was more like you were unconsciously protecting yourself.

 Like looking at him would only make the ache in your heart worse.

If that was the case, you would’ve been right. There’s a tug in your chest, and in that moment, it all comes flooding in like a gate destroyed. 

Mingyu looks up and sees you in the doorway, standing immobile. He sets his pen down, taking his glasses off. There’s the smallest hint of a smile on his face as he greets you, “‘Morning.”

You take it as your cue to move forward, stepping foot into the patch of sun slowly. “‘Morning.”

You reach the desk, standing in front of him, the only thing blocking you being the littered table with files, papers and stationary; the trench between you both. 

It’s so silent it tears at your insides, gripping the strap of your bag to have something to do. 

“I, uh, double checked when I saw the email. You were right, nobody noticed in class either.” There’s an airiness in his voice, like he might be struggling just as much as you are right now. 

He clears his throat when you don’t respond, looking back down at his workspace like he was looking for something. He finds a paper from some stack, handing it over to you. 

“Thanks,” you hoarse. It’s the same tutorial you had, except the instructions had been crossed out, replaced by a list of handwritten instructions instead, detailed in their annotation. You recognise it, because of course you’d recognise his handwriting. 

“I didn’t have time to print one out right now. I’ll probably send a corrected copy to everyone tonight,” he explains. 

“That’s alright.” You look up, lips pressed together, eyebrows forced into a regular position on your face. Nodding, you thank him once again. “Thanks again. I’ll…get going.” 

Every fibre in your body screams at you to turn back around, hollering profanities at your inability to deal with this. You’re already halfway to the door though, and your pride’s already deemed it too late. 

Please stop me, please stop me, please stop me, please just say something and stop me—

There it is. Your name, from his mouth, in his beautiful voice. 

Turning back around is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. 

Mingyu has stood up from his seat, out from behind the desk. He looks like he wasn’t expecting you to turn back. “Can we talk?” 

And then he’s pulling out the chair he was sitting on, presenting it like a piece offering. If you heard correctly, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice break the slightest bit when he pressed, “Please?”

So there you were, in a position all too familiar as you sit across from the man that’s haunted you for the past weeks, trying to keep your chest from falling in. 

“I guess I should start with an apology,” he’s fidgeting with his own fingers. “I don’t need to give you excuses about stress or exhaustion because…”

He closes his eyes, trying to find the words. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You were only trying to help and I was too preoccupied with myself to notice. I’m sorry I spoke to you like that when you didn’t deserve it.” 

For about the millionth time, you realise you’re tearing up again. He continues. “And then…right before the midterm too. You were right, I did feel horrible. But I swear that grade was all you, I didn’t touch those numbers.”

He really didn’t, because the papers he had thrust into your hands on that fateful day in this very room proved that you earned that mark. You wince regardless.

“I thought I could apologise before the exam started but I couldn’t find you, and then you were gone right after. I didn’t text or call because I was sure I’d fucked it all up.” 

“I’m sorry too. For barging in in front of everyone and basically accusing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” You look up from your lap, wet lashes and all. “I really hope you didn’t get into any trouble.” 

“I–no, I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I promise I didn’t.” He locked eyes with you when he said that, hoping you’d believe him. You nod slowly. 

“It wasn’t even that bad, what you said,” you sniffled. 

He scoffs at that, “I’d beg to differ.”

“I would’ve gotten over it,” you continue, bracing yourself to admit to something you’ve had trouble admitting to yourself. “I should’ve gotten over it. I don’t know why it hurt so much, why watching you walk out felt so horrible. But I haven’t been acting like normal ever since, and I’m sorry for stretching this whole fiasco out into something that didn’t need to turn into…this!”

“You were hurt because I hurt you.”

“People have said worse things to me. And you were practically a zombie, I should’ve just left it for another time. It was a little bit my fault too. But…yeah.”

There’s a silence as you try to remind yourself to breathe. You speak up again. “I just want us to go back to normal. I’ve missed you. Alot.”

“Me too. The go back to normal bit. And the…missed you bit.”

Mingyu’s half smiling when you look up, biting your lip hard as you try to keep a smile of your own at bay. “I’d thought if I gave up and admitted I was struggling that day, that’d be admitting defeat. That you’d think I…couldn’t do it.” 

Why on earth do you care so much? It rings in your ears. 

You sound light when you say it though, knowing now it wasn’t what he meant.“Since when are we on caring terms?” 

Mingyu cringes. "We are. I am, at least, if you aren't anymore, which is fine. I care about you. A lot."

It’s hard to not let out a laugh. He looks half constipated as he tries to navigate his words. 

“Oh well I’d hope you’d care, since you’re my TA and all.”

“Not in a TA way.”

“Tutor way.”

“Um.”

“Friend way? A human way?” 

“No.”

You both know you’re being obtuse on purpose, and you aren’t sure why. Maybe you just like to watch him squirm. 

“You know what?” he rasps. 

“What?”

Your answer comes in the form of Mingyu lurching to grab the legs of your chair, pulling the wheels to crash into him where he sits. You’re not expecting it, the clashing legs causing you to swerve forward, hands on Mingyu’s lap. 

And then his hand is on the back of your neck, and his lips placed on your own. 

You’re stiff as a board, brain computing the fact that Mingyu is kissing you in a classroom. 

It’s short, hardly a few moments before he pulls away. “Does that clear things up?”

There’s nothing you can do but blink at him, the reality of it all settles in. “Hm.”

He laughs at your half dazed state. It’s a purely instinctual part of you that speaks after this. “Maybe one more time. To make sure.”

Mingyu doesn’t even wait to laugh again as he wastes no time, putting his mouth on yours properly this time. There’s more of a drive in you this time, moving your mouth against his and he keeps your head close. 

The ecstasy is slow but sure to build in your stomach. Mingyu is kissing you. Mingyu is sitting with you and kissing you so good you’re already half faint. 

His mouth tastes like coffee and remnants of berry, a combination you can’t believe you could enjoy this much. Licking into his mouth, you let your tongue drag over his, like the tactile would convince you this wasn’t some too vivid fever dream. 

He pulls away for a moment, but hardly so as his lips remain pressed onto yours. 

“For the record,” he pants. “I love that you care. And I hope you’ll keep caring. Because I don’t think I can handle it if you walk away after this.”

Mouth back on his own, you decide there’s only one way to convince him you weren’t going anywhere without dragging him with you. 

MINGYU'S APARTMENT IS CLEANER than you expected. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, perhaps more mad scientist than anything else. But the most you find is a mug and plate in the sink, and a moderately crowded study desk, which is to be expected. 

Mingyu decided to abandon his work for the day to spend it with you, to which you contest that it was Sunday anyway. His response is making you change into something comfortable of his so you could laze on his couch. 

Like you would run away if he didn’t, Mingyu keeps his arms around you in a tight hold, fingers curling around your shoulders as you lay on top of him. Your head rests directly over his heart, his cheek and lips taking turns to occupy the top of your head.  

You fill him in on everything, and realise the most eventful weeks you’ve spent were actually quite uneventful in hindsight. He feels up your cheek and forehead when you tell him you got sick at one point, to which you have to reassure him it was either something going around or stress that you subjected on yourself. 

“I went to a frat party,” Mingyu mumbles into your forehead. “For Halloween.”

The information has you shifting to look up at him in bewilderment, “You went to a frat party?”

He snorts, “Dressed up for it too.”

“Oh my god,” you voice in mild horror. “Do I wanna know?” 

“Wonwoo and I matched,” he hums as he pulls out his phone, scrolling his gallery to look for pictures. “I was Mario, he was Luigi.”

“How adorable.”

He only gives you a look and shoves the phone in your face. By some grace of god they aren’t wearing moustaches, but the distinct red and green outfits are enough to give you enough recognition. 

“Thing 1 and Thing 2 were also possible contenders,” he informs. 

“That might’ve been a little better.”

“What’s wrong with Mario?” he asks sharply.

“Nothing. But I do hope you weren’t sporting an Italian accent throughout that.” 

“I was,” he pushes. “A horrible one too.”

You give him the satisfaction of an eye roll. 

“You could’ve gone as Peach. We could’ve matched.” 

“I don’t know if I’d wanna wear any available Peach costumes during Halloween time.” You crinkle your nose as you think of all the racy costumes that unearth every October. 

“Maybe in private,” he says with an insufferable smile on his face. 

Placing your hands flat on his chest, you rest your chin and look up at him. “I’m not sure I want to interrupt whatever you two have going on.” 

“Who?”

“You and Wonwoo, you’re practically married.”

Mingyu laughs out loud, and you can feel the rumble in his chest against your hands, his body moving against your own that’s stuck to him. “Not with whatever he has going on with his girl.”

“Oh right,” you frown in remembrance. “What happened to not understanding how he does it?” 

“Hm?”

“He’s a TA too. Probably just as busy as you. You said you didn’t know how he could juggle a relationship and his job at the same time.”

His eyes spark in remembrance, pausing for a moment. “I may owe him an apology.”

“Do you?”

Mingyu frowns, “Actually no I don’t. I don’t think he and his lady are doing too well right now. He’s been insufferable lately.”

“Is it because of the TA-ing?”

“I never know with those two,” he sighs.

There’s silence once again, in the midst of which Mingyu leans over to kiss you a few times, soft and lingering. Like he’s trying to familiarise himself with the shape of your mouth, the tactile feeling of kissing you. 

“Do you…know about us?” There’s hesitancy in the way you ask. But you can’t help but ask anyway.

Mingyu thinks for a moment, and it has your heart beating out of your chest. “I know that I want us to be concrete. That I wanna work around whatever life throws at us. You can decide what to call it, but I know I’m in it for the long run.”

“I’m glad you’re smarter than your husband,” you smile.

He only rolls his eyes, “He’s only good at one kind of chemistry.” 

“D’you think they’ll be okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he assures. “They’re just going through a…rough patch.”

“Like we did?”

“If you’re asking me, I’d say they’re being a little more stupid about it.”

The snort that leaves you is unanimous with his own. He continues, “They’ll be okay though.”

“I hope so. I’d like to go on double dates with my boyfriend’s husband’s girlfriend.” You start giggling in the middle of your sentence, too ridiculous even for you to voice. 

“This is getting weird,” Mingyu breathes. 

You only hum against his mouth, “Do I have to take your husband's blessing before we can move forward?”

“For fuck’s sake.” 

You’re both laughing again, a sound that comes from your stomachs, true and uncontrollable. For a moment, you can’t help but be conscious of how light you feel, how happy you feel with his scent infiltrating your nostrils, his presence known where his fingertips touch you. 

“I did the sticky note thing again too,” Mingyu says into the silence, and there’s nothing you can do to stop the fit of giggles that erupt all over again. 

“Said something worse this time,” he continues as you laugh into his chest. “Accept that you’ll die alone or some other shit like that.” 

There’s comfort in this moment. In your giggles and in your tears, in his voice and in his affection. His lips are another sanctuary you’ve found, and perhaps even another way to make your dreaded latch click. 

Nose nuzzled in his cheek, the feeling of his skin so soft against yours, fingers at his chin where a slight stubble grows, you relax in ways you cannot comprehend. 

MINGYU'S LIPS BECOME A feeling you’ve grown dangerously accustomed to. 

It isn’t that he has them on you too much, regardless of what an outsider might suggest; to you they simply aren’t on you enough. 

The following Monday went as usual, for you anyway. You weren’t avoiding Mingyu this time, and you were grateful for it. It was two hours of following him with your eyes as he darted around the room. You could hardly constitute it as not paying attention when Dr. Cho was preoccupied with explaining every reason he hates JASP over SPSS, but also ultimately, hates them both. 

You don’t even notice his loud outfit (overalls and a neon green sweater underneath), happy to watch Mingyu flit about and whisper incoherent explanations to students. 

The tutorial paper is barely looked at by you, because you know your boyfriend will be happy to help you out later at his place. 

You’re barely through the door that night when he gets a hold of you, tight grip across your waist as you’re catapulted into his arms, door slammed shut behind you. 

Bag still on your shoulders and your shoes still on, Mingyu’s slammed his mouth onto yours before you can take a proper breath. You stumble, squealing through the kiss as you realise you aren’t escaping the iron grip he’s got on your face. 

Somehow between it all, you manage to slip your bag off to let it drop to the floor of his doorway, shoes kicked off one after the other as he leads you inside, littering the way. 

“You aren’t actually paying attention in class anyway,” he breathes against your mouth before kissing you again. “So why don’t you sit in the back where you don’t distract me.”

“Who says I’m not paying attention.” You open your as your back lands on the couch, looking at him as he looms overhead. 

“You’re paying attention to me.”

“It was in my job description when I signed up for the girlfriend position.”

He’s all over you now, hands at your sides, mouth underneath your earlobes as he husks, “Was letting me take you in front of the entire class also a clause? Because if this goes on I might have to take up on that.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he’d been possessed, everything about his behaviour screaming the opposite of the well behaved, restrained man you’ve been accustomed to. The fact that he’s whispering directly into your ears isn’t helping either, a conspicuous shiver dragging across your spine. 

It lands with precision, right at your core. You’re too hot to tell, but there isn’t a doubt you’ve begun to pool. 

There’s a ding in the background. 

He’s suckling underneath your ear, his hands roaming in ways that would smear your reputation altogether. 

Another ding. 

He’s reached your mouth once again, groping your right breast lightly. Like he’s testing the waters.

Ding. 

Mingyu makes a noise of annoyance, the other hand trailing underneath your shirt. 

His ringtone blares throughout the room, whoever the caller was having reached wit’s end. 

“Gyu…” you whisper. 

“Ignore it,” he growls. The ringing has stopped. 

He ducks underneath to kiss at your stomach, lifting your shirt oh so slowly. He goes higher, and higher and higher, leaving a trail of kisses at the skin, taking deep breaths as he drags his mouth over your torso. 

His phone begins to ring again. 

Your head is spinning, your senses overcome. If you weren’t sure before, the air of wetness between your legs is definitely obvious now. 

He brings a hand to your centre, pushing inwards at your jean clad core. You exhale sharply yet shakily. 

The ringing stops. 

Mingyu makes a gumbled sound that you can’t quite make out, too preoccupied with the way your shirt is now up past your bra, at which Mingyu has taken to leaving open mouthed kisses to your cleavage. 

There’s a ding. 

“Mingyu, I really think—”

His phone begins to ring again. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he curses, rearing his head like an interrupted animal, wet mouthed and bleary eyed. He looks at his buzzing phone on the floor in an accusatory glare, like he wants to chuck it out the window and go right back to burrowing into your chest. 

“You should answer.” 

He looks irritated as he takes his phone in his hands, and you find a flash of Dr. Cho’s name on the screen. “It’s eleven O’clock.” 

“It might be important.”

“The last time he did this he asked where his peacock feather pen was,” he grunts as he silences his phone. 

You laugh, running a soothing hand through Mingyu’s hair, a tiny attempt to calm him down. Pulling your shirt down, you attempt to sit up. 

Mingyu makes a noise of denial, attempting to stick his face into your now clothed chest, knocking you back down, “Nooooo, I’m gonna ignore him.”

“He’s not going to leave you alone,” you sing quietly, running your nails across his scalp lightly, holding his head to your chest. You place your cheek on his head, playing with his ear. 

As if to prove your point, Mingyu’s phone begins to ring again, and he groans at the prospect. 

“Go on.”

He swipes to answer it. A loud sigh and then a tired, “Hello?”

His volume is bumped up enough for you to make out what’s being said on the other line. “Where have you been?”

“It’s nearly eleven, sir. I was in bed.”

“My flash drive won’t open up on my computer.”

You have to stifle a snort. 

“Is it…plugged in?”

“Of course it is, I’m not an idiot.”

“Is it showing up on your files?”

“Disk…is not…formatted.”

“Erm, it might be corrupted.”

“How did that happen?”

“Did you download something off the internet onto it?”

“Hardly matters, I need the attendance sheet on it!”

Your fingers are massaging Mingyu’s temples as you feel him tense on top of you. 

“Your attendance sheet is on the teacher’s portal,” Mingyu grits before adding, “sir.”

“...I have other things on there too.”

Mingyu exhales ever so quietly and you tighten your hold on him a smidge. “This sounds like something tech support could help with.”

“Why can’t you help?” he asks sharply. 

“I…I don’t know how, sir.”

There’s a noise of indignation from the other end, and you can’t help but keep from laughing. 

Mingyu sighs into the phone, this time doing nothing to hide it. “I’ll take it to tech support for you tomorrow. And I’ll send you a direct link for the attendance sheet for Monday and Tuesday’s classes.”

The line beeps shut. Mingyu brings the phone for you both to see the professor’s hung up as soon as the words left Mingyu’s mouth. 

“Wow,” you whisper into the silence, the weight of Mingyu’s head heavier on your chest. “Not even a thank you.”

“Absent father behaviour,” Mingyu grumbles as he moves his face to burrow into your shirt. 

It’s a bad joke, but you laugh anyway. 

“Will I be an asshole if I say I’m not in the mood anymore?” he murmurs. 

“Absolutely not. Everything sucked right back in the minute I heard his voice on the line.”

“Gross,” he comments, but he’s laughing too. 

“Should we call it a night?” he asks, rearing his head. 

Nodding, you rise with him. By the time you’ve reached the bedroom, you’ve already begun taking off your accessories, fiddling with your bracelet as you voice. 

“I need a shower.”

Mingyu throws you a towel and a t-shirt, which you catch and move towards the bathroom. Halfway through the door, you sneak a look at him fiddling with his belt. 

“Do you wanna come in too?” 

Mingyu looks at you peering through the door frame. You’ve never seen anyone leap across the room as quickly as in that moment. 

THE FOLLOWING DAYS WERE just as eventful as that phone call, Mingyu running around as the midterm low passed and the line creeped up towards finals season. 

Perhaps it was better that you stopped attending office hours, because the room seems to become increasingly packed as the days progressed. 

You only ever saw Mingyu in the wee hours of the night at his place, where he begged you to camp out till the end of the semester so he “doesn’t move to insanity”. It might even be better for you, going about your day as usual, without the usual added distraction of a partner.

Coming home to him was easier, where he could clear up your doubts while in ratty pyjamas and starfished across the bed, where you could find solace in Mingyu’s chest without prying eyes when the information became like filling an already stuffed junk drawer. 

It was a Friday night, you’re alone at Mingyu’s place sitting cross legged on the floor. The table in front of you is pouring over the final question of this week’s tutorial paper, everything seemingly whizzing right past the top of your head. 

Despite that, as Mingyu stumbles inside past eleven, you know you shouldn’t ask him for a thing. 

Tired was a look on Mingyu you’d gotten quite used to, so you’ve learned to not comment and simply let him fall into the couch cushions with all his weight. 

His face is parallel to yours as he closes his eyes with a light groan in greeting. Moving forward, you kiss the flutter of his eyelids softly, down to the apple of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth. 

Your fingers run through his tangled and distressed hair as he mumbles against your mouth. “Did you finish the tutorial paper?”

You huff in mild annoyance, that despite his state he still thinks about work. “Not yet. One last question and I’m done.”

He hums and waits a moment before reopening his eyes. With a loud groan he’s pushing himself off the couch, sliding off of it to sit with you on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“I can figure it out myself, Gyu.”

“You would’ve been done by now if you could,” he answers. It’s annoying that he says it but he’s also right. 

Mingyu holds the paper a mere inch from his eyes, the sight almost comical if he also didn’t look an inch from passing out. 

He mumbles the question as he reads, “It’s nothing, just worded weird. Toggle this off and move this to mixed factors and you’re done.”

The toggles are done for you, and Mingyu takes the liberty crossing he question off with a pen he finds on the table. 

“Did you get everything else?” he asks in earnest. 

“Hm? I think so.” 

“Good.” And then he’s throwing his head back to rest it on the couch cushions behind him, breathing slowly. 

He’s in a navy sweater, collar of his undershirt peeking through the top. Your gaze leads up further, to the exposed area of his throat—clean, tan and naked. You realise this might not be a good time, but it’s only natural your mind cooks up other ways to translate your helplessness as you watch your boyfriend push himself to the brink. Release is never a bad idea. 

Besides, it’s a Friday night. No reason to not. 

“Gyu,” you shuffle closer. 

Lolling his head to look over at you, he answers in a small voice, “Yeah?” 

You put on the guiltiest face you can muster, complete with darting eyes and fidgeting fingers. “D’you think…d’you think you can go over post hoc tests again?”

“Post hoc?” He furrowed his eyebrows. You bite the inside of your cheek, having blurted the first plausible model you could think of to ask him. It’s an older bit of the syllabus, something you should already be well versed in. 

Not that you care what he thinks right now, he’d figure out why you were asking anyway. 

“Post hoc, um,” he rubs a hand over his face as if to jog his memory. 

Shifting forward, you plaster you front onto his side. He thinks nothing of it. 

“Analysis tool after you’ve already run the data,” he begins. 

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you let your nose nuzzle against his cheek. Trailing up, your lips find the shell of his ear. 

“Results have to be…they have to be…” He falters when your hand reaches his front, running across the expanse of his clothes stomach, nails digging ever so slightly as you reach his abdomen. You continue to place open mouthed kisses at the space of neck you can reach. 

“Hm? Has to be what?”

“Statistically significant,” he breathes when your palms reach the tops of his thighs. “To run a post hoc test.”

His trousers are less barrier inducing than regular jeans, something you’re both grateful for as you begin to palm his clothed bulge. “Results of what, baby?”

“For the love of—”

“Go on,” you whisper in his ear. “Please.”

One flick and his trousers are unbutton, pulling them aside as the zipper pulls open. You're pushing down his boxers when he answers you. “ANOVA.” 

“What’s that again?”

“You little shit.”

You move your mouth forward to kiss him.

“Analysis of variance.” 

You hum against the column of his throat at that, his half hard member in your hands. Light touches, that’s all they are, running the pads of your fingers across the pulsing length, coaxing him into full length. 

“What’s it for though? We already got our results.” Bending forward, you stick your tongue to kitten lick at his tip. Mingyu hisses, hips shifting. Your tongue swirls around the tip, pushing into the skin on the head where he’s most sensitive. 

“Ugh, fuck, for um,” he falters as you begin to suck at his head, tongue running over each hollow of your cheeks. 

“For…for…” His chest is moving up and down in quick breathes, every sound from his mouth coming from a deep rumble in his stomach. 

Letting go of his cock, you continue to pump him with your hand as you gaze up at him from your position. “For? Keep talking, baby.”

“For…To identify groups,” he grunts out. He lets out a louder moan when you place your mouth back on him, going past his tip and taking as much as you can of him into your mouth. “Identify…the differences, shit, hmph.”

He takes a loud breath before speeding through it again, “Identify which groups actually differ, oh my god.”

The bit of him that you can’t fit on your mouth is being pumped by your hands, fingers pushing into him like you were trying to indent them on the base of his cock. A glance upwards and you find his head thrown back, hands coming to tangle in your hair. His thumb caresses the side of your cheek.

“How many groups?” you ask, before diving back in. 

“Three,” he chokes out. “Three or more, oh I’m gonna cum, fuck don’t stop, holy shit.”

Both of his hands are at your head, guiding you as you suck him harder, faster, more tongue digging into his slit. You hum against his dick on purpose, making sure it’s coarse enough to get the reaction you want. 

You succeed, because immediately after you hear Mingyu rip out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard, his grip on your strands harder than ever. He cums into your mouth, hips stuttering as you place your entire weight on him to keep him in place. 

You let some of it dribble out your mouth and back over his softening dick like a hot coating, sucking him through shooting spurts of cum that land on your tongue. 

When you emerge from underneath, Mingyu looks like he got the soul sucked out of him; eyes closed, stuttered breaths raking through his entire body, a light sheen of the beginnings of sweat that glisten in the low light of the room. 

Reaching for the tissue box and water bottle on the table, you soak the napkins and bring them to clean him up. He whines when the cold tissues touch him where he’s most sensitive right now, you want to kiss him but account for the cum that is actively stuck to the walls of your mouth. 

You leave for a few minutes, much to Mingyu’s hoarse protests. He’s almost on all fours, hands on the floors as you promise to be back. By the time you’ve hauled his tired ass into bed, you’re just as ready to knock out as the half asleep man beside you. 

Mingyu’s face is plastered into your neck, arms and legs thrown over your form as he hugs you close to him. 

“I might love you,” he says into the darkness. A secret, just for you and the walls to hear. 

You hide the way your heart absolutely leaps, conceal the way your hands tighten around his form into an affectionate caress, hold your breath to prevent the inevitable hitch. 

I might love you too. 

You hide that as well. For now. 

Smiling into the skin of his temples, you sigh.

“Feel free.”

[Mingyu]: class ended early 

[Mingyu]: be there in 5 

[You]: ???

[You]: wdym ended early

[You]: kim did u end class early to come home

Your response comes in the form of the front door lock jiggling loudly. You’d stayed the night at his place, knowing you didn’t have anything to do but study by yourself. Sickly as you were, you doubt you could sit through two hours of even more statistics. 

He’d left you in bed with a kiss, needing to be extra early since Dr. Cho decided to dump the last crucial few weeks leading up to finals season entirely on his TA. As much as there was on Mingyu’s already overflowing plate now, you couldn’t deny the elated feeling of your attendance being taken care of regardless of whether you show up to class or not. 

A very real violation, but no one truly notes one skipped student in the midst of hundreds. Besides, the bag under Mingyu’s pretty eyes might be enough for anyone to have mercy and let the supposed mistake slide.

As Mingyu walks into the room, shoes flying and back dumped on the floor, he finds you still half clothed with leftover sleep in your eyes, standing in the middle of the living space like you were lost. 

He drops his things to come and drown you in his arms, loud kisses all over your face as you talk. “You’re getting too comfortable with this job.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t possibly expect me to teach a bunch of half asleep idiots when my woman is all alone at home, sickly and cold without me.”

You grumble wordlessly as you feel him check your temperature with the back of his hand. “How’s the congestion?”

“Bad,” you respond nasally. “I can’t find my Afrin.”

“It’s on the bedside table, baby.”

“No, it’s not.”

Still wrapped in his hold, Mingyu begins to take steps forward that lead towards the bed, pushing you to walk backwards.

“I’m not awake enough to navigate,” you sniff.

“I’ve got you,” he lowtones, pushing backwards slowly. 

The back of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back into the unmade sheets. You crawl back under the covers as Mingyu navigates between used tissues, water bottles and pills on the bedside table. But no sign of your nasal spray. 

You have to breathe through your mouth and you hate it, but you send a remark his way anyway. “Told you.”

Mingyu bends down and emerges with a familiar red capped bottle. He stares at you while you stare at it, choosing to simply snatch it from his presenting hands and be done with it. 

“Good thing I came back early, hm?” 

“Shut up.”

He leaps over your form to claim the spot in bed right next to you, still fully clothed as he burrows under the covers next to you.

There’s nothing flattering about the way you stick the nozzle up your nostrils and sniff hard, but the gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes might as well suggest you were trying to get him to look at you like that. 

“Are you gonna keep doing this till finals?” you ask throatily, shifting under the covers. 

“Teaching during class time is just extended office hours, I’m gonna go insane if I keep going like this. Probably just today. Or…once more if I feel it.”

“Didn’t you say you were gonna extend office hours to Fridays too?” 

Mingyu moulded himself against you, giving warmth to your shivering body even under thick blankets. 

It seems throughout the course of your relationship, your time with Mingyu is either spent laying down or in the process of doing so. Not that you mind, you’ve found that remaining horizontal was what worked best for someone like Mingyu who seemed to want to fuse with your very being whenever you were together.

“Ugh, not this week. Do not have the patience.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say, eyes closed, already on the highway to dreamland. 

“Thank you, I do think I’ve been very brave.” Even while slipping into dreamland, you find the good sense to find his nipple through his sweater and give it a hard pinch. He jerks away in a yelp, clutching his chest. 

“What’s that for?!”

You ignore him and simply run your hand over the area you just attacked. “You’ve gotten better at knowing when to slow down. I’m proud of you.”

You’re too far gone to make out what he answers you with, but with the hot breath against your already warm forehead, you decide it's more than enough for you. 

MINGYU DOES IT FOR the fourth time, but this time round he’s smart enough to not tell you. 

It’s the Friday before finals week officially begins, and you remain in your own place for once to crack down on the last bits of syllabus you want to go over, away from your extremely distracting boyfriend. 

There’s a text when you check your phone after a couple hours of hyperfocus, and you narrow your eyes at the notification. 

It’s Wonwoo’s (actual) girlfriend, and she’s sent you nothing but a picture of both of your men on Wonwoo’s living room floor, thoroughly occupied with the floored expanse of sheets, pillows and cushions. 

It’s a pillow fort.

Your boyfriend is building a pillow fort in his not-husband’s living room mere days before the final exam for the most dreaded course of the semester. All while he’s actively meant to be available for office hours.

You want to laugh. The man that stayed up multiple nights to answer stupid questions in emails, is now less than concerned about the pandemonium that is probably ensuing in the department building. It isn’t that you’re upset, because this was what you wanted from him. To learn to take a break when it was needed. But you would also prefer he’d time them a little better. 

Inevitably, you text him, but not before sending an encouraging text to your girlfriend-in-law for putting up with the both of them all by herself. 

[You]: where are you

[Mingyu]: where im meant to be?

[You]: office hours?

[Mingyu]: mhm

[You]: are u and ur husband conducting them under a pillow fort in his house

You imagine him sending Wonwoo’s girlfriend a betrayed look. Perhaps even throw a frilled throw pillow in her unassuming direction. 

[Mingyu]: DONT KILL ME

You let him suffer in your silence, clicking your phone off and leaving it somewhere you won’t be tempted to look. 

Besides, it wasn’t long before there was an incessant banging at your door that you ended up needing to get up to open. He looks so timid, the face of an innocent perpetrator that waltzes into your space. 

“I’m sorry,” he begins, following you to your desk like a lost duckling. 

“Whatever for?”

“For lying.” 

You snort as you sift through tutorial sheets, “Might wanna take that up to the poor hopeless student that thought you were their last hope.”

Mingyu’s head sinks to your shoulder where you sit at your desk. “God.”

“Him too.”

In another few moments, his arms have come around to cage you into your desk where you’re sat, hands placed on the table as he towers over the top of your head, mouth to crown. 

“Rumour has it,” he starts. 

You make a face. “Now you’ve joined in on gossip? Maybe I have steered you wrong.”

He ignores you valiantly as his mouth drops lower, down to the beginnings of the tips of your ears. You can smell him. He smells good. 

“That a textbook recitation is all it takes to get you all bothered down there.”

Lifting your head from its craned position over your papers, you stare straight ahead. Blank and unassuming. 

“Take a hike, Kim.”

“...Sorry.”

NO MATTER HOW FAKE annoyed you were at your boyfriend, you cannot possibly credit anyone else for how smooth your finals had gone. 

Not a single tear, hack or whine. Your meals were on time, your sleep schedule the healthiest it’s been for months. You even managed a movie night break in the midst of it all. A record for you. 

The very first thing you do after walking out of the exam hall, stretching and sighing, you find Mingyu waiting with nervous eyes. 

“Well?” he asks, eyes wide and lips pulled into his teeth. 

You merely grab for his hand and pull him out of the crowded hall and past a few familiar turns. 

“For the record I didn’t want some of the questions on there,” he yaps as he follows behind your stalks. “Hard ones weren’t mine. I promise I’m not a sadist.”

Then, in an un-CCTV’d corner, marked by the broken, empty vending machine, you round up on him. In seconds you’ve pulled him down to meet your lips in an eager, full kiss. 

In the moments your lips remain intact, you can feel all the horrid statistical knowledge you’d gathered over the months slip out the cracks and crevices, relieving you. 

Mingyu is careful to let you pull away first, eyes sticky to open when you do. There’s a smile on your face. “It went great.”

A strong tug against your waist and you’re suddenly pressed into Mingyu’s all too familiar hold, so everloving tight you can hardly breathe. His lips are smacking and pressing into your skin, all over your face, neck and hands. Anywhere he could possibly reach. 

There wasn’t much he could do standing in a huddled corner at nine in the morning on a Tuesday, where anyone could pass by and question what in the high school was going on. But there was more than enough Mingyu could do behind closed doors. 

In true Mingyu fashion, he’s begun to grope in every way you love the minute the lock clicks shut of his apartment, every fibre of both of your beings giddy and jumpy, giggles erupting from your tired mouths. You haven’t been touched in ages, always too tired to do anything even when you would find the time. 

It isn’t remotely strange that you're wet from only a few kisses and hot breaths against your neck. Although Mingyu’s hands haven’t been modest either, already reaching your clothed cunt as you fall into bed. 

He says it was your reward, for doing so good, his illustrious mouth suctioned onto your naked core, moving and grinding in ways you can more than just appreciate.

His tongue is nothing below made for you, like he knows exactly when to flick his tongue, graze his teeth and all but suck the daylights out of you. It’s marvellous, even more so as you realise he won’t stop. One, two, three mind blowing orgasms later, your legs still shake around his head as you cry out for him to stop. 

Not that he was going to listen, as he did not the last fifteen times you tried, simply pushing a finger into your abused hole to chuck you into yet another climax. You’re sobbing, trembling, sweating; but also half hearted in your attempts to stop him. 

By the time he’s relented, you’re sure you won’t feel a thing down there for at least a week. If Mingyu will even let you go untouched for that long. 

But as you’re finally able to catch your long lost breath in bed, and Mingyu has curled up right beside you, like he always does, you let the finality of it all sink in. You were done. And so was he. And you could now begin to experience a Mingyu that wasn’t exhausted, stressed or tired. Even now, the long indented layers of fatigue begin to melt away, revealing a less strained man. 

Mingyu was beautiful either way. 

“Are you okay?” he asks you, his fingers tracing your features. 

The pads of his fingers glide across your eyelids, down the slope of your nose, tracing the outline of your lips. You kiss his fingers as they reach you there, hand coming up to hold his wrists. You kiss the tips of his fingers, down to the palm of his hand. Eyes closed, you keep your lips there. 

“More than okay,” you mumble. 

“Good. Thought I lost you there.”

Stretching unceremoniously, you drape yourself over his naked form, head on his shoulder. “You’re not losing me. Not after being the sole reason I pass this devil’s module.”

“Is that all it takes? Make sure you don’t fail?”

“And give head like that.” It’s a half joke. “But also be Kim Mingyu comma TA.”

He mimics you between a breathy laugh, “Comma TA. Not anymore, I guess.”

“How happy are you?”

“Still have to grade the last set of papers. But I got what I wanted.”

“The recommendation? You deserve it.”

“That, and not having to be in Dr. Cho’s presence every other day. And you.”

You kiss his shoulder. “Look at you. All grown up with your big boy grad school on the horizon.”

“Not just yet.”

“You’ll get there too. If you can power through this hellsent semester, you can power through anything grad school applications throw.”

Mingyu shifts where he lays, taking a turn to lie on his side to face you. The afternoon sun peeks from behind his form, his outline made of pure gold. His breath is in your face as he talks, and there’s comfort in the air it penetrates.

“I only powered through this because of you. I hope you know that.” He’s smiling. 

“Girlfriend duties,” you quote solemnly. 

“I mean it. I knew I was walking into disaster with how this stupid job was going, all that work was just a distraction. I didn’t wanna believe this was a bad idea. And then you walked in.”

You cup his face and pout, “Oh, my damsel in distress.”

“Hm, my knight in shining armour,” he giggles. “Galloped in and saved me from myself.”

“You saved me too. From the world and its horrible creations.” 

“I’ll start talking in formulas if this keeps up.” 

You can only grumble in mild annoyance. 

“I’m glad I asked you to come in early that day,” he says.

“I’m glad I was a good samaritan and gathered all your stuff that day.” You grin.

Mingyu leans in and kisses you. It’s soft, slow, and drips of the romance he’s trying to bring into the conversation. His lips are bliss, the feeling of him is bliss. 

It’s almost scary how easily you’ve been able to give yourself to him. How quickly he’s placed himself in every nook and cranny of your heart. With his tired eyes and stronger than himself smile, the hand he extended in ways beyond you could ever explain to him. It’s terrifying when you realise what remains on the tip of your tongue, ready and bursting. 

But it’s true, and you can only pray it remains that way. Because in that moment, naked and tangled between Mingyu’s limbs, his heart in your ears, your hands on his being, you just know. 

“I think I might love you too.” 

[bellaveux]

BETWEEN THE PAGES | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

genre: college au! fluff, smut

summary: professor maximoff asks you out on a date.

content warnings: MINORS DNI! fluff, smut, college au!, unspecified age gap, professor!wanda, student!reader, bit of alcohol consumption, smut; service top!wanda, power bottom!reader kinda, making out, marking, fingering and oral (r! receiving), overstimulation, little bit of a praise kink

word count: 9.5k

note: i’ve been meaning to write another professor!wanda and black cat!reader fic so wrote this as kind of a prequel to AFTER CLASS but it’s long overdue lol. i hope u like it!

You always came to class early. That was the first thing she noticed about you. But, there was something about the way you entered her lecture hall for the first time, sitting just a few rows away from her desk, close enough for her to see you without anyone getting in the way. It was something about you that was so endearing. She just couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about you that made her stomach flutter and her heart beat faster than it typically does. Usually dressed in a skirt that gracefully swayed with each step and a cozy sweater that hugged your figure, you never failed to greet her with a shy smile each day you entered the room, and each time she swooned. Too cute. It was like that for the first few months: watching the door patiently to see when you would walk in, stealing glances your way when you were seated in front of her as she taught, or occasionally looking over the book she was reading while you were taking a test, reading a book, or working on notes. She couldn’t help it. It also didn’t help that you were not only beautiful but smart, too. Every test, assignment, and project she had given out, you nailed them with ease, almost like you'd already mastered the subject prior to her teachings. Perfect was what you were. She thought about it every day.

As each day passed, Wanda always looked forward to the days when you would enter her class. And she wasn’t trying to be a creep about it in any way, but she couldn’t help but look… and wonder. She wondered about what you were like outside of her class, if you were just as reserved and quiet as you were in here or if you were bubbly and talked a lot, and what your voice sounded like. You were quiet. And it wasn’t a quality that she didn’t like at all; in fact, it only made her more intrigued, like you were a mystery that she wanted to solve. In the quiet moments, when the world slowed down, her thoughts would invariably drift to you—your earnest gaze, your subtle smiles, the way your eyes seemed to light up the room.

But despite the elation of her thoughts of you, she makes sure to remind herself why you were here in the first place: you were her student. And for your professor to have such thoughts about one of her students, it was wrong. She knew this from the beginning. But try as she might to suppress her emotions, Wanda found herself captivated by your presence anyway.

And she really tried, to be fair. She tried to ignore her thoughts of you in her head, but she could only do so much. In the end, she couldn’t resist asking you to meet her after class during her office hours. She’d try multiple times to find the most credible excuse to get you to stay, and usually, she’d opt for subjects regarding your work and even ask you if you were interested in being a teacher’s assistant. Who in their right mind would decline that offer? You’d get paid on top of being alone in the same room with your favorite professor—the, despite her intimidating looks, easygoing professor that you had been fond of since day one. In fact, everyone liked her. Most of the students thought she was hot anyway, which you had to agree on as well.

The work she had you do was simple, for the most part. Grading papers and organizing paperwork and files for her were the most common tasks she gave you. Eventually she had you read a few essays and reports, asking you to judge how well they were written. Wanda thought of it as a learning experience—to read, collect your thoughts, elaborate, and then discuss with you on that same subject. It was a little nerve-racking, to say the least, but really, you enjoyed every second you spent with this professor. Especially since she was so nice to you.

And you’d be lying if you said you had never noticed her lingering eyes on you on several occasions. Sometimes she stands behind your seat and leans over to see your assignments, and you can smell her sweet perfume and feel her breath against the top of your head. Then, you’d be lying a second time if you said it didn’t make your stomach flutter each time she got close to you.

Of course, with the quiet moments you shared together each week, you began to notice some things you'd never noticed before: how she's unable to get to work without a hot cup of tea using that old, faded, and chipped mug that the university gave her a couple years ago, how she spends an extra few minutes in her office at the end of each day because she always misplaces her ID card, or how she constantly has her nose stuck in a book—a poetry book you’d often see, when she wasn’t reading those one of those meaty, mind-bending volumes.

And as time went by, you also began to notice more and more the way she would look at you. It wasn’t as if you were completely oblivious to her stares. You could see clearly when her eyes would linger a little longer than necessary, occasionally catching the flicker of a smile that your professor seemed to suppress. It was as if you had developed a sixth sense for each time her demeanor shifted or her eyes would trace over you, just as she was doing now.

"Is everything alright, Professor?" You say, your voice coming out smoothly, cutting through the quietness that filled the room.

"Yes, I’m fine." Wanda cleared her throat and turned away from you, her eyes darting back to the book she was supposedly reading. "It’s, um... I’m just lost in my thoughts."

"Lost in your thoughts or lost in trying not to stare too obviously?"

Your professor’s eyebrows twitched upwards, your question pinking her cheeks as she turned the page of her book mindlessly while attempting to hide her smile. "I assure you, (Y/n). This book is… intense."

"Intense?" You rolled your eyes, not entirely convinced by her excuse, as your eyes traced the cover of her book. "Hmmm, The Book of Nature… William Wordsworth?"

Wanda skimmed through the pages of her book and cleared her throat for the second time, "It's a deep exploration of... um, philosophical concepts. Quite thought-provoking, really."

"Philosophical concepts?" You repeated with a sly smile playing lightly at your lips. "Are you sure that’s what it’s about? If I remember correctly, Wordsworth is a poet, right? And you look pretty relaxed for someone who’s reading about some intense philosophical poetry."

"Well, I think philosophical debates can be strangely soothing sometimes," she told you with a chuckle, slowly making her way out of the nervous state she was in just a moment ago.

"Really? I mean, I love poetry, but that’s quite the intellectual balance you’ve got there."

"Yeah," she breathed, her confidence seemingly flowing from her body right in front of your eyes as she used a finger to adjust the collar of her button-up. "And speaking of balance, how do you manage to keep your work in check while being so captivatingly distracting?"

The blush that paints your cheeks presents itself much more quickly than you could’ve imagined. It was adorable. Managing to turn away from her this time, you avoid her eyes as yours land back down on the papers that were set in front of you, completely forgotten while being under your professor’s gaze. You could practically feel the smile on her face as she watched your every movement. Wanda pulled her office chair closer to yours, where you had brought an extra chair up to her desk as you worked. She set her book down softly, mindlessly leaning in closer and closer to your face as her eyes kept darting between your eyes and those delicious-looking lips of yours. Her tongue dragged itself along the bottom of her lip subconsciously as she stared at you, not even hiding her intentions this time.

"You make it awfully hard to concentrate, (Y/n)," she continued as her eyes traced over the contours of your face, down to the skin of your neck as it strained slightly underneath the collar of your sweater. "I find it rather difficult to stay focused when you’re sitting in front of me."

"Um, Professor… I think we should…" With a flustered smile and stern eyes, you motioned over to the clock right by the door, notifying her that her time with you was nearly up.

Wanda only smiled before speaking again, nodding her head as she leaned back slowly to glance over to check the time, "Of course. Do carry on with your student duties, Miss (L/n)."

To be honest, it’s the first time she has heard you talk so much. Your voice was delicate and smooth, a voice that she wanted to keep hearing over and over again. Talking to you was something she wanted more of. She was quite smug, thinking about how all the rest of the students who admired you for your intelligence and work ethic didn’t get to talk with you as much as she did or spend time with you as much as she did.

A triumphant warmth spread through Wanda's chest as she turned back to read her book. Successfully making you flustered had ignited a sense of giddiness she hadn't felt in a while. But, a calm smile played on her lips, a facade she effortlessly maintained to match your demeanor, masking the happiness that bubbled within her. It’s evident throughout the days, where fragments of her infatuation for you are sprinkled into every moment you spend together. In those moments, she loved everything about you—from the way you worked and focused on your tasks, to the way your voice sounded despite not talking all that much, to the way you furrowed your eyebrows when your eyes stumbled upon something that confused you, or when your lips would curve into that pretty smile she loved to see so much.

Eventually, Wanda came to terms with her feelings rather quickly, but made no move to pursue them just yet. For you to be her lover was something that was not allowed, especially in her profession. She’d also still have to tackle the subject of whether or not you harbored even the slightest similarity about whether you had the same interest as she did for you. During moments where she would sit alone in her office or at home, she’d often let her mind drift off to the thought of you and how she would treat you if she were able to call you hers. Gifts like flowers, books, or jewelry would gladly be given as attempts to make you happy. She’d give you flowers every day if it allowed her to see that smile of yours for even just one second.

The two of you spend the rest of the semester filled with mindless flirting and grading essays, projects, and assignments, all while Wanda reads most of the time, and by reading, you mean she skims over a couple pages and spends the next few minutes admiring the beauty that is you before her. And sometimes, she lets her mind wander just as her eyes do, down to the skin of your thighs underneath those black tights, wondering how it would feel to have her hands all over your legs. She wonders how you would sound, moaning her name as you give her the sweet taste of heaven. If you hadn't been so engrossed in the activity your mind was occupied with, you'd see how her eyes latch to your frame and the way her mouth waters at the sight. It takes everything in her to keep her composure and not pull you into her private office and have her way with you.

She wants to do this correctly, of course. She wants you to want it, too. Though, it may seem like you return her advances and all the rest of her flirty remarks, she wants to make sure it’s something you are sure of.

So, she asks. And she starts by giving you a gift.

"Shakespeare?" You questioned curiously, running a finger along the spine of the book as a shy smile slowly etched its way onto your face. "I didn’t really take you for a romantic, Professor."

She had given you a gift before you were able to step away so soon from her and her class room. The book—The Sonnets by William Shakespeare—rested neatly in the palm of your hand as Wanda watched you inspect it with eager curiosity. You had mentioned your love of poetry once, and with her own collection sitting in the comfort of her own home, she decided to give you one of the books that she loved so much. It was romantic and a tad bit cliché, she’d have to admit, but to make you happy just as you did for her was the only thing she wanted from this.

Wanda brought a hand up to scratch the back of her neck, her eyes darting down to the book in your hand, "Well, I-I appreciate the beauty in romance, yes."

"Thank you for this. I’ll make sure to read it over break," you say, holding the book tightly between your chest and your arm before turning to make your way out of the door. "See you next semester."

Wanda had pondered it, thinking how long the two weeks of winter break would feel with you away from her. The weekends already felt like too long of a wait before Monday came around—the first day of each week when you stepped foot in her class. She looked forward to every day because of you and loved thinking about you on the weekends, then she’d repeat it all over again. But, two weeks. Two whole weeks without seeing that pretty face of yours or hearing that quiet, pretty voice of yours—it sounded dreadful.

"(Y/n)?" She called out to you before you could step out of her empty lecture hall. "Can you stay for a bit? I have something to ask."

She asked you out to dinner in the next few minutes after going on a quite adorable ramble about her being so enamored by you that she couldn’t help but ignore her own boundaries as your professor and ask you out on a date. She was confident but, at the same time, so anxious to hear what you had to say about it. The stare you gave her after her little speech was enough to make her want to dig a hole so deep into the earth and crawl into it so that she’d never be able to see the light of embarrassment. Wanda watched as you clutched the book she gave you tightly in your arms. By this point, she was so sure you’d turn her down given how long you were taking to answer.

Of course, when you answered, she couldn’t process it correctly for the first few seconds, but as soon as she did, her eyes lit up just as brightly as the sun on a clear day. The smile she was biting back was contagious, making you roll your eyes and smile back as she fought the urge to wrap her arms around you. And for a moment, you even thought as if you could imagine a tail wagging back and forth behind her in excitement. You both agreed on next Friday night at eight in the evening, when she would pick you up, take you out to a nice restaurant, and treat you like a queen. You deserved a lovely evening out, and Wanda couldn’t wait to share it with you.

As she went about her daily tasks leading up to that Friday, an uncontainable excitement welled up within her, and she couldn't help but steal moments to envision the evening ahead, leaning back in her office chair to imagine the upcoming night with a dreamy smile on her face, the prospect of sharing dinner and conversation with you filling her mind. Her heart raced with anticipation, wondering what you’d wear on that night, wondering how even prettier you would seem so close next to her, wondering how your hand would fit in hers, and wondering if you’d let her steal a kiss or two, or maybe, if she was lucky, even more. And god, she prayed for all of the luck to be on her side for even just one night.

When Friday came, Wanda rushed home from her office at the university to get ready before she would drive to pick you up at the address you had emailed her—she forgot to ask where you lived, but before she could ask, you had emailed her your address a couple hours earlier. She smiled at the thought, being so excited for the date that she forgot to ask one of the most important questions. Wanda settled on wearing an all-black suit, one of her favorites, and made sure to smooth out every wrinkle with a precise touch, each movement revealing the anticipation bubbling beneath her calm exterior. She knew that your choice of attire was a mystery, and her all-black ensemble was a versatile canvas, ready to complement whatever you had in mind.

But, fuck, when she saw you—God, she was just in pure awe at the sight of you.

Wanda arrived a little bit early, the anticipation of your dinner date bubbling within her. She parked her car outside of your apartment building and leaned against it, one foot casually crossing over the other. She glanced at her watch, checking the time, but her heart raced with a different kind of countdown. As the moments passed, Wanda’s excitement only grew. But when you finally emerged from the building, the sight that greeted Wanda left her speechless. The dress you wore wrapped around your frame perfectly, the silky fabric resting on your soft curves, along with a daring slit that ran up your thigh, revealing a glimpse of your leg with each step you took, and it drove her absolutely crazy. Wanda's breath caught in her throat as she gazed at you; the sight of your shy smile made her heart race even faster.

Fuck, she wanted to say. And for a moment, she struggled to find her words, but not less than a second later, she managed to regain her composure, a smitten grin forming on her lips, "You look beautiful, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Professor," you replied, smiling innocently up into her eyes in a way that drove her insane. "You’re looking pretty amazing as well."

Wanda couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at your compliment, but she was still spellbound by the stunning vision before her. She offered her arm to you and walked with you towards the car, opening the car door for you. But, she couldn't shake the image of that tantalizing slit in your dress; the glimpse of your leg driving her senses into overdrive.

Throughout the night, Wanda found it nearly impossible to tear her gaze away from that slit in your dress. The subtle but alluring glimpse of your skin had cast a spell on her, igniting a fire of desire and fascination that she struggled to contain. Each moment she spent with you, Wanda's mind wandered, and she’d stumble on her words as she spoke, all because of her thoughts returning again and again to the sight that had driven her senses wild earlier. She couldn't help but steal glances at that tantalizing slit in your dress whenever you shifted or crossed your legs, her heart racing each time her eyes traced the path upward. And every now and then, you would catch Wanda's lingering gaze, a knowing smile playing on your lips. You seemed to relish the effect your attire had on your professor, your confidence growing as the evening progressed.

The date was going splendidly, with you and Wanda engaging in lively conversations, sharing stories, and relishing each other's company. You laughed together, savored delicious meals, and exchanged meaningful glances that hinted at your growing connection. Both of you were having a great time, enjoying the chemistry and camaraderie that seemed to come so naturally. However, your dress, still with its tantalizing slit, had become a magnetic force that Wanda found impossible to resist. It was as if her mind had been spellbound, repeatedly drawn back to that alluring detail with every glance in your direction. While you spoke passionately about your love for literature and your dreams, Wanda tried her best to maintain eye contact and stay engaged in the conversation. But time and again, her gaze would wander, trailing along the path of that tempting slit.

She stared all night, wondering what it would feel like to run her fingertips against your soft skin, wondering how you’d look when you slip out of your dress slowly, wondering how you’d sound—and the precious imagery alone caused all higher brain function to abandon her.

As the night continued, Wanda couldn't help but feel overwhelming happiness. Your presence was intoxicating, and your smile was a beacon that lit up the evening. It was a feeling she had longed for—the joy of being in the company of someone who not only understood her intellectually but also stirred something deeper within her. You were perfect. So perfect. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. Wanda was proud to have even come this far with you and wondered if you’d allow her the chance to take you out for a second time. She would be glad, too. God, she prayed you’d want to.

Dinner ended sooner than both of you would have liked. Wanda found herself lost in the sight of you the whole night, wishing she could linger in the moment a little while longer. And the idea of taking you home felt like an interruption to a masterpiece still in progress. She held your hand as she walked with you slowly down the path back to her car, which was parked a few ways away for this very reason.

But there was one thing Wanda couldn’t get off of her mind as she led you inside her car and started the drive back to your apartment—your lips. She wanted so badly, more than anything, to kiss you. Those lips that had been speaking to her for the entire night—she wanted to taste them and feel them against hers. With every passing streetlight, the desire to lean over and capture your lips at every red light only grew stronger. Her heart raced, and her fingers gripped the steering wheel every time she thought about it. The desire to taste the sweetness of your lips was undeniable. Yet, she hesitated. The night had been so perfect, and she didn't want to rush things.

"Thank you for tonight, Professor," you softly as soon as the car came to a slow stop in front of your building. "I had a wonderful time."

"Well, it’s not every day I get to have dinner with someone as beautiful as you," Wanda said, turning her head to face you as her hand gripped the steering wheel.

"You really know how to lay it on thick, don't you, Professor?" You rolled your eyes, trying to fight back the laugh that almost spilled from your mouth.

Wanda grinned from ear to ear and glanced at the street in front of her for only a moment, "I mean, only when it’s the truth—"

Mid-sentence, just as Wanda spoke, you leaned in and planted a soft, sweet kiss on her cheek, maybe a tad bit close to the corner of her lips. It was a sudden, tender gesture that caught Wanda completely off guard, making her grip tighten around the gear shift of the car. Then, you gently place your soft hand on top of hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and affection. You don’t miss the way her ears turned red as you pulled away from her face.

Eventually, Wanda found her voice, though it was tinged with surprise as she stammered out, "Well, that was... unexpected."

In her mind, truthfully, she wanted to ask you to do it again and again and again. Maybe she’d ask for you to kiss her lips next time, but she’d never let you go off to do anything else.

"I think you’re too much of a flatterer," you chuckled softly, your fingers gently tracing the outline of Wanda's hand on the center console. "Do you say that to all of your students, Professor?"

Still slightly stunned from the tiny kiss, Wanda turned to face you. Her usual composure had been momentarily shattered by the feeling of your lips against her skin, and she met your eyes with a genuine, heartfelt sincerity, "No… just you."

The words slipped out of her mouth, unfiltered and genuine, carrying with them the depth of her feelings. In that moment, Wanda realized that her attraction to you was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It wasn't just casual flirting with someone who she thought was pretty, as she did in the beginning; it was something deeper, something that had taken her by surprise the longer she had gotten to know you. Wanda's heart continued to race as she watched your playful expression soften, replaced by a warm and genuine smile.

"Do you want to come in, Professor?"

Wanda, still feeling the electrifying effects of the way your lips felt, faltered once more. The idea of spending more time with you was undeniably tempting, but she knew that if she continued this evening further, it would require every ounce of her self-control. Her hands ached to touch you, to run them along your waist and hips, and she longed to press her lips against yours over and over again. The dress you wore was not much help either; her eyes were always glancing down to that slit that showed off the soft skin of your leg. In her mind, a hundred affirmations echoed, each one urging her to say yes. So, she did.

You led her towards your apartment, hand in hand, walking down the softly lit halls of the building in a happy, expectant silence. Although she tried to hide it, Wanda could feel her own excitement building to an almost unbearable level. Her heart raced, and her breaths came a touch quicker as you led her to your place, the feeling of your hand in hers setting her skin on fire. When you reached the door, you fumbled for your keys with one hand, your other still firmly clasped with Wanda's. Your movements were deliberate, yet there was an undeniable excitement radiating from you, a subtle telltale sign that you, too, were looking forward to what lay ahead.

A sense of comfort washed over Wanda as she stepped inside, the atmosphere of your warm apartment enveloping her as she followed you in. She watched your hips as you walked in front of her, her cheeks and ears reddening at the sight once more. Your space was also thoughtfully decorated, exuding a lived-in charm that made it feel like home.

"I’m sorry about the mess. It’s usually tidier, I promise," you tell her, placing your bag gently on the counter in the kitchen before turning back to look at her. "I honestly wasn’t planning on inviting you in yet, but… I don’t know; I guess I couldn’t help myself."

Wanda, however, didn't seem the least bit bothered. Her warm smile remained unwavering, and she looked around with genuine appreciation. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her hands now stuffed into the pockets of her pants, coolly leaning against the wall, "No, I don’t mind it. And it’s not messy at all. It’s a lovely home."

Her eyes roamed over your cozy living room with its soft, inviting couch, adorned with a few well-placed cushions. The warm glow of dimmed lamps bathed the room in a soft, comforting light. Bookshelves lined one wall, their shelves cradling an eclectic collection of literature, each book seeming to hold a story of its own. The scent of a vanilla-scented candle lingered in the air. It was a cozy, lived-in scent that made Wanda feel instantly at ease—a reflection of you and everything you loved. And on your coffee table, amidst your own collection of books, she saw the one she had given you. It lay there, open and well-loved, with pages slightly ruffled and a bookmark placed near the end. In no way would Wanda have minded the mess at all, not when she was surrounded by the tokens of you and your life.

"I’m almost done with it," Wanda heard you say as she looked around your apartment. "The sonnets are really beautiful. I think I’m enjoying it better than his plays."

The professor raised an eyebrow at your claim, "Bold statement, (Y/n)… But I’m glad you’re enjoying it."

You smiled at her as you moved to get two glasses and a bottle of wine that you’ve been saving for special occasions, and this was definitely one of them. But when you turned to look back at Wanda, her gaze, once warm and affectionate, had intensified with desire and lust as she watched you pour the wine into the glasses. Her eyes held an unmistakable hunger, as if you were the most captivating thing in the world, and it didn't go unnoticed. Wanda's stare was so intense and filled with longing that it seemed to sear through you like a fiery caress. It made your heart race, and your breaths quickened as you tried to maintain your composure. With that look in your eye, you knew this night was about to get even more special.

"What are you thinking so hard about over there, Professor?" You asked with a smirk that made Wanda weak in her knees.

Wanda shook her head and bit her lip, her cheeks reddening at the topic of her own thoughts. She made her way towards you as you slowly lifted the wine glass to your lips. And although you were occasionally flustered by her intense gaze, you had a reputation for your own brand of composed charm. Wanda approached the counter where the wine glasses were placed, her fingers lightly caressing the stem of a glass as she lifted it herself. Her movements were fluid and sensual, drawing your attention like a moth to a flame. But this time, when she turned to face you, she found herself locked in a gaze that mirrored her own desire. Your eyes held a magnetic allure, an intensity that matched Wanda's in every way—your look was a silent challenge, a dare to see who would break first.

You brought the wineglass to your lips, and the woman in front of you watched with a heightened sense of awareness, her gaze locked onto the way your lips delicately touched the rim of the glass. Your soft and inviting lips seemed to beckon Wanda like an irresistible temptation. They glistened with the remnants of the wine, and a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. She couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to taste those lips and feel their softness against her own. She wondered how your lips would feel, how they would respond to her touch, and how you’d moan into her mouth. And she couldn’t get her mind off of it.

"Professor," you spoke, setting your glass down on the counter before stepping close in front of her. "I think… you’re thinking too much."

Wanda’s anticipation was palpable, and she held her breath as you closed the distance between the two of you, her heart pounding in her chest. As you stood so close, your breaths nearly mingling, you sensed that she was still overthinking the moment. And finally, in a bold move, your hands reached out, gently tugging on her suit jacket, pulling her even closer. The touch was electrifying, sending a shiver down her spine as your lips met hers in a deep kiss. Wanda's breath caught in her throat as your lips met hers, and she melted into the kiss with a soft groan, moaning at the sweetness of your lips that she had been waiting all night to feel.

You led her to your bedroom with your lips never leaving hers and your arm around her neck while your other hand pulled her jacket roughly off her shoulders. A laugh bubbles against your mouth as you trip over the rug on the way to your room, but Wanda catches you with a chuckle, her hands at your waist holding you against her. Your lips fit so perfectly against hers, and the taste of you on her tongue unlocked all of the desires she had been trying to keep at bay. All she could think about was you. Mere seconds have gone by when your back finally meets the soft comfort of your bed, all while Wanda explores your mouth with her tongue. She indulges herself in the taste of you and tugs desperately at your dress, just as you tried to undo her belt, albeit poorly. The gasp you let out when Wanda moved her head down to your neck, sucking, licking, and nipping at your sensitive skin, distracted you from your current task, leaving her belt loosely unbuckled.

"Mmh, Professor…" Your bedroom was painted with your needy moans and Wanda’s soft grunts as she pressed herself against you, your body pressed in between her and the mattress.

"Wanda," she murmured into your neck, leaving marks on your skin as her mouth explored. "You can call me Wanda… Please."

You smiled and ran your hand through her hair, urging her to look at you and bring her face close to yours just for you to say her name in the sultriest way that made the woman in front of you physically stutter, "Wanda."

Wanda swallows the lump in her throat, dazed as she watches your lips as you spoke out her name. She parted her lips, unaware of the hazy look in her eyes as she stared at you. Dragging her tongue over her bottom lip, she subconsciously leaned in to press another kiss to your sweet mouth, but you cupped her face with a soft yet commanding touch before she could close the distance. Wanda's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as your gentle fingers caressed her skin. She felt a shiver run down her spine as your touch lingered, trailing slowly from her face, down her neck, and over her collarbone. Your hands moved with deliberate tenderness, unbuttoning the rest of her shirt one button at a time.

And she could only watch; her eyes locked onto your hands as if they were the most mesmerizing thing in the world. Your movements were slow, each button releasing its hold on the fabric with a soft, tantalizing pop. Wanda, lost in the sensations of your touch, was in a daze once again. Her eyes remained fixed on your hands, watching as they worked their way down, unbuttoning her shirt one by one. Your fingers brushed against her skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake. With the last button undone, you gently slid Wanda's shirt off her shoulders, and it slipped down her arms, a whisper of fabric gliding to the floor. You couldn’t help but smile at her, hovering over you with a black bra on, her pants unbuckled, and her hair tousled from all of the making out. God, was she beautiful.

And Wanda thought the same thing about you, if not more. You still had your dress on, and the way you spread your legs a bit so she could settle comfortably on top of you did nothing but make her feral. Wanda’s mouth practically watered at the sight of your exposed skin. With a gentle and curious hand, her fingers danced along the skin of your leg, slipping under that same tantalizing slit that had been teasing her the whole night. She kissed your chest as she did so, but with the way you were squirming underneath her, Wanda couldn’t get the thought of your hot, naked, trampling body out of her head. And she could feel it—fuck, that lacy underwear you were wearing—as if you had planned this all along. It was driving her absolutely insane.

"You can take my clothes off for me," you whispered lowly into her ear, and for a moment, Wanda froze at your words.

Soon enough, her hands started pulling roughly at every piece of fabric she could get her hands on. She needed to see you. She was going to lose it if she didn’t see you. And despite how rough her hands were, Wanda carefully slipped the dress off of your body, undoing its zipper in a way you almost didn’t notice. But all caution was thrown out the window when Wanda finally laid eyes on your half-naked body. It was black lace underwear that you were sporting, and all she could think about was how stunning you looked. She sat there for a while, frozen and heated, her eyes raking over every inch of your body. To think that you were wearing this underneath that goddamn dress this whole time, god, it makes her absolutely exasperated with desire.

"I’m getting a bit cold here, Professor," you smirk, your fingers trailing up her pants, finally meeting her undone belt once again. "Warm me up a little?"

"Yes ma’am," Wanda breathed out and nodded, her hand ghosting over your skin once more as you opened your arms and urged her to come closer—the sight causing her to melt and a question she didn’t even think twice about spilling from her mouth. "Can I fuck you? Please?"

Almost immediately, Wanda leaned down and pressed her face against your body, littering soft and hot kisses along your stomach, up the valley of your breasts, your collarbones, and to your neck. She would lick, suck, and kiss all over again, marking your skin with the prettiest bruises. You almost forget to answer her question when she starts kissing you, but she pleaded once more. To let her do whatever she wanted, just say the word, and she’ll make sure to make you feel so fucking good.

"Please," she begged you, whining only slightly as she kissed your neck. "Please, (Y/n). Please—I'll do anything, I—"

"Touch me there," you said, slipping your hand into hers to lead it down to your warm, clothed center. "Right there, Wanda."

You let her fingers press against the fabric, feeling how undeniably soaked you were. Without a second thought, Wanda immediately circles your clothed pussy with the pads of her fingers, just getting lost in the feeling of your wet heat. Her jaw slowly drops as she watches her own fingers play with your cunt. She pressed even harder the moment she finds your clit underneath the thin fabric and when you moaned, arching your back slightly in the process, she lost all self-control. You don’t even get a second to catch your breath as Wanda immediately starts clawing at your underwear, pulling your bra off of your chest in the quickest way possible. And, when she moved her hands back to your panties to uncover the very treasure she was yearning for, you suddenly heard an unmistakable sound—the sound of fabric tearing.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as Wanda stared at the torn piece of underwear in her hands, "Did you just—"

"I’m sorry." Then she kissed you to give you something else to think about other than the fact that she just ripped your precious, laced underwear.

"You ripped—"

She kissed you again, murmuring against your lips, "I’m sorry, baby."

"That was expensive, you know. I just got it last week," you said, rolling your eyes, wrapping your arms around her neck as she continued to kiss your skin all over again. And it was working—when you felt her lips kissing you and sucking on you, you could barely think about anything else.

The corner of Wanda’s lips turned upward at the thought of you buying lingerie just for her, "I said, I’m sorry. I’ll get you another one, I promise… But, right now, I really want to fuck you. I want to fuck you until you can't move. Let me make you feel better, baby? Please."

Wanda's plea hung in the air, her voice a desperate whisper filled with desire. When she turned to look back at you, she did so with an intensity that made your heart race even faster. Already blushing from the heat of the moment, you felt your cheeks grow even hotter and hotter. Your gaze locked onto Wanda's lidded eyes, and you could see clear as day the raw need inside of them.

Your lips parted, and a deep, crimson blush spread across your cheeks. With a soft voice, almost breathless, you finally gave in, "You’re lucky I like you, Professor."

You were going to say more, but you couldn’t help the gasp that fell from your lips when Wanda dips two fingers into your pussy without any warning. She could feel you tense up around her waist, and your hands moved to grip her biceps as she started pumping into you at a slow pace, easing her way up to a faster one. Wanda’s jaw dropped once again, moaning as she felt just how tight, warm, and wet you were around her fingers. She could feel every sliver of you, your spongy walls wrapping around her digits, and you gasping right into her ear. God, it was so perfect. You are so perfect. She could fuck you like this forever.

"Does that feel good?" she asked, looking up at you with lidded eyes while her fingers continued to make their way in and out, in and out.

"Yes, right there," you nod quickly, moaning in her ear as your grip on her arms got tighter, trying to hold on for dear life as Wanda gradually got faster and faster. "You feel so good inside of me, Wanda. So good—ah!"

The woman reveled in your praise, unable to hold back her own moans as she watched her fingers, glistening with your slick, sink deeper and deeper.

"You’re sucking my fingers in, baby." And you truly were. Her fingers are buried deep in your pussy, and almost immediately, she finds that weak, spongy spot inside of you and begins to torture that button. With your moans getting pounder and louder, she penetrates deep against it, groaning into your neck as she listens to the music of your moans and whimpers.

After a moment of getting lost in the heavenly sounds that were spilling from your mouth, Wanda pulls your leg over to your chest, pumping her fingers in and out at a much faster pace than before. With her digits accelerating in speed, your body jolts and your moans go up an octave as Wanda continued to fuck her fingers into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling her press against that sweet spot inside your pussy over and over again, building up to the climax she had been working diligently to witness. And finally, the band holding you together finally breaks, your body succumbing to one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your life. Wetness pools all over her hand, and your pussy clenches tightly around her fingers. Wanda melts at the sight of your trembling body and shaky legs as your hands grip onto her biceps even harder, trying to hold on as she helped you ride out your climax.

When you calmed down, legs trembling against her, Wanda carefully pulled her fingers out of you with a squelch. She stared down in awe at your wetness, glistening all over her fingers and dripping down her hand. With her lips parted and eyes glued, you could not help but smile as you were catching your breath, still a bit hazy from the orgasm she had just given you. When you felt like the professor was taking a bit longer than expected, you reached down and gently brought her hand close to your face, her eyes following as you did so. And when you opened your mouth, you dragged your tongue slowly over the length of her fingers, and all Wanda had the strength to do was watch.

"Fuck," Wanda breathed out as you licked her hand clean of your essence.

You pulled Wanda in by the neck to kiss her, and she groaned into your mouth when she tasted your juices on your tongue—the taste of how good she made you feel. After pulling away to catch your breath once more, Wanda made her way back down again, leaving kisses along your skin as she traveled to the heavenly space between your gorgeous legs. And with mere inches away, she could smell you, smell the taste of you, and it lingered on her tongue, only making her yearn for more. The scent of you floods her senses, and she leans in with lidded eyes, lost in the thought of having you come right into her mouth. God, she wanted it—she needed it.

She was so close—her mouth was so close. You were right there, all ready in her mind for the grand meal she was about to indulge herself in. And with a soft but firm hand holding her head back by her hair, you stopped her.

"Not yet," you told her, shaking your head slightly as your fingers threaded through her hair.

"What?" Wanda gives you another dazed look, confused and almost frustrated with the fact that you interrupted her on her way to a heavenly meal.

"Not yet," you repeated once again, louder and clearer, with a more demanding tone. "I want you to watch me."

With her eyebrows raising in surprise, Wanda wondered what it was you had in store for her, "Watch you?"

With a teasing smile, you took your hand off of Wanda’s head, slowly dragging your fingers against the inside of your thigh, then in between, the soft pads of your fingers meeting your clit. There was nothing else Wanda could keep her eyes on except the way you pressed softly onto your clit, with another moan slipping out. Your clit was wet and slippery, coated with your juices. You could feel her heavy breath against your pussy, just centimeters away from her face, and all Wanda could do was stare. The sound of your quiet whimpers filled her ears, and it took everything inside Wanda not to dive in, face first, into your heavenly heat.

You must’ve known. You must’ve known what you were doing; keeping her desperate and begging while also checking if she’d be good and obey. And although it was hard to keep away, Wanda followed your orders and watched. With her eyes stuck to that precious button you were torturing all by yourself, she couldn’t help but pant slightly, like an obedient dog waiting for its signal to start eating.

Soon, you were getting close all over again, and Wanda was disappointed that it was not her doing. Although your moans and whimpers were more than enough to fuel her desires, waiting to touch you almost became unbearable, but she remained still, her eyes still glued to your pretty pussy as you touched yourself.

"Let me—Let me touch you," Wanda pleaded, unable to take her eyes off of the way you were rubbing your fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Please, let me help."

"N-Not yet," you said again, your body writhing more and more as each second passed.

With a groan, Wanda dropped her head down against the plush, inside part of your thighs, holding you down as you chased your own high. She kept watching with her mouth open as she resisted each and every urge in her body that told her to ignore your order and just jump right in, but she held herself back. She didn’t even know how, but she knew that once you allowed her, you’d reward her with the best meal and orgasm you could ever give her.

And just as you were about to hit your peak, you let one word slip, "Now."

Wanda finally opened her mouth and let her tongue fall. Her jaw drops as she lets her tongue travel from the bottom to the top, dragging it through your folds and swirling it messily around your clit. The taste of you was as blissful as angels singing in her mouth, as if her tastebuds had been blessed by the gods themselves. Your cries and moans rested well on Wanda’s ears, doing nothing to stop her from eating you out so fervently. A pleasured groan fell from Wanda’s muffled mouth as you tugged harshly at her hair, Her breath was hot, and your pussy had you squirming beneath her. It was heaven for Wanda. God, she’d give everything if it meant being able to live the rest of her days down here, with her head between your legs and your pussy in her mouth. She’d be set for life.

Your poor clit was already so sensitive, and Wanda was lapping at you like a thirsty dog. Your precious brain couldn’t even focus anymore, and all you could think about was Wanda’s tongue. And because of how close you were just before she started, your orgasm started to build higher and higher in a matter of seconds. Her mouth showed no remorse, and the lewd noises only made you flush deeper. With her thighs squeezing her head between your thighs, Wanda devoured you, holding you still with ease despite your constant squirming. Then, she wrapped her mouth around your clit, and sucked, and sucked, and sucked, and sucked, until she had you screaming her name into the air as you came inside of her mouth.

And yet, she doesn’t stop.

"W-Wanda, I—"

"Not yet," she said, voice muffled as she continued to fuck you through your orgasm, her tongue swirling and licking every crevice in and out of your sex.

Your words die in your mouth, and you let out a squeal as she buries her tongue right into your pussy all over again, licking and swirling it inside of you as you whined about how it was too much for you to handle. But, she kept going anyway. And fuck, you felt incredible wrapped around her tongue; it drove Wanda insane. Your body was hot, trembling at the mercy of her touch, screaming out as Wanda continued to overstimulate you. She was now far from being gentle. How could she? When you had been teasing her all through the night with that slit in your dress and those eyes that were begging her to do something? Occasionally, she’d open her eyes to see you arching your back, screaming into the pillow, and it made Wanda moan against your pussy, the vibrations doing more to stimulate you.

With her eyes glued to your body as your legs tensed around her head and your stomach clenched as you moaned, Wanda whined and pushed herself further into you. Her hands were now spreading your folds open as she dragged her tongue up and down your fold before wrapping around your clit once more. Even when you finally gushed inside her mouth, she kept going, even with your entire body enveloped in shivers, as she savored each and every drop of your essence.

"I think–It’s too much—" you tried to say.

But, she just hit you with the same words all over again, "Not yet."

And she’d make you come a third time, then a fourth, then a fifth—until you couldn’t take it anymore. By the end of all of it, Wanda goes back up to your face, her heart racing faster as she sees your tear-stained cheeks and a lazy smile on your face as you try to look at her. She wipes them clean with her thumb and kisses them with her lips, using her other hand to calm your trembling body by running it along your quivering legs.

You reach out for her with a whimper, trying to grab hold of her, begging for her care as she soothes your body. Wanda smiles and re-kisses each bruise she left on you, all the way up until she makes it to your mouth. She kisses you softly and gently, and you can taste yourself right on her tongue. Nuzzling your face into her neck, Wanda pulls your body to lay on top of her, securing a tight and comforting hold on you as you began your drift to sleep.

It’s everything Wanda could have ever wanted—to be with you. It was perfect. You were perfect.

"You did so good, Wanda," you said sleepily into her skin, muffled as you spoke. "So good for me."

"I think I should be the one saying that, (Y/n)," she replied with a proud smile as she ran her hand through your hair. Eventually, her hand rested on your cheek, soothing her thumb over your skin as you began to let your eyes flutter closed at her soothing touch. "You are… so beautiful, darling… So perfect."

You almost fall asleep after a few seconds. Her touches, the feeling of her breathing, and the way her skin felt was everything you ever wanted and more. Wanda laid there with the same thought in her head, her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. As she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, she couldn't imagine a more perfect moment.

“I have something for you,” you say, voice rasp and groggy as you moved reach something from the drawer of your side table. “It’s nothing special… it’s just… you keep losing your card, so..”

You couldn't help but feel a touch of nervousness. You had spent hours searching for the perfect gift, wanting to express you affection for Wanda in a meaningful way. Yet, when you were finally about to give it to her, you couldn't help but feel a bit shy about its simplicity.

But then, Wanda's eyes lit up with curiosity as she accepted the small box and carefully opened it. Inside, she found a cute red lanyard with a playful pattern, and her heart swelled with affection. She held it delicately in her hands, her fingers gently tracing the tiny pattern that adorned the fabric. It was a simple yet thoughtful gift, and she couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for you for choosing it.

Your shyness melted away, replaced by a radiant smile, as you watched Wanda’s joy. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth, knowing that your gift had brought a smile to the professor’s face.

Wanda turned towards you, her eyes soft with emotion and her heart full. She reached out and gently cupped your cheek with her hand, her thumb tenderly brushing against your skin. With a sweet and sincere smile, Wanda leaned in slowly, her lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. Your lips met like two puzzle pieces finally fitting together, and for that moment, the world seemed to fade away.

“It’s perfect,” Wanda says, unable to suppress the way her lips curved upward. “Thank you.”

Then, each day as you arrived for class, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat when you saw Wanda. What caught your attention immediately was the sight of the red lanyard that Wanda wore around her neck. It didn't matter if Wanda's outfit matched the lanyard or not; it was always there, a constant presence, and a sweet reminder of the thoughtful gift you had given her. On some days, it stood out vividly against Wanda's attire, a burst of color that added charm to her ensemble. On others, it contrasted playfully, a delightful pop of red against more subdued colors. But in any case, it was always there.

Over the next few weeks, You and Wanda found yourselves in a whirlwind of newfound affection and stolen moments. In the classroom, your glances became a language of your own. Wanda would catch your eye from across the room, and a playful yet affectionate smile would curve both yours and her lips. It was as if you shared an inside joke, one that no one else in the class could comprehend. As the days went by, their desire for each other grew. They were days off of stolen kisses, lingering glances, and shared smiles that only you could fully understand.

One day, in the middle of a lecture, Wanda couldn't resist the urge any longer. She discreetly slipped out of her seat and gently tugged at your hand, pulling you slightly behind and into a closet at the back of the room, out of sight from her classmates' curious eyes. With a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye, Wanda leaned in and pressed her lips against yours. It was soft and tender, a tantalizing taste of their affection that left both of you breathless. The classroom continued with the lecture, seemingly oblivious to the hidden exchange.

Yet, for Wanda, those stolen kisses were like sweet secrets shared only between the two of you.

— navigation!

[kuniihoonii]

Overstimulating sub!aventurine // HC

Minors DNI // 18+

Warnings: overstimulation (obviously), nipple play, praising, handjob, aven goes into subspace <3. Not proof read.

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I wrote anything, specifically smut related so I decided go do a headcannon to kind of ease myself into writing again 😋. If you have any ideas for headcannons you'd like to see, feel free to send me an ask !

I feel like he's already pretty sensitive... like.. everywhere. So when I say overstimulate him, I don't only mean his pretty cock. Overstim his cute nips too~ suck on them or roll your thumb of them, it'll drive him insane <3. If you're giving him a handjob while also playing with one of his nips.. oh god 😵‍💫. He'd let out such loud moans if you do that <3. He'd already be quite loud, he just can't help it~ he's also going to try and pretend what you're doing doesn't effect him but that won't last long.

Now... when he cums the first time and you keep going, he'll whimper out "wait I just ahh came." He'd get so whiny <33. He'd try to grab your hand but he'll stop himself because he wants to be good for you. If you wanna be mean, keep playing with his nips too. If you wanna be a little nicer then just focus on his cock <3. Either way he'll be a moaning, broken mess <3.

Praise him while doing this !!! He'll completely melt. Tell him how good he's doing for you, how good he's taking you. Call him a good boy <3. Your angel <3. Mixing the overstimulation with praise will break him further <3.

That makes me think... Aventurine going into subspace 😵‍💫. He'll start begging and not even knowing what he's begging for. All he knows is the pleasurable pain he's feeling along with the praise you're giving him. Cup his cheek with your free hand and kiss him <3. Let's say you already made him cum twice. Tell him "just one more, yeah? You can do that for me, angel, can't you?" He'll whine but he'll nod "mkay." Call him a good boy for going so long <3.

Keep kissing him <3. Kiss his cheeks, lips, jawline and his pretty neck <3. He'll be grabbing onto you, wanting to keep you close <33. God and his fucked out face when he cums for the last time 😵‍💫. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes rolling, that cute blush on his face and his hair disheveled. He'd hold you tighter and let out such a pretty whine <333.

Once you're done with him. Clean him up and let him know how good he's done and how proud you are of how long he lasted <3. It'll feel strange to him, being taken care of so well. He loves it though, he loves being loved and he hopes you never stop loving him. Actually... tell him "I love you" after that, he'll be so happy <3. He's probably gonna pass out after all that. Almost resting his whole body on yours and his face in your neck as he dozes off.

[luvt0kki]

𝟎𝟎𝟐 | 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭

The distance and the time between us

It’ll never change my mind, cause’

Baby, I would die for you

🎧 : Die For You - The Weekend

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

001 | 002 | next

pairings : ot8 x reader ( mingi x reader )

wc: 6.1k ( sorry for any errors ;-; )

cw: mature, minors do not interact, nsfw, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn, polyamory, smut , dom!Mingi for this chapter, choking kink, reader is bratty here, seggs, oral, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, hinted threesome, we feel bad for Wooyoung, filming/recording kink, some possessiveness on Mingi’s end, voyeurism. SPECIAL APPEARANCE OF SOMEONE IN THE END 👀

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: I’m so amazed at how well received the first chapter was and it really gave me the motivation to write the second one. I hope you guys like this one, it’s been awhile since I wrote some smut it’s like I’m losing my skill of seggsual euphemisms. ALSO ONE OF MY FAVOURITE WRITERS HERE IS READING MY FIC?! like omg no way 😭 hope you guys like this one . ( Feel to scream/fangirl in my askbox, I love those kind of interactions. I NEED TO KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS TOO) 💕

The Destiny was a spaceship Hongjoong procured with frightening ease from the Military Space Base he was stationed in long ago.

That was the sugarcoated way of saying he stole it.

If he hadn’t turned his back on the corrupt Military base, this fighter military starship turned into one of the most renowned ships and weaponized fortress, wouldn’t have become your shared space with your home, your home being the boys.

“I’ve kept your room clean,” Seonghwa stood next to you while you leaned into Mingi’s side who refused to not be on you in any way. He was clingy like that.

“You didn’t have too, Hwa.”

“I had some time to kill in the months you’ve been away. As usual, I didn’t snoop around.” He reassured you, hands folded neatly and elegantly behind him. “I left some little surprises for you to find too.”

“It’s not like she’ll be staying there all the time,” Mingi said, hand on the small of your back and guiding you up the ramp and into the ship. “She’ll be with me.”

“Don’t hog her.” San butted in, a small slouch in his usually straight posture.

“Awe, Sannie.” You cooed sweetly, rubbing his arm.

Wooyoung groaned, a couple of paces behind you, Mingi, San and Seonghwa.

“Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Yunho asked with a lilt of humor in his tone.

“Mingi’s room is next to mine.” Wooyoung huffed, feeling the comfort and safety of the Destiny make him relax with each step they took back into their home.

“And?” Yunho raised a brow.

“Never mind.” I don’t want to hear them fucking.

Even though Wooyoung didn’t say that out loud, Yunho knew what ‘never mind’ entailed. He can tell by the way he threw glances at you but the taller man only smiled and pretended like everything was fine and that he was oblivious.

“Join us in the lounge yeah?” He patted Wooyoung on the back. “We’ll be drinking a bit more and catching up. Plus, you can start to get know her better.”

“O-okay.” He could use a couple of more drinks to relax a bit.

Wooyoung paused a bit in the hall, letting his crew mates walk ahead of him and into the warm lit lounge a couple more steps forward. It’s not that he was anxious about you being here and adjusting to the dynamics with eight of you. He was confused. He felt as if there was something he didn’t know, something kept from him and he just couldn’t quite place his finger on it. It’s like something was staring him right in the face and whatever it was, was just at the tip of his tongue but he really couldn’t conclude what it was.

Other than that, the more he was around you, flashbacks of how you two danced in the club, so close and teasing each other plagued his thoughts. The way you touched him earlier that night left a ghost touch that sent shivers down his spine when he thought about it or like now, when he looked at you leaned into Mingi’s side on the couch with his arm draped over your shoulder laughing at something Jongho said.

Now he could see you properly. The mask was discarded and sat on the low coffee table in the center and without it, he was even more mesmerized. The way your eyes smiled with your lips and how your eyes paid attention to whoever spoke, as if everything they were saying to you was the most wonderful and interesting thing in the world. This was completely different from the woman he had danced with. You looked…sweet?

“Oh? This is the childhood best friend you were talking about.” Your pretty lashes fluttered at the realization while you held conversation with Yeosang sat on the couch across you with San.

Wooyoung perked up in his seat at the mention of him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I hope Hongjoong didn’t give you a hard time when you joined.” You smiled gently.

Hongjoong did take a while to warm up to him…but Wooyoung didn’t want to admit it, well not in front of the said man.

“Did he give you a hard time?” Wooyoung turned the question to you.

“Not at all.” You shrugged your shoulders a bit while Mingi played with the ends of the pink bob wig.

“You mean he couldn’t because you two were at each other’s throats.” Yunho chuckled, recalling the memory. “Literally.”

“What?” Wooyoung’s eyes widened, glancing between you and Hongjoong who shared a knowing look with one other. “Someone care to tell me more?”

“Y/N was actually hired to kill Hongjoong.” San spoke up. “She had snuck into the ship when we had docked in Estrade for supplies and she got to him in his office.”

“How?”

San laughed a little at the memory, glancing your way with a smile that Wooyoung has never seen on him before. It was different to the one when he’s happy, this one was tender and sweet.

He tilted his head up a little, hand gesturing to ceiling. “Through the vents.”

“It was almost too good to be true. The Destiny’s vents were perfect for anyone to infiltrate which was why after the incident, I advised him to tighten the security of the ship.” You added, unclasping your heels and slipping them off before folding them beneath you, snuggling closer to Mingi.

“I still don’t know how you found the entryway of the vents or even pried it open.” Hongjoong shook his head at the memory.

“What? Like it’s hard?” You stared down at him with a playful smirk and eyes twinkling challengingly.

“Careful, baby.” Mingi warned lightly, knowing what could transpire if you and Hongjoong went head to head again.

“So what stopped you from killing him?” Wooyoung asked. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.

“My devilishly good looks.” Hongjoong uttered while you said a different answer.

“San.”

A silence fell amongst the group, it was comfortable for the most part but Wooyoung found the silence to be fuel to the bonfire of curiosity that sparked in the private dance room.

Noticing Wooyoung’s inquisitiveness, you decided to give him just enough to quiet his mind.

“San and I had worked together in the past. I trust him with my life. He asked me not to kill Hongjoong so…I didn’t.”

The answer was enough for now and a part of Wooyoung told him to stop prying and that he shouldn’t , not when he’s around all the other members. What irked him as well was how you had said that with such a pretty smile and a soft look in your eyes. Were you really dangerous?

“It’s not like you could, sweetheart.” Hongjoong smirked and you rolled your eyes, quickly deciding to end the growing tension with all the questions. There were things that needed to be discussed with the others. Which was what exactly about you and about your past could be shared with the new crew member.

“No, I couldn’t.”

Your voice was soft, gazing at the Captain in a way Wooyoung felt envious. Could he earn the same gaze from you? Would you look at him one day with the same fondness you had for all of them?

“You’re unfortunately too handsome to kill. It’d be a shame for such a pretty face to be smothered by a pillow.”

Your words made Hongjoong laugh while the rest smiled at how you two interacted. Wooyoung didn’t know if he was reading into it too much but they all looked at you in a way that hinted a closeness that was more than camaraderie, and a bond and trust that grew between a crew.

“As much as I’d love to stay up and catch up with you all, I’m going to retire for the evening.” You bade them good night, hooking the straps of your heels by your finger before getting off the couch and your other hand in Mingi’s.

“Goodnight, fellas.” Mingi clicked his tongue with a smirk, most of them rolling their eyes at him as the two of you made your way to the crews deck.

Once the two of you were out of ear shot, Seonghwa spoke.

“San, you’re pouting.”

“Mingi hogs her.” He murmured almost child like and crossed his arms over his chest.

“We’ll all get a chance to catch up and spend time with her. But you know…Mingi.”

“He’s way too clingy. She was my friend first.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know.” Yunho placed his hands on San’s shoulders briefly before excusing himself to his room.

Wooyoung was next to call it a night, unaware of how Yeosang, Jongho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong watched him leave. They were concerned…but they knew they needed to discuss something. Well, someone.

Wooyoung.

“So? Did you enjoy my little show?”

Mingi was watching you look around his room as if it was the first time you were ever let in here. He was sat on the foot of his bed, hands on the mattress as you removed your earrings and placed it on his desk.

“I did,” he replied, eyes completely on you and taking you in. “But when I realized that you had been dancing for other men I got jealous.” There was that hint of agitation in his voice.

“You don’t need to be jealous.” You reassured him, removing Yunho’s blazer and draping it over neatly on the back rest of Ming’s desk chair. “They never touched me.”

Mingi’s eyes darkened at the sight of your almost naked form. It has been too long since he was last with you.

You watched Mingi’s eyes rake your form through the mirror. He scanned you from your heels to your head. His eyes lingered on the plumpness of your ass accentuated by the lace purple underwear a bit longer before he met your eyes in the mirror.

“Keep the wig on, baby.”

“Oh, you like it?” You grinned, turning around to slowly walk towards him, letting the beaded strings of your bralette sway and shimmer.

“I like the whole get up. It’s sexy.” His hand reached for your waist once you stood between his parted thighs, the tall big man gazing up at you with desire.

“You like that I’m dressed like a stripper?” You raised a brow questioningly while you ran your fingers through his short pink hair that matched your wig.

“I like you in anything.” He slid his hands up higher til his thumbs rest just below the band of your bra. “You look so pretty.”

“I love the new hair,” you giggled, caressing his handsome face. “Yunho colored it for you?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, leaning his head into your abdomen.

“I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

“Take me with you next time…or San or Yeosang.” He murmured, voice soft as you held him to you. “I’ll rest easier knowing one of us is with you.”

“I can handle myself. You know that.”

Mingi groaned a little before guiding you to sit on his lap, your pretty legs straddling his waist while his hands supported and cradled your back.

“I know…” he sighed.

The two of you were now face to face. Mingi looked into your eyes, searching them. For what, you didn’t know but you let him. “But you’ll let me take care of you…” he cupped your face gently, his thumb caressing your cheekbone and like a cat, you leaned into his touch, eyes closing as you relished his warmth. “Right?” His thumb swiped over your lower lip, your eyes fluttering open as he parted them just a little.

Despite his reputation, he was your gentle and loving Mingi. Sure, he was rough around the edges and appeared domineering. No one flies a fighter jet like he does and as the gunner and the best marksman among the crew, he was intimidating. But he gave himself to you and you did the same.

“Always.”

This was what he missed. The intimacy that he shared with you. That sweet loving gaze—

Mingi felt a sudden shock of heat pass through him. In less than two seconds your loving gaze intensified to desire and your lips were wrapped around his thumb, enveloping his digit in your mouth. The cherry on top for him was how you swirled your hot tongue and sucked lightly. You pulled back with a cute little quiet pop and looked at him with eyes that were far too innocent after what you just did. Licking his lips, he gripped your face, gently but strong enough the way you liked and to establish dominance.

This was also something he missed.

“If my pretty girl wants to be naughty…” he leaned in closer, the cute challenging look in your eyes unwavering. “I’m going to have to remind her how to behave.”

“But I am a good girl.” You shrugged him off of you so that you could press your lips on his defined jaw. “I told you, I never let anyone touch me.”

“You let Wooyoung touch you.” His hands rested on your hips now as you left gentle kisses along the skin of his neck, appeasing to him.

“So? It’s not like I’ll let him fuck me.” You nipped at his neck, tone sweet and unfortunately too bratty.

Next thing you knew, his ringed hand wrapped around your throat. It wasn’t in anyway to hurt you, Mingi would never. No. It’s how you two played sometimes. His hold on you made heat stir in your lower abdomen and his intense gaze was getting you excited.

“Of course you won’t.” He spoke, voice deep and low, and with his other hand on your hip, he guided you to drag your clothed cunt over the bulge of his trousers. Seeing your determined gaze crack with the friction, he grinned. “You won’t let him fuck you. You know why?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hold back your whimpers, a little embarrassed that your resolve was so quick to crumble because of him but you knew that turned him on.

“Use your words, baby.” He squeezed your neck gently while his other hand stilled your hips, making you huff at the pause.

“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your hips yourself, mouth watering at the thought of his member hidden beneath his pants.

Mingi tapped your hip in warning. You stilled and you did your best to glare at him. “Why?”

“He hasn’t earned it, baby.” His hand left your neck, trailing down to briefly brush the dip between your collarbones and he leaned to kiss your chest. “He hasn’t earned it like we had.”

“Is that why you were gatekeeping me?”

“Maybe.” You felt him grin on your skin as he kissed what was exposed of your breasts in your bralette. “Get up.”

You almost whined, not wanting to leave his lap or his kisses to stop but you did so anyway.

It’s like you were back to square one, standing between his legs while he gazed at you except you couldn’t stop glancing at the bulge in his trousers.

He clicked his tongue. “Is that what you want, baby?”

Instead of answering him, which could get you into some fun trouble, you slowly got on your knees without breaking his gaze. You slid your hands up his muscular thick thighs, knowing to not touch where you wanted to touch him the most.

Mingi noticed this and smiled. “Good girl.” He cooed, tucking the strands of your pink wig behind your ear. “You remember. Go on then.”

Getting his permission, your fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, prying the fabric apart to reveal his erection in the confines of his briefs. You skimmed your fingers along the waistband, admiring his toned abdomen before tugging it low enough til his cock sprung free.

Without wasting another moment, you wrapped your hand around his length, feeling your walls pulse around nothing at how hot and heavy he was in your hand. His tip was pink and growing slick with precum. You licked your lips at the sight and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

Mingi groaned lowly when you slowly pumped his length, kissing the hot and pink tip before enveloping the head of his cock in your mouth.

“Fuck.” He hissed. The sight of your glossed lips wrapped around him and the sensation of your wet tongue swirling his tip was sinfully perfect. “You look so pretty right now, baby.”

Oh how you loved how deep his voice was when he talked dirty. “God, I’m so lucky I get to fuck you first.”

He threw his head back as you took him deeper in your mouth, your struggle to take more of him something he always found so cute.

As much as you loved to blow your boyfriend, he was always a challenge to take. He was thicker than and longer than your other lovers. Well, Yunho was also a challenge but you were focused on Mingi right now and he was another story.

Your brows were knitted and your eyes were looking at him pleadingly as you did your best to bob your head along his length, sucking and swirling your tongue the way he liked while using your hand to pump what you couldn’t take of him. His taste and his low moans were making you ache even more, god you couldn’t wait for him to touch you.

“Shit, baby. You’re doing so well taking me in that pretty little mouth.” He praised, petting the top of your head lovingly. “C’mon baby. The quicker you make me cum the sooner I’ll be touching you. You’re getting wet aren’t you?”

Batting your lashes at him, you did your best to tell him yes while hollowing your cheeks and taking him a little more deeper, lost in his taste and his heat and fighting against your gag reflex. Your body was buzzing with need and when his tip reached the back of your throat, Mingi let out the prettiest moan.

The curse of silence that fell upon his room for months since you left was finally broken. Within the four walls, the not so quiet sound of your muffled moans and the obscene wet slurping of you sucking his cock bounced off them. You were taking your time, enjoying each glide of him against your flattened tongue and pumping the rest of his length in tandem with your movement.

Mingi through heavy lidded eyes searched for your gaze and he didn’t know if he regretted doing so because seeing your pretty eyes look up at him as you bobbed your head and suckled at his sensitive tip, he could’ve cum right then and there.

Lost in the sinfully indulgent pleasure, Mingi hadn’t noticed that his door was open just a crack, not fully closed. Even if he did notice, he wouldn’t care since it wouldn’t be the first time. Plus the rest of the crew weren’t strangers to being caught in the act with you. Most of the time they ignore it or tease each other about it after. And sometimes, it led to some…extra fun. But the man who recently settled into the room beside Mingi didn’t know that.

He was just on his way back from the showers since only two rooms had their own bathroom which was Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s.

He didn’t mean to look. He was just supposed to take his cold shower and then head to bed.

The sounds lured him in. And with his pent up sexual frustration he had only wanted to shut the stupid door fully and scold Mingi tomorrow about it…but when he saw the shade of pink that was haunting him, he just couldn’t function. Not when your head was bobbing up and down between Mingi’s spread thighs and how your back and ass looked so sexy while you were at it.

Wooyoung gulped, his own cock stirring at the lewd sight. He really should go.

And yet he continued to gawk at you, taking in the curve of your waist and the aesthetically pleasing view of your back. As if it couldn’t get any worse for Wooyoung, he noticed your free hand was between your thighs. Somehow in that dimly lit room he could see how you were working your fingers below you.

You moaned around Mingi’s length, the vibrations earning you a deep groan.

‘Fuck.’ Wooyoung swore over and over in his head, eyes unable to break from the way you were touching yourself. He wondered how wet you were. If your arousal soaked through the cotton of your underwear and if your fingers were easily gliding over your swollen clit.

Mingi, despite the dizziness of pleasure muddling his brain, finally noticed your hand between your thighs. “You getting wet by just sucking my cock, baby?”

Your lips released him with a pop and you were softly panting, trying to catch your breath. You nodded in response going at it again and this time, you were only using your mouth now and taking him deeper. Your hand other hand left your aching cunt only to rest atop his left thigh like your other hand on his right to keep you steady.

“Shit!” Mingi cursed, his hand coming to the back of your head to guide you down further, feeling the pressure on the base of his spine as he watched you take whatever you could fit of him in your little mouth.

Wooyoung bit his lip to keep himself from making any noise but he could still feel his throat dry at the obscene sight. The sound of your muffled whines and moans was driving him crazy.

Mingi’s fingers tangled themselves in your pink wig, his hips bucking until he stilled, cock twitching in your mouth. Hot spurts of his release spilled down your throat, your eyes not breaking away from his face that was contorted in pure bliss.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” He whined.

Only his tip in your mouth, he felt you swallow his release. “Good fucking girl.” His grip on your wig loosened to pet you. You hummed at his words, batting your lashes up at him in the way that made his heart flutter before you released him from your mouth. “Open up, let me see.”

Mingi was down bad. Really bad.

He reached into his pocket to whip out his phone, swiping the screen to the camera app. With pink lip gloss smudged at the corners of your mouth, your wig a little messy and his perspective with you on your knees, gave the camera the perfect view of your cute face, your tits in your purple bralette and his inner thighs that framed you.

You parted your lips and stuck out your tongue a little, and Mingi bit his lip when he saw a little bit of his cum remained on your tongue.

“Fuck, you look so hot, baby.” He captured a couple of shots while you decided to extend his high and to also give him a couple more pics to take.

Giving him a cute smile, you kissed the head of his sensitive cock and heard the little digital tone of the record button in his cell. He hissed at the stimulation and yet he let you continue to ride out his orgasm, his thighs tensing then relaxing a bit as you licked along his length.

Mingi was going to use this for the next time you’re away which won’t be anytime soon but you know, just in case and also for bragging rights for getting to fuck you in your stripper costume.

“Will you return the favor, Min?” You asked him, your voice husky from taking his cock deep in your throat. “I showed you how good I am for you.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your cute tone. You knew he was going to show this to the others to make them jealous so you were putting on a show exclusively for Mingi that the others won’t be able to have.

“Tell me exactly what favor I have to return to my good girl. Hm?” He knew how shy you actually were when speaking about what you wanted in a little more detail and it was something that all of them found endearing. Even though you could be bold, when it came down to things in the bedroom, you were submissive. You were bratty which was in your nature most of the time and Mingi like three other members of the crew loved to tame and fuck the brat out of you.

With your head muddled with lust, you softly uttered out your response, unaware of how needy you sounded.

“I want you to taste me too.”

Wooyoung palmed himself through his sweats. He wanted to taste you. He’s been wanting to and thinking about it since he danced with you.

“Yeah? And then I’ll fuck your pretty little pussy. You want that?”

You nodded, suckling at his length.

“Take off your top, baby. Show them what they’re missing out on right now.”

Without anymore direction, you knew what to do. You slowly got up, his hand holding his phone following your movement and he captured the complete look one last time.

Your fingers pinched at the front clasps of your bra, Mingi’s eyes glued on you, watching you intently.

You unhooked it and without rushing, unveiled to him and the camera your bare breasts. From where Wooyoung stood, he couldn’t see the teasing reveal. It was frustrating. Especially when you slowly let the pretty bralette drop into a pile at your feet and he could only see your naked back.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Not wanting to get caught, he quietly retreated back into his room, shut the door and locked it. With his back against the cool surface, he freed his cock from his sweats and wrapped a hand around his length, cursing Mingi in his head for being so lucky. With each stroke, the man was forgotten and his head was filled with thoughts of you. He tightened his grip when he began to imagine himself in Mingi’s place.

Was he going to feel guilty about it later? Yes but fuck did he needed to jack off. He’ll regret it later.

…

You gripped the pillow beneath your head while the other was over your hand trying to muffle your voice as moans left you so embarrassingly easy. Mingi had one hand holding his phone your way while the other was splayed on your belly as his thumb massaged your clit and he thrusted into your tight heat.

Your panties were just pushed to the side while he stuffed you full with his thick length. He had slipped in so easily with how wet you were and you were creaming around his cock, the mess of it all and the obscene wet squelching making him fuck you harder.

“Mingi,” you panted, your core hot with pleasure and mind spinning from the delicious drag of his cock against your pulsing walls. “B-big. You’re so big.” You whined out, the pleasure close to making you cry.

“Yeah? But you can take me right? Look at you taking me so well. Fuck.”

You nodded at his words, unable to form anything coherent and not caring about the fact he was filming the mess you were making on his cock.

His praises only made your head spin further and when he tossed his phone to the side and was focused on fucking you, the tension in your lower belly grew tighter.

Mingi admired the way you looked before him, tits bouncing with each snap of his hips and your legs around him while the garter where money bills had been clipped to earlier remained on your thigh and the gorgeous, perfect sight of your pussy lips parted to accommodate his cock that stretched you out. All of that was consuming him. He missed how you felt, how smooth and warm your skin was, and how his name left your lips in moans and sweet sighs.

The wet smacking of his hips against yours and both of yours and his moans filled the room, and unfortunately for Wooyoung, he could hear you both despite it being muffled. Well he could hear because he had opened his door a little and the two of you were too preoccupied to take note of how Mingi’s door wasn’t shut fully. He was fucking his cock into his fist to the sound of you both.

Your arms reached out for Mingi and his heart melted at the sight. He leaned forward letting them wrap around him and your legs did the same with his hips. He crashed his plump lips against yours, swallowing your moans and cries, feeling your walls tighten further around him telling him you were close. He was close too.

He felt your nails dig into the muscles of his back and he groaned at the sweet pain, his hand between the two of you applying more pressure to your clit which pushed you to the edge. Walls tightening around him which hindered his fast thrusts, he let you feel your orgasm and god, did he love it when you came around him. Your velvety walls spasmed around his cock and he could feel it, and your thighs shook from the sudden wave of release.

“That’s my good girl. That’s it. Cum around my cock. Good girl.” He rasped against your ear before kissing your neck and slowly beginning to move his hips again.

“M-Min— wait,” you whimpered, sensitive and body electric.

“I’m close baby. You’ll let me finish too right? Inside?”

The idea made you moan softly and cave. “O-okay.” You managed to get out, the overstimulation so good and too much at the same time.

You gasped when he sped up, chasing his release. He was groaning and panting against your neck like a dog in heat. Your fingers threaded through his hair, gripping the short strands as you felt your second orgasm building up again.

“I love you.” He murmured against your neck, rutting into you. You held him closer. “I love you. I love you. I love you…”He chanted over and over, completely loss in you. You missed those words from him and you weren’t sure if you were tearing up from the pleasure or how much you loved him too. Maybe both.

“I love you too Mingi.” You managed to say as your body bounced with each thrust and you gripped his hair tighter, the heels of your feet digging into lower back.

“Fuck!” Mingi snapped his hips one last time before completely stilling, shooting his hot cum into your womb. The sensation of him filling you up made you cum again so quickly and Mingi hissed at the sinful feeling of your walls fluttering around him again, milking his cock for all he’s worth, and what couldn’t fit in your womb began to leak out of you.

“I love you,” he sighed again, lifting his head from your neck to press his lips on yours messily and you kiss him back, both of you coming down from your highs. “Never leave me again, please.”

That tugged at your heart strongly.

Many believed it was San who was the clingiest among all them but in truth, it was Mingi. It didn’t look like it with his tough, bad boy coded exterior and how brutal he could be when he was armed but it was him who you trusted and opened up to first when you joined them.

“Even if you can’t, just say you will.”

And then your heart was ripped out your chest and in his hands.

“I won’t leave,” you told him, kissing his lips and cupping his face in your hands. “I promise.”

“This was the longest you were away.”

“I know…I’m sorry but I’m here now. I won’t be going anywhere. Okay?”

He nodded, sliding his hands under you, cradling your back so he could move the both of you to a comfortable position. Without untangling from each other’s embrace, he lied on his back with you on top him, your chest pressed against his and his arms wrapped around you.

In the room next to Mingi’s, Wooyoung’s head was thrown back as he came down from his own high. His release dripped down his hand and stained the fabric of his shirt.

While the two lovers on the other side laid in each others loving embrace, he was all alone on the floor with his back against the foot of his bed after having imagined fucking you and wishing his cum was on your body instead.

“Shit…” he cursed to himself , realizing what he had just done.

The guilt was gonna eat him up after and he may not be able to look you or Mingi in the eyes tomorrow after what he did.

Did he still want to fuck you? Yes. But he’ll keep that fact to himself and only himself. No one needed to know. It’ll pass anyways. Maybe a couple more times jerking off to you will make him get over it.

Yunho stretched his back on the way back to the crews deck, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were looking over the data you had gotten for them and he had just finished some touches to his and Wooyoung’s weapon reparations for Mingi.

Before heading to his room, he decided to check on the said man who had always come back with his, Jongho’s and Wooyoung’s weapons damaged every single time he was sent on the field.

“Fuck,” he heard Mingi’s faint voice at the start of the corridor.

He sighed as he removed his gloves, heading to Mingi’s room, his brow rising as he saw the door slightly open. He glanced at Wooyoung’s closed door and shook his head a little before stepping inside Mingi’s room and finally closing the door behind him.

He leaned against metal, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Mingi naked in all his glory fuck into you from behind. Your moans and whimpers were muffled as you bit at the pillow. Mingi’s hands were on your hips and his hold on you was the only reason your ass was still up. Your thighs were shaking and trembling with each thrust as the new angle made you feel him deeper inside of you.

Yunho bit his lip watching the two of you and glanced over at Mingi’s desk where his blazer was then at the mirror where he could see you face down and ass up with a your back beautifully curved as Mingi fucked you.

He began to unbutton his shirt.

“Next time, make sure you close the door properly. I could hear you from the corridor.” Yunho finally spoke but his presence didn’t stop Mingi’s rhythmic thrusts.

“It wasn’t closed?” He grunted, a hand pressing against your upper back to keep you down.

“It wasn’t wide open but if I was Wooyoung, I would be suffering.” Yunho threw his gloves onto the desk. “Hi, sweetheart.” He went to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed and speaking as if you weren’t being railed from behind.

He caressed the crown of your head, noticing the mascara smudged around your eyes in a pretty way. Yunho also noticed Mingi’s cell nearby on the bed and rolled his eyes, knowing exactly why it was there.

He’ll ask Mingi for a copy later.

“How many times has he made you cum?” He asked you, thumb wiping away the smudged makeup.

“Ah—f-fo—,” you gasped, clutching the pillow tigther . “Four.” It was cute how you couldn’t really speak properly.

“Four times ?” Yunho was impressed, you nodded quickly. “How many times has he said I love you?”

“Shut up, man.” Mingi huffed, knowing he was going to get teased for that.

Yunho raised his hands in surrender, he wasn’t here for that anyways.

He looked at Mingi. The marksman’s brows were knitted together and he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and below where you two were connected was a darkened spot on the sheets. A mess caused by both yours and Mingi’s release, well mostly Mingi’s as your pussy was leaking white from being filled to the brim.

“I know you wanted her for yourself tonight but…” Yunho slipped his hand into yours, and you held his hand tight as you moaned into the pillow.

“Got room for one more?”

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[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 9)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 5776

A/N: At the end! No spoilers here, but it's a long one so get cosy.

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 9, Next Chapter

Christmas morning began like every year except for the owl. When you made it downstairs there was an owl under the tree from Remus, you picked up the letter and thanked the owl giving it a treat before sending it home. You hadn't heard from Remus since you got home, however you couldn't be upset as you didn't attempt to write to him either. Even though you missed him a lot and you couldn't stop thinking about him life had become quite busy with work, family and your hometown friends. This was the first time you came home and didn't want to flirt with any one or meet anyone as the only person who got your heart to race was Remus. Since you first opened his present you kept re-reading what he wrote, as if you were trying to decipher it. Maybe it was him calling you "dear" and ending it with "yours" that made your heart race, maybe it was simply just the only way to feel close to him. "What's that letter honey?" Your mum asked walking out the kitchen to see you standing holding Remus's most recent letter.

"It's from my friend, I think it's just to thank for the Christmas present I got him."

"Him?" Your mother asked. "I knew those were for a boy she liked!" Your dad chimed in from the sofa. "So who's he?" Your mum asked.

That's when the doubts hit you, you shouldn't get excited by Remus sending you a letter, he's the kind of man you can't tell your parents about. How would you explain to your parents that you got involved with your defence against the dark arts professor and that he's also a werewolf. "Just a friend who's helped me a lot this year. Anybody want coffee?" You asked tucking Remus's letter into your jeans pocket and changing the subject.

When you had a moment after the busy morning you went upstairs to finally open Remus's letter that had occupied your mind all morning. You slowly opened it while sipping on a cup of tea that wasn't as tasty as the ones made by Remus in his office.

"My dearest Y/N,

Merry Christmas. Would it be inappropriate to say smoking or listening to music alone isn't the same? Thank you so much for your present, I've been listening to the vinyl from you on repeat I can't wait to listen to it with you. I hope work is good and your family is well too. Hogwarts is beautiful in the snow I'm glad I stayed but I'll be heading home to York soon - today - so if you would like to reach me please write to:

The Luna Cottage Yorkshire YO22 5AN

No pressure to write however if you do I just don't want you to feel like I'm ignoring your letters.

Yours, as always, Remus"

You wished the letter was longer, that he would tell you more about what he's been doing why he didn't write. You wanted to have a conversation about his day, you decided it was only right to reply to him straight away.

"Moony, Merry Christmas!

I am starting to realise my record collection is boring compared to yours. I'm glad you enjoyed the present, thank you so much for passing on your fathers book, I'm happy to return it to you as soon as I read it as it sounds quite sentimental.

I adore the cigarette tin, I would be lying if I said it hasn't already been useful. The camel and bridge are beautiful however I miss the real bridge.

I'm glad to hear you're enjoying Christmas, don't run to your cottage too quickly enjoy your time in Hogwarts although I do realise how stupid it is to write that as I'm sending it to your cottage.

My family is well and so am I thank you for asking, I do miss the snow in Hogwarts I look forward to coming back after new years.

Speak soon, Y/n"

You sent the letter almost as soon as you wrote it eager to continue this conversation with Remus. You could wait to read his next letter. However it did not arrive for days. Maybe he stayed in Hogwarts you thought, maybe he hasn't had time to send you one, maybe he's too busy...

You waited each day for a letter to arrive but nothing came, New Year's Eve was around the corner and you thought wether to wish him happy new year like you wished him Merry Christmas however you decided against it. The Weasleys had invited you to a New Year's party and you considered not going however you decided maybe it would be good to spent an evening with your school friends as opposed to the home town friends that you saw all Christmas break. The party wasn't at their house but rather a house in London however they assured you pre-drinks will be spent together. You met at their house where you would be spending the night after the party, it was nice to see their parents who always made you feel at home. They asked you many questions about your Christmas break and Molly even gave you a new hand knitted scarf as a gift. You hadn't arrived at their house empty handed either as you had a whole tray of home made cookies from your mum which the Weasley boys devoured. "So what's this party we're going to?" You asked the twins.

"It's one of the order parties but it should be fun." Fred began.

"And if we hate it, it's in central London so we can jump ship." George added.

"And we'll still see the muggle fireworks from there." Fred finished their joint sentence.

"But isn't everyone in the order like 50 now, I want a new years kiss." You complained

"I'm here." George quickly interrupted.

"I'm the hotter twin and I'm here too." Fred took over.

"See you have two options!"George said with a laugh.

"Three we all know dear Percy would kill for a kiss from you." Fred almost whispered so no one else in the family would hear.

"I don't want to kiss him, or you, or you." You said laughing and pushing them away in a friendly way.

"No you want to kiss your teacher." They both said simultaneously making your face go red.

"Shut up. I prefer people my age."

"Don't lie to us the only person our age you want to snog is Sebastian and he's mostly a rebound for your profesor."

"What did you get him for Christmas?"

"It doesn't matter besides he hasn't spoken to me since Christmas."

"But he wrote to you."

"Just to thank me."

"He still thought of you."

"We've gone off topic so who's gonna be at this party or did I waste my new years by agreeing to this?" You bought the conversation back.

"We promise there will be people you'll want to kiss there, you'll have fun."

"We're sure of it."

"Only thing...."

"'Mum is coming."

"WHAT? This is going to be so lame, a party with your parents?"

"Don't worry, we'll still have fun." He said handing you a shot to drink and all three of you necked it down. You got changed and ready to go out, suddenly you were all looking a lot more like you were going to party, the boys wolf whistled you when you joined them in the living room. By this point nearly the whole family was downstairs including Hermione who was also invited as Harry and Ron were going. When you walked into the room Percy's face seemed to go red, you felt bad as you knew his feelings for you but you just simply didn't feel the same about him. You relaxed in the living room for a bit before all of you traveled to the house the party was taking place at.

It was 12 Grimmauld Place. The home of the Blacks. Sirius Black was the only one left living there however he used the house to throw very extravagant parties, that's what Percy told you anyway. When you arrived it was quite littered with people already, and there was a mix of people older and younger, you spent time with the twins at first as you were a bit shy to start talking to so many strangers. As soon as the alcohol started to get to your head you became a lot more social with everyone around, one of your most interesting conversations was with the host Sirius Black who you clicked with immediately, you ended up in quite a discussion about the London firework display and he promised you could go up to the roof for the fireworks at midnight. You were quite enjoying yourself when you noticed Sirius hugging a man who was apologising for arriving late, he was taking his jacket off when you caught a glimpse of him. Remus J Lupin. He was wearing corduroy trousers, a nice clean fresh Oxford shirt that was a pale blue with a dark vest over it and a long black trench coat. You felt the temperature of the room go up and you needed a distraction so you jumped into a conversation with the twins. "Our teacher is here." You stated to them.

"Your teacher more like." Fred stated with a grin on his face as him and George shared a look.

"You knew." You pointed a finger at them both.

"He's in the order." George explained.

"Close friends with Black. And our parents." Fred finished.

"We didn't know for sure if he would come." They both said in response to your upset face.

"He hasn't replied to my letter." You said quietly.

"Well now you can talk in person." Fred said. You could see Remus but he wasn't looking at you, he was happy, he looked a bit tired but not more than usual, he seemed in his element hugging people hello and chatting with them. After about twenty minutes you both noticed each other he gave you a slight wave from across the room and you waved back while speaking to Hermione. The next hour and a half you spent stealing glances at each other from across the room but not talking even when you stood right next to each other, it felt like an unspoken rule. It was hurting you to watch him talk to an attractive girl from the order and laugh with her, a whole body laugh. You felt jealous, and upset that he didn't even acknowledge you past a small wave.

It was only when you were outside having a smoke with Fred that you finally spoke to Lupin. He was the one who started the conversation, you heard him say "No, no, no. I can't believe that you haven't heard of The Stooges, hold on, Y/N have you heard of the Stooges" he interrupted your conversation but you didn't mind.

"Of course, arguably they were the first punk rock band." You said with a small smile, eyeing the girl he was taking to in a judgmental way.

"Thank you!" Remus said to everyone before turning around to face you. "Hello by the way." He has a gently smile.

"Hi professor, I saw you earlier but didn't want to interrupt." You said hugging him hello, he already smelt like he's drank quite a bit as did you.

"You should've." He said gently in a hush tone, eyes quickly flicking down to your lips then back to your eyes, his breath really smelt like fire whiskey.

"You look nice." You replied.

"I was going to say the same about you." The small smile growing on his lips as his eyes scanned your body.

"Who are you so dressed up for?" You pried hoping the answer doesn't hurt you.

"Sirius." He said in a stern tone and continued once he saw the puzzled look on your face. "He said he was going to hex me if I showed up in the same clothes I wear every day. I don't know if you've met him yet but I believe he genuinely would have."

"I have and I agree, I think you're a wise man." You said with a laugh.

"How was Christmas?" He asked changing the topic.

"You know same, same. Spent most of the time working. What about yours?" You said putting your hands in your pockets awkwardly. When you spoke to him it's like the whole world blurred, like no one else was around you even through your were standing outside the house on a street in central London.

"Christ Y/N, I'm sorry I didn't write back." He simply answered.

"It's okay, I'm sure you were busy." You said hiding your disappointment.

"No, no I wasn't." He said with his own frown on his face. "After Christmas there was a full moon and I was knackered, once I regained energy I had so much to do and I didn't dedicate time to writing back, when I could've, I should've and I'm so sorry." He was leaning on the wall for support as if his guilt was weighing him down.

"How's the cottage?"

"It's cosy, I've been fixing things in it, Hogwarts has meant it stands empty with no one looking after it, so things have broken in my absence." He explained.

"I wish you had time to write while you were there, I had so many questions." You said instead of saying you missed him.

"Have you seen Sebastian Sallow over half term?"

"What?" You shot back in confusion.

"Just wandering as you two are close."

"Not that close." You felt weird about his question, his facial expression was hard to read.

"Fair enough." He replied after a moment of awkward silence.

"Why do you ask?" You pushed.

"Because I thought you two were slowly growing into a relationship, you know I just want the best for you."  He didn't make eye contact with you.

"What's the best for me?" You questioned.

"It's not me." He said with an intense stare into your eyes.

"So you don't want me to be with you?" You asked swallowing hard from the anxiety.

"Correct." He answered his body inching closer to you.

"But do you want to be with me?" He looked down at his empty glass after you asked him this.

"What was work like?" He asked changing the topic.

"Answer my question." You pushed.

"Answer mine."

"I asked first."

"Y/N... let's change the subject before one of us gets hurt, let's not ruin new years." He said sounding defeated as he finished the sentence you heard the front door open and saw Sirius there with two drinks in his hand.

"Remus! There you are, I made you a drink." He said in a jolly voice. "Y/N, do you want one too?" He said while handing a drink to Remus.

"It's fine I can go get it myself." You said finishing this the perfect opportunity to leave this conversation with Remus.

"Beautiful, let me show you the main reason why being a magic is the greatest thing ever." Sirius said clicking his fingers and your glass refilled itself. Remus just laughed as if this was an old trick.

"How?" You asked in shock.

"Dear old Sirius has enchanted all the glass to be self re-filling because he's too lazy to stand up and pour himself a drink."

"I didn't know this was possible." You expressed.

"It's a dangerous trick." Remus explained.

"As if you don't love it Moony." Sirius said and you have a puzzled look to the nickname but didn't ask more questions. "Now it looks like you two were having a meaningful chat I don't mean to interrupt."

"You're not, I was just about to head inside." You said.

"Sure you were." Sirius said with a wink. "Enjoy the drink moony, let me know how it tastes later!" Sirius said with a wink at Remus and head tilting to you before he left, luckily for Remus you didn't see this. A moment of silence fell upon both of you again before Remus cleared his throat. "You know all the glasses in my office have this enchantment." He said sitting down on the front door steps.

"Liar, why do you always stand up and make cups of tea if they can refill themselves?"

"I find there's something romantic about doing things the proper way, taking a moment to brew a tea and pour it. It feels like it's the right way to do it. When I'm alone I don't bother to do all the mundane but I like to do it with you." He took last sip of the cocktail he managed to already finish and you watched it magically refill itself.

"So I'm guessing you and Sirius are close?" You asked.

"How'd you guess?"

"He called you moony."

"He's my best friend from school, there's not many of us left after the war." Remus began.

"What do you mean us?"

"My friends from school and I used to call ourselves the Marauders."

"That's so lame." You laughed and he had a nostalgic smile on his face.

"I know. But we were proud of it, we were unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. We used to preform some pranks that created new rules in Hogwarts."

"Not that pillar of morality I thought you were Professor." You winked at him and he laughed.

"Maybe not." His eyes were glued to your lips.

"So what happened?" You asked and his eyes went down to the floor, he cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

"We all grew up but not all of us got to grow old. You see straight after school James and Lilly got married, it was a beautiful day. Not long after Harry was born, we felt like we were on top of the world when we were leaving Hogwarts. But the wizarding war kept getting worse, I struggled for work with my condition so I focused mainly on the order, James and Sirius helped me a lot especially with money, I wouldn't have a home without them. We spent most of our days as part of the Order of the Phoenix, and we were proud, we felt like our little group was part of something special. Then the day when Peter betrayed James and Lilly came, and well you know how the story of that day goes." He said his voice breaking a bit a small tear forming in his eye. "After that day the world rejoiced, war was over, he was gone, but he took James and Lilly with them. Peter, the snitch, sold them out. It was just Sirius and I left." You placed you hand on his knee to comfort him.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's okay. I was hurt that day and I was stupid, I distanced myself from Sirius, and from everyone. I saw the world as cruel, I really treated myself like a victim, felt sorry for myself. Sirius, he saved me. Every full moon he would come to the cottage and make sure I was okay, it was only after a year that I found out when he fell asleep and when I was back to my human form he was still around. He explained he'd come in secret every month just to check in on me. He made me realise the world wasn't so cruel after all." Remus glanced back at the house behind him.

You got a glimpse at a new part of Remus, the Remus who lost friends, the Remus who used to be a boy surrounded by everyone he loved, and you understood why now being in Hogwarts he was so much more lonely than ever before. "It's funny when I met you it felt like meeting the marauders for the first time. If only you were around when I was your age, I think I would've- doesn't matter. I'm sorry for dropping my sob story on you like that." Remus said with a heavy breath.

"Moony I love to hear about your past, Sirius sounds very special... I'm glad you have him."

"I love that boy." He said honestly. "He's my brother for life." He said looking back at the house once again. A calm quiet fell upon you both before you took your cigarette tin out of your pocket, you offered one to Remus and he took it "nice tin." He said with a wink. "Where'd you get it?" He asked while you tried to light your cigarette with your lighter, he lit his with magic obviously.

"This guy got me it, I really thought he liked me because it's so special but I realise now he's just kindhearted and cares about people. It's still one of my favourite gifts though."

"What says those are mutually exclusive?" He questioned while you struggled to light your cigarette as your lighter didn't want to work.

"Can you light it for me?" You asked him gently turning around to him.

"Sure, come here." He motioned for you to get closer to him. And you shifted towards him. "Closer." He instructed. You were confused but listened, you were now inches away from him, his cigarette was in his mouth and yours was in your hand. "Put it in your mouth." He said through the cigarette. "Now come here I'll light it for you." He said quietly. So you leaned in and he lit the cigarette with the one in his mouth, your body felt like it was burning, you could smell the alcohol, you could smell him. Chocolate, cigarettes and an undertone of firewood. He placed a hand on your face to stabilise you and you felt that your cigarette was lit. You pulled away from each other and you took a drag with a shaky breath after the moment you just shared.

You felt his hand grab your chin again and turn your face back to his, his cigarette wasn't in his mouth this time, he began to lean in. "Tell me if you want me to stop." He whispered and your heart raced as you leaned into him and your lips crashed. The kiss was full of lust and longing. He had completely dropped his cigarette as both his hands were now on your face, you dropped yours and raised your hands to touch him. You felt him swoop your whole body to the side and you were suddenly straddling him on the stairs of the house. You felt him, you felt how much he wanted you, you began to slowly grind on him to tease him. His hands began to go up and down your back as you continued to make out, your hands went through his hair, something you wanted to do for a very long time. And then you heard it, the fireworks.

Remus pulled away first, shaken back into reality, you both looked into each others eyes for a few seconds. Silence. The look of complete fear and lust in both your eyes as reality crashed back in. "Happy new year dear." He said quietly.

"Happy new year Moony." Your replied and he gently kissed you on the lips with love rather than lust this time. He slowly moved you off him and stood up, reaching out a hand towards you to help you stand up. "Let's head up to the roof, the view of the fireworks is beautiful up there." He said and you gave him a sad look.

"I'm happy to miss it." You almost whispered.

"We can't. Come on." He said reaching his hand out for you to hold and you followed him holding his hand while walking up the stairs and questioning which part he was referring to with "we can't". You headed back inside and as you passed the mirrors on the stairs Remus fixed his hair, he let go of your hand and you walked side by side upstairs entering the roof quietly. Once upstairs he squeezed your shoulder and walked away from you, he started making the rounds while telling people happy new year starting from some members of the order, moving onto the Weasleys and so on. You just stood there watching him. "Happy new year Y/N. We were looking for you." Fred said. "Are you okay?" He said looking at your confused expression.

"I just kissed our teacher." You said quietly. And Fred laughed and George groaned. "Pay up." Fred said to George and they exchanged money.

"You guys bet on this? You bought me here and you bet on it?" You asked slightly annoyed but also amused.

"Only when I left you outside with him." Fred said defensively. "How do you feel?" George asked. "Relived?" Fred added.

"Horny and confused."

"Poor Percy was looking for you, wanted you to be his new years kiss, he won't be happy to find out." George added.

"No one can know." You said sternly.

"Y/N, your secret is safe with us." George said.

"However we will make fun of you for this." Fred stated.

"Constantly." George added.

"Looks Y/N is not paying attention to us." Fred pointed out as you were starring at Remus and Sirius whispering to each other and Sirius glancing over at you.

"We've lost her, next thing you know she'll be married, she won't speak to us. No time for us." Fred joked. As you continued to watch Remus, who now glanced at you, said bye to Sirius and began to walk over in your direction.

"He's coming over what should I do?" You asked in panic.

"You were the one snogging him, not us." They both said.

"Shut up." You replied and Remus was now close enough to hear. The boys turned around and smiled at him with big grins. "Happy new year professor." The both said.

"Happy new year." He replied gently. "Happy new year Y/N." He said to you pretending as if nothing happened.

"Wait so you didn't even say happy new year to each other?" Fred asked and both you and George slapped him to shut him up.

"I should've known. Sirius also knows." He said he's gesturing behind him to a smiling Sirius who waved at you as soon as you looked over at him.

"Obviously." You said with a gentle smile.

"Do you boys mind if I have a word with Y/N?" Remus asked politely.

"Just don't-" Fred began.

"Fred." You and George said in unison. "Alright nice to see you prof!" Fred said laughing and walking away.

Remus lead you off the roof and down the stairs towards one of the rooms. You didn't ask any questions. He pulled you into a room and you straight away began to make out. You explored each others lips before between kissed Remus began to speak "Let's get one thing straight, this can't happen." He then kissed you again and you tried to push out a "yes" between the kisses. "And no one can find out about this." You nodded and he leaned back in to continue. "And if anyone knew you could get expelled and I could lose my job."

"Yes professor."

"Don't. I go crazy when you call me that." He said biting your lip as he kissed you this time and moving his hands around your whole body. "Now tell me if you want me to leave this room and pretend nothing happened, tell me now and I'll leave and we'll go back to just being professional." He said looking deep into your eyes and you shook your head and leaned in to kiss him. "Good." He whispered before kissing you back, after a moment you moved your hands to his belt and began to unbuckle it. "Not so quickly my dear." He whispered in your ear. "What we're going to do is leave this room, you're going to be a good girl and mingle with your friends, while I make the rounds talking to mine. Then when it's late and everyone is saying goodbye you meet me. That way we don't raise any suspicion about both being gone all night." He explained and you nodded. "Good." He said and he kissed your lips gently before leaving the room. You stood in the dark room alone trying to process everything. After a moment you left the room and continued upstairs, on the stairs you a ran into Percy. "Y/N!" He said cheerfully. "Where have you been all evening?" He asked.

"Oh I've been floating around." You replied trying to keep it vague.

"I was searching for you." He stated.

"It's a big house." You simply replied.

"Why did you leave with professor Lupin after new years?"

"Why are you watching my every move?" You felt like your privacy was invaded.

"We're friends Y/N, I feel like this year you've been running around befriending Slytherins and doing tutoring every day we've barely seen each other." He complained.

"You're exaggerating, besides you're the one who always pushed for me to study more, now I am and you're complaining." You were getting annoyed.

"Are you and the Slytherin boy dating? Is that why you've been avoiding me?" He asked a bit too aggressively.

"Percy. Your jealousy is showing, please go home, go the bed, we'll talk tomorrow." You walked past him towards the roof, he tried to continue the conversation but you didn't turn around to reply.

Upstairs you saw Remus chatting to small group of people, he looked so handsome. You started getting involved in your own conversations however you couldn't resist to look over at Remus constantly, and he kept looking over at you. Each time he would smile, sometimes he'd lightly wink. When Molly and Arthur Weasley were leaving you and the twins said you'll come home later in the evening and they trusted you and left you behind. Finally there was very few people left behind and Remus approached you and the twins as you relaxed in the living room. "Sorry to interrupt." He began not taking his eyes off you as he scanned your body, licking his lips.

"Please do." Fred said with a grin.

"Excuse us profesor." George said pulling Fred away.

"Has anyone given you a tour of the house dear?" Remus asked you with his hands on his pockets while looking down towards you. You shook your head and he simply reached a hand out to you to help you up. He began giving you a tour from the bottom of the house towards upstairs, there were still people in the house but very few as it was nearing 4am and most people had traveled home by now. He led you all the way up before he stopped at a room. "And here is my room." He said.

"Your room?" You questioned.

"Well technically the guest room but since it's just Sirius who lives here this room has become my room, I stay here whenever I'm in London." It was mostly a simply decorated room but the small pile of books on the side table made it obvious that Remus stayed here often.

"What have you been reading?" You said picking up the top book as Remus came up behind you putting his arms around you and kissing your neck.

"Does it matter right now?" He whispered in your ear pulling you against him.

"I don't think so." You said as he turned you around to look at him.

"You drive me crazy girl." He leaned in to kiss you. "Do you want to know how crazy?" He asked and you nodded. That's when he grabbed your hand and put it against his crotch, you could feel how huge his cock was in that very moment. "Holy shit." You whispered as a genuine reaction not thinking about what's leaving your lips. Remus smiled and chuckled slightly. "Don't worry, I'll go slow." He whispered and you almost melted into his kiss. After a moment of kissing he gently pushed you against the wall where he pulled your top off and your trousers. He began kissing you from your neck down your body getting on his knees in front of you as he kissed your legs and bit your thong. "I have thought about this moment from the first time I met you. You're more beautiful than I imagined." He said before standing up and kissing you on the lips again and you ran your hands through his hair. He picked you up and lay you down on his bed as he climbed up above you leaning down and kissing you. You reached up to unbutton his shirt and he stopped your hands for a moment.

"I just want to warn you, I have scares." He said, his voice had a twang of anxiety behind it.

"I don't care." You breathed out.

"You don't understand they're bad, I can keep my shirt on."

"Remus don't be ridiculous." You said unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his chest, his scars were deep, layering on top of each other some older than others. You began to trace them with your finger as Remus watched your expression, you then leaned in to kiss his scars. He put a hand under your chin and went back to kiss you as he unbuckled his trousers slipping them off while keeping his lips on yours. He once again moved down to your underwear taking them off with his mouth as he kissed you all the way back up to your lips. "I'm going to go slow but if anything hurts tell me okay?" He confirmed and you nodded. "Dear I need you to use your words for me."

"Yes Professor." You said and it felt like his eyes darkened a little as he slowly slid into you. You could feel how large he was as began to slowly move in and out. As soon as he saw you feel comfortable he began to up the pass, kissing your neck and starting to suck and lick it as you moaned under him. "You're so beautiful." He whispered in your ear as he kissed you.

"Remus you feel amazing." You said as he picked up the pace and moaned in your ear. He held your hands above your head with one hand and kept himself up above you with the other. The kissing turned into bites with kisses as your hearts raced. "Remus I'm close." You moaned out as he was bitting your nipples and still holding your hands above your head. "I want to feel you cum for me." He said as he kissed your lips again and you moaned out in bliss. You felt him fill you right after. As soon as he pulled out he leaned in to kiss you and you kissed him back. "Happy new year." He whispered as he lay down next to you pulling you in your hug him, you skin touching his skin. "Happy new year Remus." You whispered back tracing his scars with your finger and closing your eyes as he lightly kissed the top of your head.

A/N: AHHHHHH finally! Now I can tell you this chapter was the idea that sparked everything, it was the idea of them sitting on those bloody steps and him lighting her cigarette with his own that made me want to write all this. Don't worry it's not over yet, we're only just beginning the story I hope you carry on reading a lot as there's loads more to come as they navigate this situation. Hope you like it!

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[thebiggerbear]

Off Limits

Summary: When Reenie sends you to assist Colter with whatever he needs after getting arrested for breaking into a morgue in Virginia, you meet his older brother Russell for the first time. There's some flirting and definitely a mutual attraction there before you Colter sends you off. Little do you know at the time that Colter has warned Russell that you're off limits and that Russell has no intention of listening to said warning.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x Female!PI!Reader

A/N: So I've had this idea in my head since I first saw the episode (and that whole food truck scene) and finally sat down to start writing it May 19th, the day we were all hoping Russell would return for 1x13 (no spoilers). I did change up the ending of 1x12 a little here. By the way, I love Colter and I'm only a few episodes into the season but he kind of gives a little fuckboi vibe to me (meant affectionately of course) so I decided to kind of play on that a little here. Not that Russell also doesn't seem to have that vibe here a little bit. (again, meant as affectionate) 😉 I may write a follow up to this to fill in/shade in more areas mentioned in here.

Anyways, this was a lot of fun to write and try to practice ratcheting up the UST a little between two characters. I'm not sure if I succeeded but it was still fun to try. 🥵

All unbeta'd.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in any future Russell or Tracker works.

Song while writing: Coming For You - Nuela Charles (you can probably guess what scene I was envisioning/writing with this one 🤷‍♀️)

Warnings: sexual tension; flirting; a little smut; language

Word Count: 9357

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You pulled up to the area where two food trucks sat and tables were scattered throughout the center of it all. You quickly recognized Colter sitting there, eating, talking to someone sitting across from him. You softly groaned at the incessant pounding in your head, tenderly rubbing your forehead. Why had Reenie charged you with this? True, you owed her a favor (or four) but still, getting on a plane with only thirty minutes notice, no time to pack an overnight bag, and her insistence that you go and assist Colter with whatever he needed was a bit much. Even for her. 

But here you were, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, your hair up in a messy ponytail after you quickly combed your fingers through it, and feeling scuzzy after a long night spent on planes. That’s right. Planes as in plural. Reenie hadn’t even sprung for a non-connecting flight, though she’d tried to chalk it up to none of those being available when she’d booked the trip for you ASAFP. You’d been stuck in coach the entire time, which was fine (you were more than used to it) but you’d had the middle seat and then the aisle seat — both seating arrangements were pure hell. Needless to say, you may have indulged at the airport bar in between flights and ordered drinks while on both, putting it on your business card that you immediately wrote off as travel expenses in your head. Especially when one of the guys you were sitting next to (who thought he was the next young Robert DeNiro apparently) was intent on making conversation, filling you in on his romantic and sexual history (relayed through a ton of bad implied jokes of course), as if he thought that would be a selling point for you to immediately want to induct him into the mile high club (there was no way he was a member despite his many stories hinting to the contrary). No thank you. Not ever.

Thankfully, you were able to pick up some essentials when you finally arrived at your destination and used the airport bathrooms for a little clean up before grabbing a rental car. You still felt gross and in need of a shower, but you’d manage until you did what you came here to do and then your time would be your own again. You were sure you’d get a shower and a change of clothes somewhere in between there. 

So while the alcohol helped to ease the tension your sudden trip created, you were badly hungover. Yep, sadly you were at that age where if you even looked at a drink, you’d get a headache the next day. So while you had maintained a nice buzz, you were now paying for it. You took a deep breath, slipped on your sunglasses, and got out of the car. 

Colter saw you coming, surprise fleeting across his expression, before turning his full attention on you when you sat down next to him. “Oof. Rough night?”

Your answer was to flip him the bird which made him chuckle. You then yanked out the folder of files Reenie had thrown into a travel case for you and slapped it all down next to him. “There. Directly from Reenie. With my compliments. Not that I don’t have my own cases to work,” you finished in a mumble. You snatched his coffee, ignoring his frown, and took a deep gulp. You made an immediate face. “Ugh. How do you still drink this shit?”

“It’s coffee,” he informed you as he began peeking at the files.

“I know. How do you not put anything in it? Do you like the taste of bitter ass first thing in the morning? Wait, don’t answer that.” You slipped out an airplane shot you had snuck into your jacket pocket that you swiped from the drink cart as it passed by during your aisle seat fun, beyond desperate to ignore the chatty Cathy next to you (her name had literally been Cathy as you’d found out against your will). You immediately lifted the lid and dumped in the contents, picking up a fry from Colter’s plate and using that to stir things around quickly before tossing it in the grass behind you. You ignored the “hey!” sounding not too far from where the fry had most likely landed and took a generous sip of the warm liquid, nearly heaving a sigh of satisfaction as it settled into your stomach. Not exactly the hair of the dog but it would do for now.

Colter was shaking his head, watching you, and you immaturely stuck your tongue out at him, about to tell him to blow you when you heard a chuckle across the table. You turned to see the guy Colter had been talking to grinning over at you, amusement clear as day on his face. You lowered your glasses slightly and took in his features, noting his obvious attractiveness, and you would be loathe to admit that you wouldn’t mind meeting him in an airplane bathroom had he been the one sitting next to you on that ghastly flight. Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, his smile grew and those green eyes lit up in a way that was all too familiar to you, and also had you wondering if there were any public bathrooms around here that you could slip away to for a bit. After the long night you’d had, an orgasm or two might just be what the doctor ordered. 

You pushed your glasses back into position and gave him a smile right back. “And who’s this?”

Before Colter could answer, the man stuck out a hand towards you. “Russell Shaw, Colter’s older brother.”

Your smile dropped as your hopes were immediately dashed. Fuck. Not only was he hot in a very rugged type of way (right up your alley actually not that you’d ever admit that out loud) but he seemed like he would’ve been game for what you were up for, too. Dammit. You forced yourself to shake his hand and not be rude, all the while trying your best not to think about what those hands could do or how that rough, warm skin would feel like against yours. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

The light in his eyes burned brighter. “Y/N. That is a beautiful name.” 

You couldn’t contain the eye roll at the obviously bad pickup line. Perhaps it was best that he was Colter’s brother. Not that you would’ve been doing much talking if he wasn’t, so his flirting skills wouldn’t have mattered. “So I’ve heard.” You cut that off at the knees. “Russell Shaw,” you drew out his name, remembering something Reenie had mentioned before you went through airport security. You yanked out another folder from your case, slapping it down in front of him. “Reenie insisted that I give you this and told me to tell you that you owe her quite a bit for taking care of those fines from Fish & Wildlife and something about a donkey in Tuscaloosa?” You glanced up at him in question. 

He chuckled, sounding nervous, and gave you a reassuring smile. “That’s not— The donkey thing was a misunderstanding.”

Right. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“No, really. We ran into a situation and we tried to free him when these cops saw us and—”

You held up a hand. “I really don’t need the details. It’s fine. But Reenie did say you should Venmo her.”

He pressed his lips together and dropped his gaze to the papers, nodding. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.” You studied him as he studied the paperwork and despite the suspicious donkey thing and your decision to already back off, you kind of wished he would get right on you. 

You heard a throat clearing next to you and turned to find Colter glancing between you, that frown on his face again. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes once more. Whatever, Colter had no business looking like that. He’d had his chance and he’d fucked it up, royally. Instead of giving that pretend jealousy shit the time of day, you snatched a few more fries off of his plate and glanced back and forth between the two men as you chewed. “You two look nothing alike, by the way.”

“He should be so lucky,” Russell teased his brother before turning that smile back on you. You almost wished you hadn’t indulged in an all night booze fest and had a fresh change of clothes. You must look like a wreck right now, more than what you’d seen in the rearview mirror earlier, and you probably smelled like one, too. Desperately trying to tamp down the images popping into your brain of this man underneath you and those hands of his gripping onto your hips, you stole more fries from the plate near you.

“Seriously, Y/N, why don’t you just go get your own food? The trucks are right there.” Colter hated it when you did this which is exactly why you did it. 

You arched a brow over at him as you chewed. “You buying?” When he didn’t answer fast enough, you snatched even more fries from him. “Didn’t think so.”

“I am,” Russell interjected, smirking over at you. “Just tell me what you’d like and I’d be more than happy to get it for you.”

His voice deepened on that last part and it made parts of you clench. You bet he would. Why the fuck did Colter have to have a brother? And why did it have to be this guy who was watching you like the Big Bad Wolf, looking like he would gobble you up the second you’d let him? Who had a roguish grin to match? Besides, based on what Reenie had said during your quick interlude at the airport, Colter’s brother had been hitting on her big time. She had warned you to tread carefully due to his connection to this case Colter was looking into. That his brother might try to charm his way into peeking at the files for his brother that you were carrying among other things, but this information was meant to go strictly into Colter’s hands. You were almost insulted at her implying that you weren’t a damn professional and that you were so easily led by your libido (it had been almost six months which was a damn drought for you). It was almost as if she knew you too well (she did).

Even though you didn’t plan on going there, at all, you couldn’t resist, lifting your sunglasses to your head, not caring how bloodshot or tired your eyes looked. “Anything I’d like?”

He leaned forward slightly. “Whatever you want,” he promised, the look in his gaze making the same vow but for something completely different.

You leaned forward, too. “Well, in that case…” When you noticed him moving an inch more towards you, hanging onto what you would say next, you grabbed his box of fries out from underneath him. You smirked triumphantly and plucked a fry in between your fingers, popping it into your mouth. 

Instead of getting annoyed like Colter had, he quietly laughed and seemed plenty entertained as he watched you pick up another fry that had red sauce partially covering it. “I should warn you. I’m a sriracha on fries kind of guy.”

You glanced at the fry and then back at him, shrugging. “Oh, I’ve had way hotter things in my mouth than this, trust me.” You never broke eye contact as you slipped the fry past your lips, not reacting in the slightest when the spicy taste came into contact with your tongue. Russell’s eyes darkened and you had the distinct feeling that if you weren’t in public right now and Colter wasn’t here, you’d be at serious risk of him testing that theory.

“Okay,” Colter interrupted. “Let’s focus on the case, please.” He almost sounded irritated which made you glance over to see him glaring in both yours and Russell’s direction. You laughed to yourself and continued eating your stolen fries and sipping your modified version of an Irish coffee. As much as Colter’s annoyance amused you, you were also grateful that he was reminding you why you were there. You needed to get your horny ass in check.

“So this is everything Reenie could find on them?” He asked.

You shrugged. Reenie hadn’t exactly given you all the particulars and you assumed that was purposeful on her part for whatever the reason. Not that it bothered you in the slightest; you had your own shit to worry about. Besides, she also implied Colter would fill you in on everything once you caught up with him.

He looked displeased and then shook his head at you. “Why did she even bother sending you?”

You got angry then. How dare he? It’s not like you wanted to be sent on this fun little errand at the whims of the lawyer who was hellbent on helping him at every turn. “Hey. I traveled on two annoying ass flights to get here, dealing with chatty old ladies and misogynistic perverts, to hand deliver you this shit and to assist wherever I can. Without any warning or time to even pack a toothbrush, I might add. All while I have my own caseload to work on, thank you very much. To help you out and fast. So how about a goddamn thank you instead of whatever this is?” You gestured towards him. He went to reply, but you cut him off. “And while you’re turning that ungrateful frown upside down, why don’t you tell me what exactly it is you’re working on?”

Russell spoke up then, prompting you to look over at him. “A buddy of mine went missing and we’re trying to track him down. His wife called me and asked me to look into it. Colter’s helping.”

That quelled your irritation slightly and you pressed your lips together. You could only imagine how sick with worry this guy’s wife must be; you knew that feeling all too well. “I’m sorry to hear it,” you offered, your tone as genuine and sympathetic as you could make it. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Colter watching you, his frown gone, now replaced by the same sympathy you were feeling. You hated it so you decided to ignore it. “How long ago did he go missing?”

“A few days back. He was returning home after a grocery store run but he disappeared from a gas station while filling up.”

Your brows furrowed. “Taken?”

Russell shook his head. “No. He ran off. It looked like someone may have been after him.” 

Colter slid over the file to you, nodding when you glanced at him questioningly. “Doug Thompson. Former military. Now working for these guys as a private contractor.” Well, now Reenie’s explicit instructions made more sense. 

You opened the file and skimmed the papers as quickly as you could. “Wow,” you murmured. “So these guys are no joke.”

“No, they’re not.” You glanced up to find Russell watching you, all traces of any flirtation and humor gone. “But I don’t think they have anything to do with it. I would’ve heard something if they did.”

Your brows arched in surprise, hearing what he wasn’t exactly saying. “You’re working with them, too?”

He gave you a nod. “I am. We do mostly private security, that kind of thing.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the disbelief in Colter’s expression. He wasn’t buying it either. “Which is code for black ops, am I right?”

Russell tensed. Bingo.

“Which means that whether or not they’re responsible, they’re most likely connected to what’s happening. If someone was really after your friend.”

His jaw tightened. “What makes you say that? It could be anyone.”

You shot him a look and shut the file. “Because I was engaged to someone who did this kind of thing and I know how these things work.”

You watched as his eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward, curious. “Was?”

Ignoring that question and no longer as curious about him, you tossed the file back over to Colter. “Bottom line is this firm is where you should be looking first. Carefully, though. We both know how they like to keep their secrets.” You gave him a thin-lipped smile and sipped your coffee, slipping your sunglasses back on and getting up to head over to the food truck behind him. On your way, you spied a young family nearby. The mother was feeding a baby, smiling as she watched her husband spin his kindergarten-age daughter in circles by the arms, making her giggle. You felt an all-too familiar lump forming in your throat but you forced it back down and continued your trek, coming to a stop at the back of a short line, intending on getting your own food. You weren’t really hungry but you needed a few minutes to regain your bearings before you could switch back into professional mode and be of any help to the brothers.

By the time you returned, Colter sent you a sympathetic glance which you promptly ignored and dug into the case as well as your meal. 

Colter sighed when your car pulled away. He had insisted you go check into a room and clean up while he and Russell made some calls, did some digging, and he would call you if something turned up. You had been only too happy to agree.

Russell turned back to him, after watching you drive off. “Oh, I like her.”

“Of course you do,” Colter muttered.

“Alright, you already gave me the sit rep on you and the lawyer. Now I need one for you and her.” He gestured in the direction you had disappeared in with his thumb. “And don’t hold back because she is…” He gave his brother the perfection sign.

Colter shook his head and wiped his hands with a napkin. “There really isn’t anything to report there, either. We had a…weekend about a year back when I was working a case in her town. Then I got a new case in the next state over and we went our separate ways. Nothing ever came of it.”

Russell continued chewing his fries that you had returned before you left, thinking it over. “There seems to be quite a bit of hostility between you two for just a casual weekend.”

Colter folded his arms on the table. “We didn’t end on the best terms.”

His brother chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “Bit of an understatement.” He then wiped his hands clean, too. “So, she’s fair game then, I take it?”

Colter shot him a glare. “No, she’s not. She’s off limits, too.”

“Come on, bro. You already said the lawyer was off limits.” He gave Colter a look. “Are you telling me you’ve got a thing for both of them? Because if you do, I wouldn’t blame you. They’re both—”

“It’s not like that,” Colter interrupted. “With Y/N, it’s… She’s been through a lot.”

Russell nodded and glanced back down at his food. “Yeah, I caught that.”

“The last thing she needs right now is a reminder of any of it.” Russell glanced up to catch Colter eyeing him sharply.

Russell got the message. He hadn’t addressed it at the time but he hadn’t missed it when you claimed to know how companies like Horizon worked or that you had been engaged to someone who worked for one of them. There was obviously a story there. And that combined with your change in demeanor when he mentioned Doug’s disappearance, you referring to your engagement in the past tense, and Colter’s protectiveness of you — Russell had a pretty good idea of what probably happened. It didn’t mean he didn’t like you, though. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had gotten the impression that you had liked him, too. But in the same vein, until he knew what he was working with, he didn’t want to do anything that might cause you to relive anything that you’d rather forget.

“You don’t plan to call her to help with any of this, do you?”

Colter shook his head.

Russell studied his brother, determining if that was the best option here. You were a PI and a damned good one if Reenie Green had sent you to help. It was obvious from his short interactions with the woman that she didn’t suffer fools and there wasn’t a single thing she missed. So he knew you had to be good at your job. Doug was still missing, Tracy was still worried, and they still weren’t any closer to finding any answers. It might be helpful to include you in this. Another pair of discerning eyes was always a good thing. In the end, though, Russell decided against saying anything. Instead, he asked, “So, you sure she’s off limits?” His brother gave him a glare and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m just kidding. I got it. Off limits.” 

He also didn’t mention that he had discreetly entered your number into his phone when you inconspicuously slid your business card over to him. At the time, he had thought you were giving him a greenlight to contact you after this was over, but now he realized you probably had known what Colter was going to do all along.

Instead, Russell mentioned the autopsy report he had stolen from the morgue and handed a copy to Colter to peruse. While he studied the paper, Russell discreetly sent you a message so you also had his number and so he could shoot you a text when the time was right.

You were in a store, grabbing some clothes to have for the next few days, not knowing how long you were going to be needed here, when your phone began to ring. One quick glance at the screen had you smirking. Russell Shaw. You had slyly given him your number earlier when Colter wasn’t looking, telling yourself you were making sure you were included in the case so you could do what you were sent here to do. But another smaller part of you had hoped the man would contact you for a whole other reason. You may not have been thrilled to learn what he did for a living but that little fact didn’t have to ruin any possible fun you two could have, right? 

Sure, you felt a little guilty because he was Colter’s brother but you were also a realist. There wasn’t anything happening with Colter and whatever had was never going anywhere. Plus that had been well over a year ago. In your mind, you were free as a bird. So, you made a move; now it was up to Russell to make the next one. And you were hoping this was it.

You slid the green button on your screen and put the phone up to your ear. “Russell Shaw,” you greeted, making sure your voice sounded something akin to warm honey slowly drizzling over some fruit. “I had a feeling you’d be calling me.”

“Could it have something to do with me texting you earlier that I’d call as soon as I had an update?”

“Tomato, tohmato.” Hearing his smooth chuckle come down the line, you continued to sift through a rack of shirts. “So, what can I do for you?”

“A lot it sounds like, if I’m being honest.” His voice had dipped in register much the same way it had in your presence before but the effect it had being spoken directly into your ear like this…well, it was a good thing you had already grabbed a half dozen pairs of panties to have on hand. While it took you a second to recover, you couldn’t help but smile. You had been right earlier; he was definitely interested.

A woman walked right past you and you lowered your voice further. “Do you plan to find out?”

“You bet your ass I will. As soon as I’m free to.”

Fuck. If you weren’t in the middle of a store right now, you may have just asked him to start talking dirty to you right there. You had only been on the phone with him for less than a minute and already you were digging your teeth into your lip to keep a guttural moan from escaping you. This man had you so turned on you were surprised that you could still see straight or that you hadn’t run to the dressing room to temporarily alleviate the fire he had started in your belly that was blazing a trail down in between your legs. That voice and the way he was using it right now…it was pure liquid sex being poured into your ear. Your irritation with Reenie had abated some when you met him, now it was all but gone as were any warnings she gave you about the man as well as the thought of his younger brother. “Good. I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Oh, I hope you do.” That didn’t make you clench down on nothing, not at all. If this continued, you would be in that dressing room in the next thirty seconds, guaranteed. You were already starting to get seriously aroused at the images playing in your head. 

“Trust me, there will definitely be some type of holding going on,” you promised. 

“Don’t I know it,” he nearly growled into your ear. Holy… That was it. You were on your way to the dressing room. The sign said only three items were allowed at a time but you didn’t give a fuck at the bulkload of items in your arm; this was an emergency.

But what he said next after quietly clearing his throat had you stopping in your tracks. “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation, I only have a limited window of time. But I promise, we will pick this up later.”

You nearly let out a whine of disappointment. You very much wanted to continue this conversation right now but it slowly was coming back to you that yes, there was currently a missing persons case that was supposed to be your first priority. His missing friend in fact. Your brain knew that was more important though your body was screaming for something else. He had promised though that you would continue this later, something you could keep in your mind’s eye at the end of this very long and fucked up rainbow. As long as he dove into your pot of gold at the end, you could hold out a few more hours. “You better,” you grumbled.

Another warm chuckle floated down the line.

You turned to another rack of shirts, aggressively working your way through it. “So you said something about an update?”

“Yeah.” You had to admire how quickly he switched gears. While you were still struggling to get your libido under control and you were irritated, he sounded completely professional and nonplussed, as if he hadn’t been just talking to you with that tone of voice or implying what he wanted later on. “I reached out to one of my contacts and we think Doug might be hiding out in a location outside of town. We’re on our way there now to check it out.”

Shame immediately filled you at the mention of his friend. Here you were, horny as hell, about to go take care of yourself in the dressing room a minute ago and possibly ask him to tell you in explicit detail what he’d like to be doing to you if he were there, and Doug was still missing. You were more professional than that — hell, you knew better than that. You shook off the remnants of the last few minutes and went right into work mode. “Alright, you want me to come along for backup?”

“I’d love to have you back us up, but, uh…” 

You frowned at the uncertainty suddenly coating his tone. He wasn’t one of those guys, was he? That would be severely disappointing if he was and quite the mood killer, not to mention his third strike against him. You needed to get laid but not that badly. Though you hadn’t gotten the impression that he was one of those misogynistic assholes who thought a woman didn’t know her way around the big scary noisemakers known as guns earlier. “But what?” You snapped.

“Colter thinks you should sit this one out.”

Your jaw tightened and you quickly moved away from the mother and daughter that had just moved near you, lowering your voice. “That motherf— I don’t give a flying fuck what Colter thinks. I am not being sidelined.” You fucking knew it. The minute you had heard what the actual case was, seeing Colter’s gaze of sympathy directed at you — you fucking knew he would try to pull this shit.

“I think he’s just worried about you. You know? After what you’ve been through…”

That pulled you up short. “Exactly what did he tell you?”

“Uh, not much. He just thought this kind of situation might hit a little too close to home.”

You muttered a curse under your breath and made your way to the cashier. Fucking Colter. You knew you should have never told him about what happened with your fiance. He was the type of guy who would keep that in mind every time something like this came up. Hell, you were pretty sure that was partially the reason he had bounced out of your apartment so fast at the end of the long weekend you’d spent together. Sure, he had snagged another case, but you would never forget the look in his eyes as he quickly dressed — the same look you had seen at lunch earlier. At that time, you had liked Colter and you didn’t think your past would be something that could be held against you. Even though your time together had been strictly casual, he had talked to you about his father a little bit and he had seen a picture of Nate in your living room. What were you supposed to do when he asked you about it? Lie? After he had just shared something so personal with you? After he had slept with you four times thus far? You weren’t ashamed of your time with Nate and you had loved the man, been ready to spend the rest of your life with him before he lost his. That was just a tragic fact in your life. Never in a million years did you imagine that not only would it kick someone out your door so fast but now it would prevent you from being able to do your job.   

“Is it?”

You had completely forgotten you were still on the phone, silently fuming about this sudden development. “Is it what?” You dumped your clothes on the counter and gave a nod to the cashier in return when she greeted you.

“Is it hitting a little too close?”

You decided to nip this shit right in the bud. “Okay, Shaw, you listen to me and you listen good. It doesn’t matter if it’s hitting too close as you put it, or not. I do my job and nothing gets in the way of that. Just because your asshat of a brother has apparently decided that I’m some fragile flower of a woman that needs protecting from my own feelings doesn’t mean shit. I’m damn good at what I do and I’m a fucking professional. You hear me?” You handed the woman your credit card, noticing she was giving you an approving nod. You had forgotten that she was hearing every word of this side of the conversation. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

That was all you wanted to hear. “Good. Now, when are you going to send me that location so I can meet you?” You took the bag from the cashier, quietly thanking her, and made your way out of the store. 

“Tell you what. We’re only about thirty minutes out. From where you are, it’s about an hour and a half drive. Why don’t you let us check it out first and if it’s no dice, you can meet us on the way back into town? We’ll regroup and work it together from there on out.”

You tossed your bag in the backseat of your car. “Shaw,” you growled. “What did I just say?”

“This isn't that,” he assured you. “It’s a matter of us working against the clock. We’ve got to get to Doug before the guys looking for him do. That’s all this is.” 

You placed a hand on your hip and unclenched your jaw. He had a point and you also heard what he wasn’t saying: you racing up there to meet them would only slow them down and Doug couldn’t afford that. “Alright, is there anything I can do to help from here?”

“Not at the moment but keep your phone on. Depending on how this goes, we may need to lock down an address and quickly. And for that, we’re going to need you. I’m assuming you have an FBI contact somewhere?”

You pressed your lips together and got into your car. “I know someone,” you confirmed. “He owes me a favor or two.”

“I really want to say something right now at the idea of you and favors and me being the one to close out that guy’s tab but I can’t. My window of time is closing in about fifteen seconds.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Pretty sure you just did.”

He cleared his throat one more time, affecting an even more professional tone than you’d heard from him thus far. “Got to go. Keep your phone on. I’ll text you as soon as I know what the situation is.” 

“Okay, will do.” You briefly closed your eyes, deciding the hell with it. “And, Russell?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful,” you quietly urged, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. Despite what you said to him before, hearing speak in a way that was similar to Nate had your nerves sitting a little bit on edge, now knowing what he and his friend Doug did for a living and what he and Colter could possibly be walking into. 

“Copy that,” he responded, making you realize that his limited window of time he mentioned had expired and he was no longer alone. Sure enough, you could hear the sounds of a car door shutting in the background.

“Keep me updated.”

“Will do. Talk soon.” Before you could say anything else, the line disconnected. Even though you’d heard the confirmation of why he had to go so quickly, a part of you irrationally worried for a second that you had probably scared him off. That your warning him to be careful only cemented whatever Colter had said about you to him and why the former wanted to keep you sidelined. You had meant what you said earlier; you were a professional and your personal tragedies would never get in the way of your job. But that didn’t mean that an age-old worry you’d had every time Nate had gone to work didn’t immediately resurface the minute you were faced with a similar situation. And even though you were pissed at Colter, you also didn’t want him to get hurt.

The moment you figured you had screwed yourself with Russell, and not in the good way, an alert sounded on your phone. You glanced at your screen and saw a new text message from the very man you had just been thinking about. 

“We’ve got this. I’ll text you the minute we’re done checking it out.”

A small smile formed on your face and you texted back a genuine “Thank you”. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and get your head back in the game. You still had to find a motel to check into and you also had to be ready in case they did end up needing that address Russell had mentioned. You quickly looked up motels on your phone, weeding out the ones with the worse reviews, and settling on a place. You fired up Google Maps and started the car, intent on getting a room and firing up your laptop to check on a few cases to keep you busy while you were waiting. That had always been the worst part for you: the waiting. Waiting for a phone call or text to let you know Nate was okay after a job even though he couldn’t tell you the details of said job. So you were determined to place your focus elsewhere but also be ready in case you were needed. 

You truly hoped the brothers found Doug alive at this location they were headed to and that the danger, if any, was minimal. That it was truly nothing the two couldn’t handle together.

Russell quickly hung up with you the minute Colter hopped back into his truck. His brother had stopped to get some coffee at Russell’s insistence though Colter had kept repeating they shouldn’t be stopping. When the latter didn’t immediately get out to go get the beverages after they parked, Colter arched his brows expectantly. Russell had given him a wide smile. “Mind getting it quick?” He waved his phone at the man, indicating he needed to make a call.

Colter looked less than pleased but gave him a nod, most likely assuming it was a call to one of Russell’s contacts that should remain unknown as his older brother had intended, and left. Russell removed his sunglasses and immediately pressed the phone icon next to your name, calling you.

Now, he definitely knew three things: you had lost someone to this type of work, you were a little bit of a spitfire and he liked you even more now, and he was definitely going to pay you a visit after he closed up this whole thing with Doug and got the man back to his wife in one piece. 

Sure, when he’d first seen you, you had been somewhat hostile but entertaining and you’d been a hot mess. One hell of a hot mess in his opinion. Then you’d been flirty, checking him out, and you had even stolen his fries to use them for implications that definitely hadn’t been lost on him (or Colter for that matter, the glare his brother graced you with when you weren’t looking he hadn’t seen since they were kids). Though he’d clocked your change in demeanor when Doug’s situation was brought up and hadn’t missed your evading his question about your engagement status, he couldn’t resist eyeing you up as you walked over to the food truck behind him, nearly whistling at the perfection he was staring at. Not to mention, he liked your spunk and that only made him want you that much more. Then when you plopped back down with your food, completely in professional mode and talking over the case quickly before Colter sent you off, he was even more impressed and he just knew he had to take his shot with you. Under him, over him, to the side of him — whatever you wanted, he was game. No matter what Colter had to say on the matter. Unless his brother had feelings for you, he was going for it the first chance he got.

Colter handed him his coffee, nodding at Russell’s thanking him. “You get anything?”

“Nothing more than we already know.” He placed his sunglasses back on and sipped at his coffee, feeling slightly bad for lying to his brother. He knew Colter’s “off limits” was more about protecting you than it was anything else. But he also had just gotten his brother to start talking to him again, to work Doug’s disappearance with him, and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Nothing within reason, anyway. So a little white lie needed to be told; he’d done it before and way worse. Besides, he also didn’t think it was fair that Colter didn’t allow you the decision of whether you wanted to be involved in this or not. While he could appreciate his little brother looking out for you like the good man he’d turned out to be, everyone deserved to make their own well-informed choices. Considering your ex had been former military turned private contractor, you more than knew what you were dealing with. You had made a good point earlier: your history shouldn’t impact the job you had come here to do. And far be it from Russell to be the one to stand in your way and keep you from doing just that. Plus, they could really use your help if this safehouse Ann had given them didn’t pan out. 

Colter nodded and backed out of the parking spot. “Onward to the safe house. No more stops, right?”

“Right,” Russell confirmed. While Colter was distracted, he discreetly adjusted himself. There had been a moment in your conversation there that he had been tempted to tell you just how hard your sexy-as-hell voice and heavy flirtation had gotten him. But he knew once he did that, there would be no going back and either he’d have to jerk off in his brother’s truck (which would just be awkward especially if Colter returned quickly) or he’d have to somehow sneak into the coffee shop and make his way to the bathrooms so he could rub one out in there. Though that might also prove to be awkward if anyone else walked in to overhear the absolutely filthy things he would be murmuring into your ear from a stall, all of the promises he’d make about what he wanted to do to that sweet body of yours as soon as he had the chance, the sounds of him whacking it echoing loudly in the small space along with his deep groans. There had even been once or twice he’d gently rubbed the bulge in his jeans as you talked, only backing off when it got to be too much and he was about to break, close to ordering you to go somewhere private where you could touch yourself as well while also making sure you could be loud enough so he could hear every amazing sound he knew you would make. Hell, when you’d laid down the law to him, he’d nearly unzipped his jeans and stuck his hand inside to get some relief right there. Not that he didn’t hear what you were saying, not that he didn’t respect it or you, but damn if that little bit of fire you’d thrown his way didn’t turn him on even more. When he had answered you with “Yes, ma’am” a part of him had definitely been saluting you, no doubt about it.

Then he heard someone talking to you in the background, presumably a store clerk since it sounded like you had been told an amount for whatever you were buying. He had the quick thought, or hope, that maybe you were in a Victoria’s Secret or one of those places, buying a little something for him to unwrap you out of later on. Realizing just how much lust had fogged up his brain during this conversation, he dropped his head back against the seat, shut his eyes, and compulsively swallowed. He was immediately determined to keep his cool for the rest of your chat, especially when he opened his eyes to see Colter holding the coffee shop door open for an elderly couple walking inside, coffee cups stacked in his other hand. From there, he’d kept things professional and brief, though he hadn’t been able to resist getting that one last tease in before Colter opened the door. 

And then he’d heard your warning, detecting a note of worry in it, so he’d done what he could to reassure you with the text message he just discreetly sent you. He appreciated the fact that while this case might be stirring up some feelings from the past, you still had gone ahead and told him to be safe. He knew it was meant for both him and Colter, you obviously knowing how dangerous the job could be, but he was still getting used to him being included in that group. It was a little strange for him if he was honest. Other than Tracy saying it when he would pick Doug up for a job and the occasional conversation with Dory where he mentioned he was about to go to work, there was no one else who told him to be careful, to be safe. He found he kind of liked the idea and that only increased his appreciation of your situation, especially now having an even better idea of what you might be currently experiencing. He was no stranger to trauma, that was for sure, and so he could only imagine the thoughts racing through your mind right now, you being pissed off at Colter or not, you having just met him or not. He didn’t intend to give you cause for any more worry. No, he intended to give you something else when all was said and done. He couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.    

But now — now, it was go time. He needed to clear his head and focus on the job. He needed to get Doug back to his wife alive. Colter had made Tracy a promise that both brothers were intent on keeping. And Russell had made you a promise, one he was determined as hell to see through. 

You were just leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel, your hair damp and sitting on one shoulder after you just squeezed the water out of it, when you heard a knock on your motel room door. 

You frowned, wondering who it could be, thinking maybe it was Colter. He always had a way of finding you when that was the last thing you wanted him to do. Truthfully, you had bitched him out earlier when he called you to inform you that he had just successfully delivered Doug back home to his wife, alive and unharmed. He and Russell had found the man at the safehouse and he told them who he had been running from. While Colter didn’t share that information, you gathered from what he did share that it had something to do with a job he and Russell had done for Horizon in the past. You kept your mouth shut but you shook your head. You knew it. Doing that kind of work was always dangerous and always carried risks like that. 

They made the long drive back and now the case was closed. Something you already knew thanks to the text message Russell had sent you already confirming this but you didn’t let on to Colter that you knew. Instead, you proceeded to tell him to stop treating you like a fragile porcelain doll and from there it quickly became heated between you two. The conversation ended soon after with neither of you willing to budge and you let out an aggravated sigh when you hit the end call button. You were grateful he and Russell were okay, but the former could drive you up a wall sometimes. If you could go back in time, you would definitely have told him to get lost when he showed up on your doorstep that one Friday night.

That immediately made you think of Russell and you realized you hadn’t texted him back yet. Colter had called right after you received the text message, with you assuming they had just gotten back into an area with service, and he had told you they had Doug and he’d call again when they got him safely home. You had sat on pins and needles, trying to focus on your most prevalent case, but the worry gnawed at you. Colter’s tone had not been his usual calm, devil-may-care one. It was coated with concern, not something you heard from him too often. So you had been distracted until Colter called you again and then the rest was history.

You slid over to Russell’s name on your screen and tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. A different worry began to gnaw at you this time, the worry that you had indeed scared him off earlier. He had thought twice about it and decided you weren’t worth getting involved with, not even for the casual one night stand. The disappointment sat in your chest for a moment until you got angry. Between the argument with Colter and now Russell bailing on the plans he had implied to you that he wanted to keep, you were done. You hopped up and grabbed the bottle of whiskey you had purchased earlier, twisted off the cap, and took a swig. Well, it looked like it would be another dry night for you and your trip out here had been a complete waste. Colter hadn’t wanted your help and now you weren’t bumping pelvises with his hot older brother either so it was a lose-lose for you. As usual.

You swigged some more whiskey before deciding it was time for that shower you had been craving since this morning. Sure, you could take care of yourself in there and it might ease some of this angry tension in your body that Colter had helped to create, but you were too annoyed. You had angrily slammed your laptop shut and headed for the bathroom, intent on washing all of the bullshit from the last twenty four hours away.

And now, Colter had decided to show up. Of course he had. He might have a thing for Reenie that he refused to acknowledge (as did she), but he was angry (something not usual for him), worked up, and you were in town. Of course he’d show up wanting a repeat performance of the angry sex you’d had in the past. While you could really use the lay to get you out of this drought you found yourself in, you had no desire to go back there and you were definitely not in the mood.

That didn’t mean you wouldn’t give him a tease of what he couldn’t have, though. Not after that argument. Which is exactly why you decided to answer the door dressed (or underdressed) as you were. But when you angrily swung the door open, the person staring back at you in momentary shock was not Colter Shaw. You were shocked yourself; how the hell had he found you?   

Russell’s gaze darkened as he took all of you in. You noticed that he had changed his clothes and his hair looked slightly damp, as if he had recently taken a shower himself. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice dipping in register again. 

And just like that, as if a button had been pressed with that deep tone of his, you were back in the mood. You smirked and leaned against the door. “Hey,” you silkily replied. “Not the Shaw brother I was expecting.”

“But the one you were hoping for, right?” Russell’s wolfish grin was back, completely undeterred by your teasing.

You pretended to think it over for a moment. “Depends.” You grabbed at his jacket and yanked him in closer to you, making him chuckle as you swung the door shut behind him. “What does this brother plan to do?”

“Like I said,” He used that voice again, making goosebumps rise along your skin. “Whatever you want.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.” You lifted up and wrapped your arms around his neck, the movement forcing the towel to fall from your body, as you pushed your lips to his. You ran your fingers through his hair and greedily kissed him, nearly moaning into his mouth when his tongue delved into yours and his hands palmed at your ass. If he moved those fingers a little lower, he would find you already practically dripping for him. If you weren’t so busy trying to keep your balance as he proceeded to devour you, you might have marveled at the effect this man had on your body.  

A moment later, he gripped your ass tightly and picked you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. You could feel the covered bulge against you and you couldn’t help trying to grind a little against it, trying to get some friction.

When you both needed air, you moved to his neck, yanking his head backwards and making him chuckle as you went to town on him. You could also hear him letting out tiny groans above you as he tried to catch his breath. It was one of the hottest fucking things you’d ever heard and you intended on hearing more before the night’s end. “I should tell you before we go any further,” he panted.

“Mmmm, the only thing I need to know is if you’re clean. Because I really want that in my mouth.” You reached below to squeeze his erection, making his breath catch that was then let out in a quiet hiss.

“I-I’m clean,” he assured you.

“Good, me too,” you murmured, nibbling on his ear. “You just need to make sure to pull out and we’re golden.” 

“Okay. I, uh, I also came packing.”

You moved your hand over him and squeezed once more, earning another drawn out hiss of “shit”. “You certainly did.”

He moved you back so he could look at you, his eyes the darkest you’d seen them yet. He cupped your cheek, gliding his thumb along your bottom lip before gently placing it inside your mouth against your tongue. You sucked the digit in further, moaning around it. His gaze was so transfixed on your mouth that you couldn’t help but snicker and release his thumb with a pop. “Russell.”

His gaze slowly trailed upwards to meet yours.

“Was there something you wanted to tell me?” You teased as you rubbed earnestly at his erection. 

“Uh,” You noticed his eyes close briefly when you rubbed near where the tip was located. You could feel a little wet spot forming on the denim underneath your ministrations and it made you grin. “Uh, Colter said you were off limits.”

Your hand immediately stopped its motion. Oh no, that motherfucker had not. He had no claim to you and whatever moment you two had back in the day had long since passed, along with the several women he’d bedded after you including Reenie. There was no way in hell he got to play the dibs card or tell you and Russell, two consenting adults, what to do. You planned to tell him that the next time you spoke with him, if you ever did again. For now, though, you only wanted to focus on the man whose fingers were hungrily roaming over your bare ass and lower, groaning when he found your own wet spot.

You cupped his chin, making sure he was looking straight at you as you stated in the sexiest voice you could manage, “I think you mean no limits. Right, Russell?”

He groaned and held you to him as he hurriedly walked you over to the bed. “Fuck, I knew I liked you.” You let out a giggle as he tossed you gently onto the bed that was quickly cut off by a moan when his body immediately covered yours and his tongue plundered your mouth.

A sudden thought occurred to you and you nearly chuckled against his lips. You had seen the way he had been eyeing you up earlier today and you realized you had the man completely pegged right then. Because just like the Big Bad Wolf, he proceeded to consume you completely, before the tables turned and you did some devouring of your own.

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[hannieehaee]

hello!! can i please a kwan drabble with dom seungkwan where he sees u really turned on and squirmy watching him at practice bc he dances with a very serious/mean expression and ur imagining how mean he can be in bed? so he shows u after?

18+ / mdi

content: softdom!seungkwan, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1659

a/n: i sinned again and wrote softdom!kwan instead of dom!kwan sorryyyy i realized im just not good at writing full on dom lol i hope u still enjoy<3

masterlist

despite popular belief, seungkwan wasn't always as soft and adorable as people had a tendency to claim.

he was an idol after all, which always came with an insane level of duality. while at some moments he could make your heart melt with his cute demeanor, there were other times in which his behavior on stage could not help but leave you wanting more.

as his girlfriend, you had been made privy of all sides of seungkwan. however, he was usually extra sweet towards you. even though your dynamic between each other had vast variety, most of the time seungkwan treated you like royalty, tending to you more often than not.

due to this, you'd always kind of had a preconceived notion of your boyfriend. you saw him like a softie. a man who lives to coo at you and take care of you in ways that were often unnecessary but always appreciated (i mean no one needed to be literally spoon fed, yet seungkwan would sometimes insist on it).

now, however, you were seeing quite a different image of your boyfriend.

you had seen seungkwan perform plenty of times. had attended many of his concerts overseas, even. but you had never truly gotten such a close glimpse of this seungkwan before. it was as if his on-stage persona had blended in with the sweet seungkwan you were so used to.

you were currently in the hybe practice room along with all thirteen members and a few close staff. it had only been about an hour since the boys had started practicing, but their bodies were already drenched in sweat and their minds consumed by the task at hand.

as per usual, there were a few members who would get a little extra serious whenever it came to rehearsing. while some would goof off a bit, others would even take on an entire different personality as the performance consumed them. you'd always observe the former to be chan, soonyoung, and maybe sometimes vernon. but this time your boyfriend had joined in and become completely consumed by his reflection in the mirror as he meticulously monitored even the slightest flick of his hand.

by then you were practically just a nameless spectator. your presence did not matter as you simply sat in silence, equally consumed by the sight of your boyfriend. he had a face of extreme concentration, with his eyebrows furrowed in what one could sense to be anger. accompanied by his frown was a harsh disposition you had yet to see in your boyfriend. he was becoming visibly frustrated by any slight mistake he committed, roughing up his water bottle whenever he stopped for a quick drink and adding a little extra sharpness to every one of his movements (even while he wasnt dancing).

although embarrassed by it, you were starting to feel a certain type of way at seeing your boyfriend like this.

you had heard stories of his anger coming out while rehearsing with the members. fights that had come up among them; sometimes little spats while other times dragged-out feuds. you had never witnessed any of these, but deep down you had wanted to. specially now, getting a taste of how he looked when he was feeling angry.

you tried ro remain calm, you really did. distracting him when he was so focused and in the zone would just be a disturbance to not only him but also to the members. but who could blame you? for months you'd been craving to see a different side of your boyfriend, one that was a little mean. and now you maybe would have the chance of riling him up a bit more than he already was.

which was why the next time he took a quick five-minute break from dancing to check in on you, you decided to play a bit dirty and whisper in his ear.

what you said to him, you'll never reveal. but it gave you the results you wanted as seungkwan immediately blushed and lost all bravado he previously had, making a dumb excuse to the members of why he'd need to take an extended break with you for a while.

that's how you led him into an empty changing room in the hybe hallways and cornered him, but you still had work to do. getting your boyfriend to fuck you was easy, but what you wanted was for your boyfriend to be mean to you. you wanted to bring back that angry and frustrated boy that had been unknowingly seducing you just mere moments ago.

for now the two of you just kissed. it was rough and nasty, with kwannie moaning against your lips as you manhandled him against the wall, whining when you created space between the two of you.

"kwannie ... want you to be mean to me," you breathed against his neck as you undid the buttons of his shirt.

"h– huh? mean?", he sounded surprised.

"yeah, kwannie. like back during practice. looked so angry and frustrated. kept cursing under your breath, it was so hot ..."

"oh ... was i– was i being mean? i– "

"no, but i want you to be. please?"

he kept stammering at you, breath heavy from your touches.

"what is it, baby? cant give me what i want? do you think maybe then one of the guys could? how about wonwoo? he seems like he cou– "

"don't finish that sentence unless you want me to get really mean."

finally.

mustering all the strength he had seemingly been hiding, your boyfriend twisted you around, getting your hands off him and bending you over a nearby table, with your chest now pressed up against the table and your hands being held behind your back.

"want mean? i'll give you mean. just remember you asked for it."

he let go of your hands to undo his pants, and then you made the mistake of moving your arms to get into a more comfortable position.

"did i say you could move?," he swatted your hands and put them back in place, "dont make me tie you up."

you felt chills at this, causing your ass to try and push back against his front. this only got a mocking laugh out of him.

"you're not in charge here, angel. move again and i'll make sure you won't move all week."

"but kwannie ..."

"did i say you could talk? you're gonna sit there like a good girl and take whatever i give you. you asked me to be mean, so im being mean," once his length was out he harshly pulled your own pants down, leaving you in just your thin panties, "you insinuated wanting to fuck one of my members because you were just so god damn thirsty for some dick, so im fucking you. what else can a brat possibly want?"

you said nothing, simply letting out a whine and a huff of frustration.

"good girl. not talking just like i asked. now im gonna fuck you, im gonna fill you up, and you're gonna go back into the practice room and not let a single drop go to waste, okay?", he asked as he pressed his cock against your folds, having moved your panties out of the way, "want a verbal answer this time, brat."

"yes, kwannie ..."

and then came the harshest fucking of your life.

he felt no remorse nor care for your cunt, hammering into it with all the strength and frustration he had been feeling all throughout dance practice for the past few hours.

"you know, im so fucking nice to you. i, fuck, i give you everything. i take care of you," he paused to readjust himself a bit, "i make love to you every day. i bring you to see the world with me, but that's not enough? huh? need me to be mean to you?"

"k– kwannie!", he kept rutting his hips against yours with the most force you'd ever felt for him, making the filthiest sounds as his hips slammed against your ass and your juices mixed.

"should i have been mean to you all this time, baby? should i have thrown away all the gifts and flowers and used you like a toy?", you couldnt see him, but you knew he mustve had that angry look in his eye that you'd been thirsting after just moments ago.

his hand snuck under your panties, digging his finger in to play with your clit roughly and carelessly.

you knew your end was arriving embarrassingly fast, you just hoped that maybe this was affecting him as much as it did you.

"cum, fuck ... cum for me, beatiful," he sighed, starting to slouch against you. even when he was being mean he couldnt help in being nice to you.

you covered your mouth with your hand as you came, muffling your scream at the sudden increase in speed from your boyfriend's thrusts, who was just entering his high along with you.

it took the both of you a few moments to catch your breaths and calm down. you winced the moment he removed himself from you and pulled up your pants again without giving a care for the juices he had just released into you.

despite your limp extremities, you managed to turn around and face your spent boyfriend. his face was flushed and his hair was sticking to his skin. he still had that furrow in his eyebrow and his breath was heavy. it was reminiscent of the look that got you into this situation in the first place.

"was that too mean?", he chuckled shyly, now caressing your cheek with his hand.

"no, kwannie. that was perfect. thank you," you turned your face to give a sweet peck to his palm.

"so, want me to be mean from now on?"

"no, i love sweet kwannie just fine. just .... maybe every once in a while?"

he scoffed, "oh, absolutely. i think i needed that."

[monzabee]

sunday blues – ms47 (+18)

masterlist || part 1 || part 2 ||

Summary: The one where Mick helps you the best way he knows when you’re feeling insecure.

Pairing: mick schumacher x vettel!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, crying, cursing, fluff, insecurities and self-depreciating thoughts, smut, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), google translate german, praise words, minors dni!!

Request: “Hello! I am so obsessed with your recent fic with Mick and Seb's daughter, so I was wondering if you could write something where she is feeling very insecure and stressed and he just kind of helps her through her feelings, maybe something smutty to show her how much he lovers her body or something?👀”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this request has been sitting in my inbox for longer than i’d like to admit, but i’m so happy i got it done! it’s been a while since i wrote smut so if it doesn’t make sense i sincerely apologise, but as always thank you to the anon for the request and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Mick didn’t expect to find you the way he did when he was leaving your flat to take Angie on her morning walk, he really didn’t – because when he was leaving this morning, after having kissed you goodbye while you were still asleep, everything seemed fine. And although he is not the one to stress in these type of situations, his mind automatically goes to the worst possible scenario when he comes home to you crying on your couch in your bathrobe. So he does the expected, he asks whether you hurt yourself – the answer is no. Did something happen to anyone from your family? Nu-uh. Is it social media related? Nope. Did someone physically did something to you? No Mick, you locked the door before you left the house.

Every possible question that comes to his mind being met with a negative answer from you has him perplexed to say the very least, so he takes a seat next to you and offers what he’s sure will put you in a better mood; cuddles. With you in his arms and Angie on your lap, you do feel better, but he makes sure to ask any other possible option that comes to his mind.

“Did you try to bake cookies again?” His voice wanders off, his fingers running through the ends of your braid.

You lightly punch his arm, and then return your attention back to petting Angie as you pout and mumble out, “My cookies were not burnt, they were lightly toasted.”

He lets out a sigh, and after pressing numerous kisses to your hair to coax you, he gently raises your chin up for you to meet his eyes. “I give up, please just tell me what’s bothering you, hase.”

There’s a fresh wave of tears accumulating in your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks, and it absolutely makes his heart clench. You lightly push yourself out of his arms, careful not to disturb the dog sprawled on both of you guys’ lap, “Nothing, you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“No I won’t,” he promises, fighting you in order to gather you back into his arms, but you’re not above fighting dirty – meaning using your nails to keep him away. “Are–” He takes a moment to pause and clear his throat, “Are you on your period?”

Mick watches as your lips part and a sound of indignation break free from the back of your throat. Without bothering Angie too much, you turn in your place to swat at his chest as you hiss, “You are an ass, Mick.”

“Bu– I didn’t mean –” He scrambles to get out, but you’re already walking towards your bathroom, and all he can do is watch you walk away from him. This time, his eyes meet Angie’s, and he can swear his dog is giving him the biggest side-eye known to mankind, but he can only breath out a, “I messed that one up big time, didn’t I?”

Angie gets up from his lap to walk towards the bedroom. Mick soon follows closely behind towards the bathroom.

You can hear his knocks and a faint Can I come in?, through the closed bathroom door, but as you try to tame the mess that is your hair, you call out to him, “No!” And because Mick is a gentleman, and arguably the best boyfriend in the universe, he actually waits outside the bathroom. Eventually, though, you feel bad making him wait outside by the door and with a final glance in the mirror, you stomp a few steps and push the bathroom door open, revealing Mick's concerned face.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, but before he can continue with the rest of his sentence, you cut him off with yet another swat of your hand to his chest and another fresh wave of tears.

“I am not, and I repeat – not, on my period.” With a final hit to his chest, you walk back to your previous spot in front of the sink and try to brush the knots in your hair.

Wincing at the way you’re aggressively dragging the brush through your hair, Mick walks towards you to stand behind you at the sink and gently takes the brush out of your hand. “Here, let me do it.” And though you don’t want to admit, he’s gentle yet successful as he brushes your hair out for you. With his eyes occasionally drifting to watch you over the bathroom mirror, he dutifully manages to finish brushing your hair, and soon after you are back in his arms as he wraps them around your middle. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you?”

You shake your head with another sniffle, “It’s not important.”

“Hase, please,” he practically begs as his attention is drawn to your puffy eyes, “it is important if you’re still crying over it.”

With a guilty look on your face and an apprehensive voice that absolutely breaks his heart, you mumble, “You really want to know?” This time it is you who is meeting his eyes through the mirror to see him nod sheepishly, and as you occupy yourself with his fingers you find yourself mumbling again, “My, uh, my boobs are too small.”

“Your what, is what?” Mick stammers in surprise, blinking at the unexpected confession. His expression shifts from confusion to realization, and his fingers tangle themselves with yours. “Hase, are you serious?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, embarrassed by your own admission. “Yes, and don’t call me that.”

“What?” With more confusion he stammers out, “I– I thought you liked it, it’s cute.”

He watches you let out a soft whimper, and then throw your head back against his chest in frustration. After sniffling and, yet, another fresh wave of tears, which Mick quickly wipes away as he keeps his gaze locked to yours, “I’m not supposed to be cute.”

“Oh?” he asks, “And what are you supposed to be, then?”

“I don’t know!” The sudden sob breaking out from the back of your throat has his eyes widening in surprise, and also concern – but for the first time that morning, you seem to be talking about what’s been wrong, so he has no intention to interrupt you. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be anymore! I can’t be too perfect or too flawed, too confident or too uncertain; people have opinions and they are not afraid to voice them, so I end up feeling not enough for the majority of time.” Mick’s hold tightens around as you let out a particularly violent sob, “And my boyfriend has bigger boobs than me!”

Mick's eyes widen in both surprise and disbelief as your last sentence tumbles out, and for a moment, there's a pause in the air as he processes your words. “So you’re sad, because you think your boobs are not big enough?”

“Well yeah,” you mumble, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious under his gaze. “I told you you’d think it’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Mick announces, “everybody gets insecure sometimes; what I don’t understand is why on earth you would compare yourself like that.” Mick's fingers gently wipe away a tear from your cheek, and he turns you towards himself to lift your chin up, “You’re perfect the way you are, hase.”

You let out a shaky breath, his words slowly starting to sink in. “I just don’t want to feel like this all the time.”

“I know, darling,” he coos and then offers you a gentle smile, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your cheek. “You’re perfect, you hear me? My perfect girl, hm?” He ignores a whiny objection in the form of you dragging out his name. “The kindest,” he leans in towards you, “and the smartest,” then presses his lips against your forehead, “the most beautiful girl inside and out.”

“Micki,” his names comes off from your lips in a whispery sigh, your head turning sideways as his nose nudges your jaw. His warm breath tickles your skin as he continues to nuzzle against your jaw, his lips brushing over your skin in gentle, feather-light kisses. His lips stretch when you let out a soft giggle, “It tickles.”

Mick's lips curve into a playful smile against your jaw, and he continues to pepper your skin with those feather-light kisses, this time intentionally causing a cascade of giggles from you. His touch is tender, his affection evident in each sweet gesture.

“It does, doesn't it?” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he moves his kisses to your cheek.

You squirm slightly in his embrace, the ticklish sensation mixed with delight. “Baby, stop,” you manage to say between giggles, even as your fingers find their way to his sides, retaliating with a gentle poke.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” With a final loving peck to your cheek, Mick relents and holds you closer to himself as your giggles slowly subside. As your giggles subside, Mick tilts his head slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes, still filled with tenderness, lock onto yours, and he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Feeling better?” he asks softly.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you give him a tight lipped smile. “I’ll be fine, Micki, I promise.” Ignoring the look he gives you, which tells you that he doesn’t believe a word you say, you reach up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being here, you know?”

“Of course, hase,” he mumbles in thought, the material of your robe feeling soft under his touch as he lets the cogs turn in his head. With his eyebrows furrowing, he grabs you by the waist and raises you up to sit you on the bathroom counter. “On the second hand, I think I need to show you just how much I appreciate you, hm?” Ignoring yet another objecting sound from your lips, he places a kiss on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck, and moves his kisses down until he’s met with your robe again. With a playful glint in his eyes, he lets his fingers work the knot of your robe’s belt.

His eyes widen as his brain registers the fact that you are not wearing anything underneath the robe, and you reply to his flabbergasted look with an innocent shrug of your shoulders as you give him the excuse, “I was about to take a shower before I… well, had a moment.”

You watch as a string of expletives leave his lips, and he needs to take a moment to recover as he mumbles, “Guter Gott.” Though, as your breathy giggles bring him back to the present, he pushes your robe off your shoulders in a quick move, and you realise there is a much darker look in his eyes when your eyes meet again, “And you think my girls are not enough.”

Before you can answer, his hands are quick to grab your breasts as he gives them a firm squeeze, causing you to forget whatever clever comeback you had and instead let out a shallow exhale. “They’re small,” you complain, but he is quick to shut you down by pinching your left nipple between his two fingers – not enough to make it actually hurt, but enough to shock you into shutting up and letting out a small yelp instead.

“Stop talking,” the sharper undertone of his voice has you biting the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation, but his eyes soften as he looks at the bewildered look on your face. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he fixes you with his stare as his hands go back to gently handling your breasts, “I’m going to fuck you in front of this mirror so that you can see just how beautiful you are, and you’re not going to say a word unless it’s a moan or telling me to stop.”

With a slacked jaw you stare at your boyfriend, your sweet Mick who is soft and treats you as if you’re a china doll most of the time. But now, he looks at you with a stern look in his eyes, and the fact that they are a few shades darker than their normally baby-blue colour tells you that he means business. “Can you kiss me first?” Your voice is breathy, because everything about Mick makes it harder to breath harder, and the corner of his mouth rise in a small smirk as his brain registers the desperation in your voice. “Please.”

“How can I not when my pretty girl is being so well-mannered?” He watches as you straighten up in your place, which causes you to come closer to his face and he lets out a low chuckle. “Patience, baby,” he moves his hands to cup your face and his thumbs gently caress the tops your cheeks. He teases you by dipping his head until his lips are touching yours, and he lets out another chuckle when you chase his lips when he slightly pulls away. But deciding to alleviate you from your pain, he finally presses his lips against yours – though his kiss is nothing like his soft touch from mere moments ago.

His tongue explores your mouth as if he hasn’t kissed you a million times before, but his kiss is as bruising as they come. He draws all kinds of noises from you, with a single kiss, and it would be concerning how much you lose yourself in him if it wasn’t too good. You manage to nip at his lower lip just as he is starting to pull away.

“Gut sein,” he mumbles, the small (but accomplished) smile on your lips bringing a smile to his own. “Now, what do you say to me for the kiss, hm?”

Be good, he says – you can totally do that. His lips move down to your jaw to then your neck, and your lips form a perfect ‘O’ when he starts nipping and sucking on your skin. “Thank you for the kiss, Micki,” you mumble breathily, your hands grabbing his forearms to move his hands from your face back onto your breasts. He lets an appreciative hum as his hands go back to fondling the skin under his hands, which elicits a louder moan from your lips, “Oh, that feels good.”

Mick’s reply comes in the form of another hum as he keeps on sucking hickeys, which will undoubtedly make you complain to him tomorrow, but the way he handles you is enough to convince you not to care. After he’s satisfied with handiwork; he pulls back from your neck to only dip his head more to take one of your nipples to his mouth while his hand is busy groping the other breast, causing you to weave your fingers through his hair to press him closer to your chest. His ministrations, combined with his intention of marking up your chest as he did your neck has you ending up as a whimpering mess on the bathroom counter, calling out Mick’s name to do something more in hopes of him keeping his promise. His voice is husky as he asks, “Now do you believe me?”

Your hands are on him the second he pulls away and his breathing is a mess while you scramble to get off his shirt; your hands gliding across his chest down to the start of his running shorts he has from his morning run, and he has to restrain himself from letting out a groan as you sit in front of him with wide eyes and lips that are pink from all the biting. You voice is also husky as you answer his question with one of your own, “Are you going to fuck me now, liebste?”

He smiles sweetly at your attempt of trying to take back the reigns, and he tries to appear in though as he slowly pulls you off the counter. “In a second, I have to check something first.” He quickly turns you around to face the mirror, where you watch his hand’s movements as it slides from your waist down to the front of your sleeping shorts. The gasp that leaves from between your lips causes his sweet smile to morph into something more mischievous, and you catch his smirk on the mirror in front of you as he lets his fingers feel the wetness between your legs. “You’re soaked, hase, I think you’re more than ready.”

“Yes, please,” your voice comes off in a whimper as you slip your hand behind you to palm the bulge that presses onto your back through the material of his shorts that hang lower on his hips. You let out another moan when his fingers make their way towards your clit, which is his way of reminding you of who’s in charge – and it’s most definitely not you given the fact that you almost topple over the counter when he presses his fingers with slightly more pressure. You hear him let out a low groan when you move your hand slightly, but his fingers continue their movements which causes you to let out small mews of pleasure.

After he pulls his fingers out of your short, and consequently makes a show of licking them clean that leaves you quite literally panting with need. Smirking at your reaction, he taps the outside of your upper thigh, “Spread your legs, baby, watch me on the mirror, hm?” He makes sure to place your hands on the countertop after he’s done taking of the remainder of your clothing and underwear. A part of you is sure he’s secretly enjoying the attention and how good you’re being as you silently watch him ges out of his own shorts and underwear. “You ready?”

“Mhm-hm,” you mumble as you nod quickly and gather your hair on one of your shoulders.

Mick presses his lips on your bare shoulder as he grabs your waist with one of his hands, grabs the base of his cock with his free hand and guides it between your legs – a gasp leaves your lips as the tip of his cock presses into you. He’s slow as he guides the rest of his cock into your pussy, and you drag out his name under your breath. “So good,” he murmurs as his hand joins his other one on your hip, and he tries to keep his hips still to give you an opportunity to get used to it, “always feel so good for me.”

Your hands grab the marble tighter as the stretch has you wanting to just press your hips backwards against his, “Move, Micki, please.”

He meets your eyes through the mirror and chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby,” he repeats his words from before – but he obliges you nonetheless, as he pushes in all the way in a move that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. He is slow as he starts moving his hips in a steady rhythm. But soon he picks up the rhythm, and every snap of his hips to yours has you becoming more and more of a whimpering mess. His eyes capture your blush that is painting your cheeks and he lets his eyes wander lower where it has started to move towards your chest, which he’s more than welcome to adore the view of your breasts moving with every move his hips makes.

The moans that rip from the back of your throat become louder, stronger and more demanding as Mick decides to thrust himself deeper into you – a sweet reminder that you’ll definitely be feeling him for the rest of the day and all of tomorrow. You can’t seem to form sentences with words other than more, please and various forms of his name, but he grants you what you want when one of your hands leave the counter to pull him in for a kiss. It’s messy and rushed, but it leaves you lightheaded as you find yourself begging for more when he pulls away. “No, no, I want more,” a high-pitched whine begs, and you drag out the next word, “please.”

Mick lowers his head enough for his lips to be level with your ear. “Look into the mirror, hase,” his breath hits your skin, and he rewards you with a sweet smile, “you see what I see?”

“I don’t see you giving me another kiss,” you grumble, but quickly stop rebutting when his hips deliver a rather sharp push, “fuck, that feels good.”  

“Look how beautiful you look,” he pants, his laboured breath hitting your ear, “the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” You’re sure your skin will be bruised from the way his fingers grabs onto your hips – not that it would look out of place with other parts of your body he’s already marked you on. “And you say you’re not enough, God, hase.”

Your hand snakes its way from his neck towards his hair as your fingers thread through his locks. “I need more, Micki, please.”

But unfortunately for you, Mick has every intention of  ignoring your pleas. “Do you know why I call you hase?” Between the haze of him fucking you into the counter and his breathy words, you manage to give him a weak shake of your head. “It’s because I love seeing your tits when you’re bouncing on my cock.” To accentuate his point, he holds your hips in place as he delivers sharper thrusts.

“I thought it was because of the way I scrunch my nose,” you gasp while pulling at his hair. Though it is not exactly the part he chooses to focus on – instead, he watches as your already blushed cheeks become a deeper shade. Another gasp, this time laced with a louder moan, is ripped from you when he continues the sharper movement of his hips, “I– Mick, right there!”

“Shh, I got you,” he soothes your moans as he stills the movement of his hips for a minute to hike your left leg to rest it on the counter and then grabs the hand you have raised up to do the same, “hang on for me, okay?” He watches as you give him a tentative look through the mirror as he wraps his arm across your middle to reach for your clit as he harshly pushes himself back into you.

Combined with his thumb applying pressure onto your clit and the way he’s filling you up once again causes you to moan his name louder than before. “I’m not going to last,” the whiny words leave your lips before you can stop them, and he gives you a smirk as his fingers quicken their pace, “fuck, Micki, just like that.”

Lost in the pleasure building up in your lower stomach, you don’t realise his free hand moving up to cup your breast until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers to draw out another moan from your lips, which sounds more like a scream because of all the please you’re feeling. “Do you see how beautiful you are? Look at yourself, baby.”

“Please Mick,” you let out a moan meddled with a sob as you watch your reflection in the mirror – the way your body is shaking with every movement of his hips and the way his front is pressed into your back, the disheveled look of your sweaty hair, and the way your wide eyes accompany your blushed cheeks, “make me come, please, I’m so close.” Your words must’ve acted as a source of motivation, since he quickens the pace of his hips and presses his thumb more as he continues the steady movements, which has you chanting out nothing but praises and a string of yes, yes, yes, yes.

Regardless of the condom he’s wearing, Mick can tell when you’re close as you clench around him, and he urges you to let go by mumbling into your skin, “It’s okay, hase, let it go.” And who are you to not give your boyfriend what he asks of you? So he’s there to guide you through your release while you sink your nails into his biceps to still yourself. He’s not far as he reaches his own peak and spills into you, which pulls yet another moan from you as you also hear his loud groan – a sound you’ll never get sick of hearing. You gasp lightly when he eventually pulls out of you; though when he sees the tired smile you give through the mirror (and yes, maybe he does call you hase because you do scrunch your nose while smiling), he responds with one of his own as he presses small kisses to your hairline, “There’s my smile.”

“I love you,” your raspy voice whispers, and suddenly you’re lost once again in the way he’s looking at you – a habit you’ll gladly keep.

“I love you too,” he responds, his nose nuzzling your jaw before giving you a sweet kiss, and it makes him chuckle lightly when you’re chasing his lips once again when he pulls away. “Come on, now we both need a shower.” The sounds of your giggles when he picks you up to get both of you into the shower, and as you hid your face in the crook of his neck you hear him mumble, “Mein hübsches mädchen.” My pretty girl.

[highhhfiveee]

mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!  i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night 

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max). 

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert. 

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world. 

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face. 

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please." 

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more." 

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's. 

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike. 

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly. 

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs. 

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave. 

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something. 

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret. 

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously? 

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey." 

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet." 

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet. 

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off. 

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car. 

you didn't know how long you could go on like this. 

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)  all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

[kikixreverie]

Need to know

Best friend!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary - When your best friend starts acting strange and you're left confused about his feelings, Natasha manages to convince you to try to make him jealous, what could go wrong?

Word count - 5k

Warnings - kind of smut, Dry-humping, slight dirty talk, a lot of kissing, fluff, jealousy

A/n - This was a request from an anon but Tumblr ate the ask... and I don't have it written down, but it was something along the lines of 'Best friend!bucky x reader where she asks him advice about a guy to make him jealous'. I wrote this months ago and it definitely wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are. I have edited it about 50 times now and still feel kinda anxious about it since I haven't posted in a while so I really hope you enjoy!

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

You had always been close with Bucky. Always. Having met in your teenage years and grown up together, you were thick as thieves, he'd been your best friend for now the majority of your life. Someone you'd always go to over anyone else when problems would arise at home or school, and he did the same with you.

He had found you hiding out in the library on your second day at your new school, picking at your food with distaste as you sat alone. You were surprised at the fact that the boy had even talked to you in the first place, offering a small wave of his hand and a kind smile when you first saw him, but when he asked politely if he could sit with you and didn't hesitate to pull his lunch from his backpack and complain as dramatically as possible that there was just 'far too much food in his bag and no way he could eat it all', you remember smiling the most you had in weeks, rolling your eyes as you took the fruit he had offered you wordlessly.

You'd been best friends ever since, and there was always this unspoken understanding between you, one that you never had with Steve, as much as you loved him, or Natasha, as close as you are. It was always different with Bucky, always a different atmosphere between the two of you.

That was also unspoken. You'd mentioned it once to Natasha, explained to her that somehow, just being in the same room as him managed to calm that ever-looming anxiety you tended to feel, and when you'd meet his eyes across the distance, you always knew exactly what he was trying to tell you without any words needing to be spoken, that for weeks after your childhood pet passed away when you were 15, Bucky held your hand every single day because your anxiety had spiked and he had noticed the constant shake to them. That became a hard habit to lose.

Her response was 'the look', almost deadpan, wordlessly saying to you 'I know you're not a fucking idiot, c'mon now'.

You had blushed and changed the subject.

Of course there were times you might've looked at him a bit differently, you met at a fairly young age, and it was after meeting him that your interest in boys grew.

Watching the scrawny boy you'd known since you were 13 get his braces off and grow a sudden foot taller was a lot for your growing heart to handle, and then that Brooklyn-boy charm came in and girls were falling at his feet, not one of them knowing or caring about who he was, just hypnotised by those light blue eyes. You always hoped he was too distracted by those girls to notice how desperately hard you tried not to fall under his spell too.

So yeah sure, there may have been a time during your mid-to-late teens and possibly your early twenties that you might have liked him in a' more than a friend' way.

But that didn't mean anything had to come of it.

However, there's a certain red-headed Russian woman in your life that, for some reason, refuses to let you hide in your dark pit of misery and denial.

You shouldn't have even mentioned it. the one time you willingly brought up the topic of James Barnes with the all-knowing Natasha and she had immediately fed your delusions.

"I'm not saying he was jealous at all, Nat, I'm just saying... he looked kind of upset."

"What kind of upset? Did he look sad? Angry? Were his eyebrows all furrowed? ooh, did his fists clench? I bet his fists clenched. The jaw definitely clenched. He's a jaw clencher for sure-"

"Nat, Stop! He just..." You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically as you leaned against her kitchen counter, "He just seemed off."

"Okay, but did his jaw-"

"Yes! Now can we stop talking about it."

She stopped what she was doing to stare at you, her eyebrows raised, "You do realise you're the one that brought it up right?"

You sighed and pressed your palm to your forehead, before dragging it down your face, and Natasha tutted, wrapping her arms around you in a tight squeeze.

"You're stressing yourself out too much about all this, babe. Why don't you just ask him how he feels."

You pulled back from the comforting embrace quickly, but still stayed in her arms, "Fuck that. No. No way. Then he'd know, he'd know why I asked, or he'd at least ask me why I asked and then I'd either have to run away or lie to him and I've never been able to-"

"Okay, breathe angel. Stop this, you can't do this forever, honey. I know you're scared of losing him but this is what could break your friendship if you let it, half the time you're avoiding him because you are so scared of him knowing how you feel." Said Natasha, before she pulled away to continue with her cooking.

"What do you mean how I feel?" You asked, feeling your cheeks grow hot when she sighed and shook her head, not even looking your way.

"Nope, no, not even gonna get started on that one. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

You opened your mouth to argue but she only gave you another look, and your mouth snapped closed.

It was silent for a moment and you leant your elbows on the counter, holding your face in your hands as you watched her expertly sprinkle different spices into her food, but you knew not to get too comfortable in her silence, Natasha was scheming, and that was definitely something to be frightened of.

You practically jumped out of your skin when she finally broke the silence, "I have an idea, but I need you to have an open mind and actually listen for once, okay?"

You hesitated, struggling to hold the intense eye-contact she was currently giving you. A part of you was ready to say no, tell her to leave it be and let you wither in a pit of sadness, but the rest of you leaned in to her words, wanting, no, needing something to happen, anything after years of this constant stalemate, this strange game of cat and mouse between yourself and your best friend. You were constantly holding your breath around Bucky, waiting for something inevitable to happen. What that would be? You had no idea, but you couldn't do it anymore.

"...go on." You finally said, having made up your mind without realising. Natasha almost seemed surprised, but you weren't sure that was even possible. She nodded and gave you a smile.

"You wanna know if he was jealous? Give him a reason to be and then figure out if he is, that way, you'll have more of an idea of how he's feeling, and when it comes to talking to him about your feelings, you might actually do it this time. Plus, you might get some info on how to get him even more interested."

You thought over her words, still confused as to what her grand plan was, "And how might I do that exactly?"

"Say you've got a date, ask him for advice, play with him a little bit. Works every time, trust me."

She said it like it was no big deal, and you were stuck on the way her smirk widened when she said 'play with him a little bit'.

"I just told you I can't lie to him." You replied.

Natasha simply raised her eyebrow at you, "As if you haven't been lying to him since you were 15."

"Hey, that's not lying, it's just... concealing certain parts of the truth."

She tilted her head in your direction but you ignored her, turning away completely and crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

"Don't lie then, tell him that your interested in some guy and play it off like your asking for advice. He doesn't have to know that he is said guy and its all a secret ploy to make his jaw clench again."

"Nat." You groaned.

"What?"

"Why would I ask him for advice though? He knows I'd go to you."

Nat sighed this time, frustrated with your excuses, "Tell him you wanted advice from a guy."

"But Steve-"

"Just do it! If he's actually jealous he'll be more focused on the fact that your trying to get into pants that aren't his." She raised her voice, dropping her wooden spoon into the simmering pot to turn to you, that Russian accent peaking through her words.

"Nat, I'm telling you now, he isn't jealous."

She almost started to argue, but then she spotted that dejected look in your eye and stopped herself, taking a deep breath to calm her frustrations and think of a good response, "Are you saying that because you believe it? Or because you want him to be jealous so bad you wish he wasn't, because you're terrified of losing him."

You went silent, staring down at the floor when you realised you had no response for her.

"Thought so." She said before shuffling closer, pulling you in for a hug, "Look babe, you need to stop worrying about what could happen, and just focus on what is happening right now. If you're not ready to tell him how you feel, you don't have to. Trying this won't hurt, and it won't hurt your friendship, okay? Go one step at a time, you're getting too ahead of yourself."

You thought about it for a while as you enjoyed the hug, before you pulled back and nodded, thanking her for the advice and apologising for being difficult, she only chuckled and began to dish up the food.

"No worries honey, I'm used to it."

It's not like you had ever said you'd actually do it, and you never exactly planned to. But Natasha's plan had started to loom over every interaction you had with Bucky, so much so that without realising you had started to avoid him, and that only made you feel worse.

It took a sleepless night of tossing and turning and missing your best friend like crazy when you finally made the decision. You can't do this forever, why not just say fuck it for once.

It started when Bucky had invited you to his place for a movie night, like he did every weekend, like he had the past two weekends where you had declined, but this time you said yes, and decided that this would be the night you tried to make him jealous.

You weren't proud of it, and a part of you felt incredibly guilty as you stood at his door and knocked. No matter how many times Natasha told you this was harmless, you still couldn't believe her.

"Are we knocking now? What happened to 'your place is my place'?" Bucky asked as he opened the front door to let you in, barely moving aside so your arm brushed against his when you walked past him.

"Ha ha. Just didn't know if it was locked or not." You punched his shoulder and he scrunched up his face in mock offense.

"Sure. Go sit down and pick a movie, I'm just getting some snacks ready." Bucky said, nodding to the couch before he turned and walked into the kitchen, black sweatpants so low on his hips you could just about see the waistband of his boxers, wearing a black t-shirt with his hair pulled back into the low bun you'd helped him learn how to do.

You nodded slowly, watching him walk away for a few seconds before rolling your eyes at your own idiotic behaviour and slumping down across Bucky's couch, the remote in your hand as you lazily flicked through Netflix.

"Any particular genre?" You shouted out to Bucky, who came out from the other room to shrug his shoulders at you.

"Like I said, doll, whatever you'd like. Only fair after I made you come with me to see that god-awful movie Pheobe forced me to watch."

You snorted a laugh, frowning when he walked away again, your mind wandering to the last time you went to the movies with Bucky, over a month ago now, when he had forced you to third-wheel his second date with 'Pheobe' for no apparent reason.

It was almost humiliating the way she had pulled you aside in the bathroom.

-

"I seriously don't mean to be rude but... why are you here?" Pheobe whispered, despite the fact that every stall was empty and Bucky was stood outside the building, but your face grew heated as the woman across from you voiced the exact question you'd been asking yourself all night, "Like, at first I thought you were a lesbian, but after that story you told earlier I'm assuming you're not, which is fine, but why are you here? I told Bucky this was a date. Does he really not like me at all?"

You were stumped, opening and closing your mouth like a blank-minded fish, searching for the answer that you didn't have, only coming up empty, "Honestly Phoebe, I have no idea. I'm sure he does like you, maybe he just wanted me to come to..."

"Maybe he just wanted to go on a date with you."

"What?!"

"You heard me. I think I'm the third-wheel here." Her voice went quiet, and you instantly felt bad.

"No, Pheobe. That's absurd, he's my best friend."

"You might want to re-think that."

--

"What did you pick?" Bucky asked, placing the bowl of popcorn in-between you as he sat down and you smiled at him, pushing away the memory.

"Twilight." You replied, sinking back into your seat as you grabbed and handful of popcorn and shovelled it into your mouth.

Bucky nodded as his eyes focused on the screen, his jawline prominent as he chewed, licking his lips of the salty flavouring, a light stubble on his jaw from not shaving in a few days-

"You good?"

You gulped loudly, taking a breath as you met his eyes, embarrassed that you'd been caught staring, "Yup." You said, nodding as you turned to look at the screen again, ignoring his amused chuckle.

Your mind wandered to the conversation you'd had with Natasha only hours ago.

'Don't overthink it, just bring it up when you get the chance, be casual about it'

No overthinking, casual. Easy. Maybe now would be a good time to bring it up, casually, without overthinking anything.

"Actually-" You started, clearing your throat when it immediately closed up and your fight or flight was begging to kick in, your mind instantly wondering to all of the negative repercussions this could-

You were definitely overthinking right now.

"Yes?" Bucky asked, still half watching the movie before he fully turned to face you, sensing that this sounded fairly serious.

Definitely not casual either.

"I wanted to uh, talk to you about something." The temptation to smack yourself on the forehead was growing unbearably stronger by the second, but you imagined that would probably raise some concern. Your hands twitched by your sides instead.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's kind of- I basically, well." You tried to awkwardly laugh it off, but sighed instead, just fucking say it, fucking lie to your best friend to find out if he's jealous, "There's this guy."

His eyebrows raised, lips parting, before he quickly snapped his mouth shut and furrowed his eyebrows, taking on a sort of clinical expression as he nodded, motioning for you to continue.

"He's uh... I really- like... him, and... he's..." You took a breath, too many pauses, "different, you know?"

He scrunched his face up, "Different? What does that even mean."

"I don't know I just-" You covered your face with your hands, regretting every decision that had led you to this point. "I really want him to like me."

It was quiet for a moment, and you wanted to peak at him, but couldn't.

Bucky sighed, hands gently taking hold of your wrists to pull your hands away from your face, "Look sweetheart, if he's really a smart guy, he'll already like you. Any person would be lucky to have you, you don't need to change for anyone."

You rolled your eyes at him but smiled nonetheless, "I know Buck, thank you. I just..."  

Don't overthink it.

"I was wondering if maybe, you might give me some advice? I'm seeing him on Monday and I guess I just want to make him want me, you know?"

He paused, still holding onto your wrists, "Want you?"

"Yeah, you know like- I wanna know what guys really like. I want to make sure he'll never forget me. That sort of thing."

"Sweets, I don't know if you should be asking me that. Why don't you just talk to Natasha if it's that important." He said, letting go of your wrists and pulling away.

"Because I want to hear it from a guy, and Steve's far too awkward for this conversation. C'mon Buck, please. I want you to teach me."

"You want me to teach you?" He asked, more than slightly breathless, and you quickly realised that this sounded much less like getting advice for a guy you like and more trying to get info on what Bucky liked sex-wise.

You did not plan for it to go down that route, and you wondered if you should pull it back, change the subject and try this again another time, without getting too explicit, but the way Bucky had almost whispered those words, was driving you insane. You wanted this to go further. "Yeah, I want to give this guy the night of his life."

He clenched his jaw, and tried not to laugh at the situation, almost tempted to text Natasha at that very moment and break the news. 'Jaw has clenched, I repeat, the jaw has clenched'. You managed to keep that temptation under control, still finding the situation slightly humorous before you actually realised what this meant.

Holy fuck, he's jealous.

You knew now was as good a time as any to push further, and with your new-found realisation, came a new-found confidence, the nerves pushed to the back of your mind, the only thing left of them being the fluttering in your chest.

"What do you think I should wear?" You held back a smirk when he leaned forward in his seat, elbows rested on his knees as he dropped his face into his hands. You kept pushing, "Remember that green dress I wore to your birthday last year? Do you think I should wear that one? You'd think he'd like that? Would you like it if it were you?"

"What do you mean if it were me?"

You froze, your cheeks heating up, that heat spreading to your neck as you quickly tried to save yourself whilst keeping this strange relaxed smoothness to your voice. "If you went on a date with Pheobe, and she wore that dress, would you like it?" You asked, before deciding to push it even further. Natasha's voice echoed in your mind 'play with him a little', "Would you think about taking it off her?"

He didn't even hesitate to reply, turning his head to look at you as he continued to sit forward, an almost angered air to his words, "It wouldn't suit her."

"You don't like it? But I thought-"

"Yes, I liked the dress, you looked fucking gorgeous in it. It just would suit her." He urged, the words coming out in one breath, his voice straining over the final word as if it was physically uncomfortable to say, like he held a certain distaste for the word. Her.

You could sense the atmosphere in the room changing, warping with the darker, heavy feeling that radiated off the man you were teasing without him even realising it, and although you knew you should probably stop, that you were getting on his nerves and for some reason this seemed to be a touchy subject, that nagging, red-headed voice was seeping into your thoughts again, telling you to go further, so you continued to push.

"Would he like it do you think?" You asked, tilting your head, keeping that sickly sweet innocent look on your face, he sighed and closed his eyes, his tongue wetting his lips again, teeth biting at the soft skin.

"If he had half a brain he'd fucking love it." He breathed, eyebrows furrowing along the words 'fucking love it' and you knew exactly what he was thinking of, the picture he had in his head.

Your smile faded, watching the way he opened his eyes but kept them trained to his feet. That heat grew in your chest, that weight, that feeling, weaving its way around your heart and seeping into your bloodstream, it carried through your veins, and suddenly you had never felt closer to your teenage self than you did now, like she had pushed the older you aside and taken her place, because she knew this feeling, she was the only version of you to ever fully accept and admit it for what it was, that the reason she blushed so much when her best friend asked her to prom because he'd rather go with you than some random girl he didn't care about, was because you loved him, and of course you still do now, of course you do.

You thought of what Pheobe said that night, you thought of what Natasha was constantly telling you, or that time Steve accidentally slipped that Bucky had a crush on you when you were younger, and you looked at him now, quickly realising that it was never them who warped your idea of Bucky's feelings, it was you.

The feeling had encapsulated your entire being now, the realisation of yours and his feelings and you decided that you had both waited far too long if this is what you wanted.

And you wanted him.

So you continued to play, speaking with a much more serious air this time, you didn't smirk, you just watched him as you spoke.

"I guess that's settled then, I just need to know what to wear under it." You practically whispered it, the warm apartment feeling sweltering now.

"Fuck." He whispered to himself, dropping his head in his hands again, "What are you doing?"

He looked at you from his bent position, almost looking desperate. No, he did look desperate, and you hated and loved it at the same time, for two very different reasons, you understood exactly what he was feeling, having been a victim to his teasing one too many times.

You parted your lips to talk, thinking for a second that you might actually be upsetting him, but then his eyes dropped to watch the movement, staring at your lips as he released a breath.

"I'm asking you for advice, Buck." You said quietly, eyes darkening as you leaned closer, your nose almost touching his and his eyes dropped again, entranced by your lips, "What about kissing?"

His lips parted, eyes darting up to meet yours, but he made no move to go back, in fact, you realised with a feather-light touch of his nose to yours, that he had inched closer to you, "What?"

His eyes were soft as he waited for you to speak, no apprehension to be seen.

"I need to know how to kiss him, how guys like it, you know?" He moved back an inch, that not so subtle disappointment in his eyes, "How do you like to be kissed, Buck?"

He shook his head in a barely there movement, eyes still not leaving yours, swallowing roughly when he caught you looking at his lips.

You moved closer to him, filling that inch that he had put between you, your heart thumping faster in your chest when he did the same, like he was magnetised, he looked at your lips again and you decided to take the chance.

"Like this?" You asked, before filling the gap completely and your pressed your lips to his, kissing him soft and slow, your stomach fluttering when he didn't hesitate to reciprocate, kissing you back the exact way you were guiding him to, but you pulled back before letting it continue for long, his breath fanning out across your lips, you gaze fluttered to his eyes for a moment, "Or like this?"

You kissed him again, this time harder, more urgency in it, your right hand lifting to his shoulder before you slid it to the nape of his neck, a sudden desperate need for his lips on every inch of your skin overcoming your thoughts when his arms wrapped around your waist.

You pulled away again and he tried desperately hard to follow you, eyes opening to voice his frustration when you wouldn't let him.

But you brushed your thumb across his bottom lip, silencing him, "Or maybe like this."

This, this was definitely the one.

You kissed him soft and slow, but this time parted your lips to brush your tongue across his, relishing in the noise that escaped him when you did so, and the way he then did the same to you, parting his lips in a way that breathed hot air into the kiss.

You were so enraptured with the taste of him that you barely even noticed when he pulled you onto his lap, your knees digging into the couch on either side of him. You only realised when his thighs between yours had suddenly stopped your ability to squeeze your thighs together in hopes of relieving that throbbing ache that had formed between them.

This kiss continued much longer than you had planned it to, forgetting what you were going to do next, but you didn't mind much, too caught up in the way his lips were so stupidly soft and his tongue was hot and wet, and his hands were huge and grasping at your clothes with a desperation so similar to the way you pulled his hair.

You pulled away again, much to his dismay as he practically growled and rolled his eyes in frustration. He rested his head back against the couch and licked his kiss swollen lips.

You needed more, barely letting yourself think about the fact that you had just kissed Bucky, The Bucky, Your Bucky.

"What about this, Buck? You like it when a girl does this?" You asked and he frowned, looking up at you in almost annoyed confusion, opening his mouth to speak but then you moved forward on his lap, sitting in a way that your core was pressed against his, his cock twitching in his sweatpants when you rolled those hips of yours, the annoyance and confusion faded and he reached for your hips, eyes fluttering shut when you made the movement again, biting your lip when it stimulated your clit, "Do you think you could come from this, Bucky? Or would you need more? Would you want my hand, or my mouth? Or would you just be begging to fuck me at this point."

He groaned at practically every question, his hands holding your hips as you grinded yourself on him, his cock now achingly hard as his hips started to lift slightly.

"Fuck, sweetheart, what is this? Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice urgent and needy as he forced himself to stay still under you, gripping your hips tighter to signal for you to stop your movements, much to either of your dismay, "Please tell me this isn't all for some fuckin' guy."

You froze, confused for a second, before realising he still had no idea, and that guilt you had shoved away creeped back in.

Your heart was in your throat as you finally told him the truth, "It is, but he's you Buck. It was always you, it's always been you."

His lips parted, eyes widening slightly at what you had just confessed to him, "I'm the guy you were asking me advice about?"

"Well yeah, who else am I gonna get better advice about what you like from? Better to hear it from the horses mouth, eh?" You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders as you watched him huff a laugh with a shake of his head.

"Natasha, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow but you didn't respond, probably looking very guilty of his accusation, "Well, I guess I should tell you that we may have been two-timed by her. She actually gave me the very same advice a few months ago, I just never had the guts to take it as far as you did."

"You talk to Nat about me?" You teased, but he only smiled gently, soft eyes watching you.

"Of course I do, how could I not tell her all about the girl I've been in love with since I was 15." He confessed quietly, blush reddening his cheeks, "God, she must be sick of me talking about you."

You laughed quietly, trying not to settle into the disbelief of it all and instead focus on your excitement, that teenage girl inside of you was screaming with glee and kicking her feet. You didn't let realisation that James Barnes just confessed he'd loved you the whole time you'd loved him be tainted with regret about wasted time.

"She must be sick of us both, I've been doing the same thing ever since I met her."

He smiled at you and you smiled back, pressed your forehead against his.

"What do we do now?" You asked, still very much feeling the physical after-effects of your intense make-out session.

Bucky huffed a laugh, "I'd love to say go to the bedroom, but not yet, I think we should work up to that."

You nodded and smiled, understanding what he meant and feeling thankful he was able to voice it for you, "Agreed."

"We could do this for a while longer though, still got four and a half twilight movies left to go." Bucky joked, his fingers finding their way under your shirt to brush against soft skin.

"Hm, sounds like an excuse to make out with your best friend all night."

"Maybe it is." He whispered back before he kissed you again, using his hand on your back to press you against him.

It felt so natural to the both of you, your bodies fitting together perfectly, no awkwardness or anxiety. You knew you'd both need to talk properly soon, but that could wait a few movies more, for now you could settle with kissing him until you ran out of air.

[purplekiwis]

𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

Summary: While they're on opposite ends of the social spectrum, Y/N and Harry have been the closest of friends for years. But could it be that an all-night working session for a science project helps them break out of the friendzone?

Genre: Friends to Lovers | Nerd!Harry x Badgirl!Y/N

Warnings: SMUT | Self-Deprication | This is coming-of-age story. There's no mention of their age but both characters are in their last year of high school (just a heads up in case someone doesn't want to read because of that)

Wordcount: 10k

A/N: ok y'all, so i have made a mistake.

i was like 99% sure there was a request in my inbox asking for a blurb where harry was nerdy? i found it interesting so i started working on it... only to realize halfway into things that that was not in fact what was written in the request 😅

i figured i might as well post it anyways since i wrote it but yeah... i'm sorry, anon! i (now) know you wanted subby!harry, but all i have to give you is nerd!harry (don't worry, i made him a lil subby just for you 🤫)

also, before y'all flood my inbox with asks about the non finished fics (rightfully so) i hear you and i'm very, very sorry for the lack of updates. i had to take a break because i kept feeling like the texts i could come up with weren't good enough for the stories i wanted to tell. i still partly feel that way, but i'm hoping the lack of real harry content will inspire me to write more in the near future. thank you for reading my dumb little stories, i love you 💖

****************************************************************

Harry was never too fond of grocery shopping.

He really didn’t like the whole “put things inside the cart, remove things from the cart at the cashier, bag them, put them back into the cart, get them in the car, take them out of the car, bring them inside and put them away” process.

It was extremely inconvenient to him.

It was also very time-consuming, though Harry believed this particular belief of his was directly influenced by having to grocery shop with his grandparents every other day.

Naturally, they were slower than he was, so he'd just drag his feet behind them, push the cart and wait for them to ask him to grab something from the shelves that their aging pains no longer allowed them to reach.

That part was fine, what bore him the most was how easily they got sidetracked by trinkets that weren’t on the shopping list. Oh! And how they always managed to locate a random old person they knew from God knows where who engaged them in talks that appeared to stretch for hours.

Harry would try and make up reasons not to go with them sometimes, but he always felt a little guilty about it afterwards. After all, it was a very small favor for him to help his grandparents with their groceries, considering they had been the ones to provide him with a loving home after his parents failed to do so.

People always seemed to feel sorry for him when they found out he'd grown up without his “real parents” around, but he'd never had reasons to complain, really. Unlike his parents, Joe and Martha had always treated him nicely and made him feel genuinely loved.

They were a little overprotective at times, but like Y/N always said, that was probably because they watched too much TV.

Speaking of Y/N, Harry didn't hate grocery shopping with her so much. He even kind of enjoyed it as long as the space wasn't too crowded. That day it wasn’t, which he was extremely thankful for because it reduced the chances of them bumping into any familiar faces who might ask about his grandparents, or if the girl he was with was his girlfriend.

That’s another thing he detested about running into people his grandparents were friends with - they loved to pester him with indiscreet questions about his love life that made him go red-faced. It was even worse when he happened to be with Y/N during those times; fortunately, she was always a bit clueless about it. Harry guessed that the reason for that was that she was so comfortable with their friendship that she wasn't even aware of what was going on… even if she thought it a little odd that he kept introducing her as his neighbor even though they weren't neighbors anymore.

Despite the fact that they no longer lived next door to each other, Y/N was still a frequent visitor at Harry’s house. Ever since his family relocated to a different area of the city, it had become custom for her to spend the night whenever the two had group projects to do.

Their journey was always the same. As they got off the bus from school, they would head to the supermarket to stock up on frozen pizzas and late-night goodies to help them through the long hours they’d be spending working on their computers.

That day was no different. They'd just grabbed their pizzas, and were now wandering around the drinks aisle looking at the options.

“Do you think your grandma would notice if we hid one of these in your backpack?” Asked the ex-neighbor, Y/N. The smile on her face got him figuring she was up to no good… even before he noticed the bottle of whatever alcoholic beverage she was holding.

The idea startled him a little more than he'd like to admit. “Don’t start! And put it back before anyone sees you.”

The way his body jumped made Y/N laugh as she set the bottle back on its shelf. “Relax, okay? I was only messing with you... I knew you'd be too chicken to do it. But just so you know, they don't even ask for an ID most times.”

He replied to her with a headshake. “You're not as cool as you think just because you get drunk with your friends every once in a while.” She didn’t seem too pleased by his remark, but Harry figured that by now she ought to know he didn't mean most of what he said when he was annoyed. “You can get an iced tea… or a pepsi… or that weird-flavored soda you like.”

“Fine.”

Harry noticed that even after he allowed her to pick her favorite drink, Y/N still didn't seem particularly happy with him. She trailed behind him in silence while he pushed the cart around and didn't even appear to care when they walked past the shelf where her usual go-to snack was.

“Did you know that statistically, people who start drinking in their teens have a 5 times higher likelihood of becoming alcoholics than those who only start later?” Harry knew it probably wasn't the best conversation topic to get her to talk to him, but it was the only thing that came to his mind in the moment.

“Did you know that stating facts like that makes you look 1000 times more of a nerd than you already are?”

Harry snorted at her retort. “You didn't seem to mind me being a nerd when you asked me to work on the paper with you.”

“I do every paper with you, why should this be any different?”

He smirked at that. It was true. He and Y/N had attended every academic year together since they first met in elementary school, and they had managed to enroll in almost all of the same classes each time. They were currently in their senior year of high school, and their friendship was still pretty solid despite their different personalities and social interests.

Y/N was in the midst of a rebellious phase. In the beginning it all had been quite harmless, with her obsession with dyeing the ends of her hair crazy colors and pairing fishnets with knee socks. That somehow led her into starting to hang out with people Harry considered to be a little unnerving.

He wasn't sure what exactly made him annoyed about them... Maybe it was because he was a little resentful over having to “compete” for Y/N's attention and feared he would one day completely lose her to them, given that they were undoubtedly the cooler part of the equation. Perhaps part of it was also because those people reminded him of the kind who used to bully him for being a dork when he was younger. Thankfully, he wasn't being bullied as much anymore, but he still didn't have many friends.

He also barely interacted with girls, as one might expect. There were times he had crushes, but he was always afraid to talk to them, so things never really went anywhere. Thus, Y/N was really Harry's only female friend.

He confesses sometimes he was surprised she still wanted to hang out with him as much as she did. When she became popular, Harry naturally assumed she would ditch him for social status reasons, but that never happened, which was a big relief to him since he liked having her around.

They were both geeky, so they watched a lot of movies and played video games together... but when it came to other things, they were a little different. Y/N had a much better sense of style, was much more social, and enjoyed doing dumb things like smoking weed and getting drunk behind her parents’ backs.

Harry had never really understood the appeal of it. In fact, his lack of interest in participating in that stuff sometimes worried him a bit, but again... it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious.

There were a few times when he thought it would be cool if he could hang out with Y/N and her friends, go out drinking, dance, and maybe, just maybe, if he was very very lucky, even get to kiss someone on the mouth.

But then he always ended up reasoning that people like him weren't welcome at parties and that if he ever dared to step foot into one he'd probably end up being the butt of everyone’s jokes.

Even knowing so, he couldn't help fantasizing about it… especially the last part. Yes, Harry definitely thought about intimacy a lot more than he'd ever be willing to admit… and he also pondered a lot about how being practically invisible to girls sucked… and about how much he wished one would give him a chance.

He was aware of his issues, however. He knew he wasn’t exactly the hottest guy around. His haircut and clothing were out of style, mostly because he lacked the confidence to mess with his looks and follow the trends the way other people did. He’d buy new t-shirts sometimes; the only thing was that they almost always had gaming-related designs which obviously didn't do his style much good.

But it wasn’t all bad. Harry knew he had nice eyes… he just couldn't get the girls to come close enough to notice them. He figured the way he stared at the floor when he walked, along with the thick glasses he had been wearing since childhood had also taken part in preventing people from noticing how green his eyes were.

He thought Y/N had nice eyes as well, and he liked the way she accentuated them with make-up… even when her eyeliner turned out a little uneven or got smudgy because she forgot she had it on and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

She'd been doing that a lot in the last hour they'd been working on their paper, which was making Harry feel a little bad.

Normally, by that time in the evening Y/N would already be working on her part, but as they'd started later than usual, she wasn't. Also, being the control freak he was, Harry always wanted to be the one in charge of the research portion of any papers they worked on. Leaving the final task of writing and flourishing to Y/N.

So the poor girl had been sitting next to him for hours, watching him go through articles on his laptop.

Harry could tell by the increased frequency of her yawns that her battery was running low, so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard her hesitantly ask, “Are you planning on staying up much longer? Aren’t you getting tired?”

“Um… not really. I found this really cool essay and want to make sure we gather all of their data.” He was so preoccupied with copying and pasting that he didn't even look away from the screen as he replied to the question. “It's a shame we don’t have any hot springs nearby... wouldn't it be cool if we could collect samples of these microbes and study them in the school lab?”

“Are you for real?” She looked at him like he was crazy as she let her back slide halfway down the bedframe. “Do you really find these stupid water microbes that interesting?”

“Not all of them, it’s just that I’d never considered that there could be some growing and thriving in actual boiling water… since, you know, that’s what’s supposed to kill them.” Due to the silence that followed, Harry realized that despite Y/N's efforts to keep him company, she was moments away from falling asleep. “Should I go get the air mattress to make your bed?”

“I can't sleep. I haven't done my part yet.”

“It's fine; we still have the entire day tomorrow to finish.”

“Don't bother with me if you’re focused on the paper. I just need to close my eyes for a bit, but I won’t fall asleep.” She promised, but Harry knew better than to believe her. “Do you mind if use your covers? Your room’s a bit chilly.”

“No, not at all.” He didn't mind it, in fact, he even found it a little exciting. Not in a pervy way, but it felt good to know that a good looking girl would be using his bed and leaving her girly scent on it. Harry tried not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts over Y/N too much, but of course he thought she was hot. He wasn’t that blind.

He hadn't always felt that way. For a long while Harry just thought of her as his best friend, but she'd grown into her curves in the last couple of years and he would be lying if he said his eyes and mind didn't occasionally wander. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn't like he was ever going to do anything other than fantasize, so he supposed it was alright… as long as she didn’t catch on.

Truth be told, he’d always liked Y/N’s personality, but as of recently her looks and the way she dressed had also made her the type of girl he was attracted to on the outside. Yes, it was always the girls who wore alternative clothing and scowled a lot that caught his eye.

He was aware that his preference sounded extremely stereotypical coming from a shy loser like him, but it wasn’t like he could help what he was keen on.

“Is the entire chapter on Volcanic Islands really necessary?” She asked, leaning further into him so she could see the laptop screen despite being laid down.

“I'm not sure if it's necessary, but I thought we should at least mention these two islands since they keep coming up.” He could feel her sigh of defeat on his arm. “It’s already halfway done. I've already gotten all the info about Iceland… now all that's left is this tiny archipelago in Portugal.” With that, he rushed to type the final location on the Google search bar but was taken aback by Y/N's chuckling. “What are you laughing at?”

“Do you not know how to delete your browsing history?” She asked him, still laughing.

Harry's brows furrowed slightly, but he smiled along. “Huh, why? Seriously random that.”

“Random, really? I may only be half awake, but I can still see.”

“See what?”

“See Pornhub come up on your suggestions when you started typing Portugal.” Harry's face dropped instantly. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut his laptop lid. He could feel his entire body tensing up as a burning wave swept across his face, hotter than he'd ever felt before. “Harry, relax!” Y/N remarked when she saw him like that. She seemed rather worried about it as she clung to his arm and shook it. “Hey, look at me, this isn’t a bad thing. You don't have to-”

Before she could say anything else, Harry covered his face with his sheets and muttered, “Yes it is. It’s embarrassing.” Honestly, even that felt like a tame word to describe how he was feeling. This was, hands down, one of the most awkward circumstances he’d ever been in. He wasn't prepared to deal with it, so he chose to remain hidden and avoid further conversation.

He knew he'd have to come out at some point, but he couldn’t bear the thought of facing Y/N knowing that she knew he watched porn and wanked. It was making him feel all kinds of yucky, which was why he was a bit shocked by what happened right after.

Y/N ventured under the sheets after him, and eventually nestled into his side. The warmth felt nice, but being so close to her was weird. He liked it, but it also made him feel worse at the same time, given that she'd been the catalyst for his breakdown in the first place and all that. Plus, he still couldn't wrap his head around why she wanted to touch him when he felt so icky.

Despite the fact that they were right next to each other, it took a while for one of them to venture breaking the silence. By the time Harry tried, he had a dry mouth, so he had to swallow first. “I know it’s not your fault, but I'd honestly rather you hadn't said anything because knowing you saw is making me feel like shit.”

His faltering whispers seemed to stun Y/N a little, as if she'd already accepted that they wouldn't be talking for the rest of the night. “There's no need for you to feel that way… especially with me.” She returned his hushed words. “I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get like this. I was just joking.”

“I know, but it still bothers me.” Harry was a little surprised by how at ease he felt speaking in quiet whispers while hiding under his covers. For some reason, talking to Y/N in this setting wasn’t as mortifying as he'd anticipated. “And just to be clear, I have no idea how that ended up in my suggestions. I always use incognito mode for that stuff.”

He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shrug. “You must have forgotten to open a new tab. It has happened to me before.”

“Oh. So. You watch it too?”

“Doesn't everybody, at least once in a while?”

“I don’t know… I suppose they must, yeah.” They both fell quiet for a bit, but not for longer than a few breaths as Harry felt the urge to clarify something. “I don't want you to think I'm a perv, though. I don't watch it all that often… not the kind of stuff that you’re probably thinking I watch, anyway.”

“What do you think I think you watch?”

“I don’t know, like… cringy, scripted porn… you know, the usual “oh no, I’m stuck!” stuff that shows up on the main page.”

“Um… I’ll be honest, you’ve always came across as more of a Hentai guy to me. And before you say anything, this isn't just me calling you a weeaboo. I've watched my share too and overall, I think it's much better than that other stuff you were talking about.”

“Yeah, fine... I'll admit that I like Hentai, but it’s not all I watch.” Harry wasn't sure why he felt so keen on sharing all of a sudden, but weirdly, he was kind of enjoying their conversation. He found the topic interesting, and he'd never had the chance to discuss it with anybody in person before so… it was fun. And, on top of that, Y/N was disclosing a bit too and he liked that he was getting to know this part of her as well. “Do you know what audio porn is?” She hummed and nodded yes. “Cool, so, there’s this category called ‘guided masturbation’ that’s basically just girls talking and like... telling you what to do. There’s no visual content really, but it has a very real feel to it that I like... almost as if you're on the phone with someone.”

“That's interesting, actually. I always thought that audio porn mostly for women, since, you know... everyone says men are visual creatures.” She shifted her weight slightly, turning towards him. “But you still find naked girls hot, right? the sight of them?”

“Well, of course. I’d be worried if that wasn’t the case.” Her question struck Harry a little, but he liked that she was acting curious and asking him things. “Honestly, I think the reason why I don't watch more regular porn is because I can't picture myself living out the fantasies. I don’t know, it’s weird to explain.”

“You can’t picture yourself in a sexy plumber costume ready to unclog a hot milf’s pipes?”

Harry snorted. “You're joking, but that's pretty much what it is.”

She hummed as she drew closer to him on the bed. This time her, placing her head into the crook of his arm. Her mouth was closer to Harry's ear in this position, although he wasn't aware of this until he heard, and felt, her whisper again. “Is that why you like to hear girls telling you what to do? because you're a bit unexperienced?”

Harry wasn't usually one to cuss, but shit. Hearing her whisper that somewhat snarky question so close to his ear struck a chord with him. It was freaking hot and kind of reminded him a bit of the audios he liked. Obviously, it wasn't as explicit, but it was better in many ways. A huge downside to the experience, however, was that it was extremely difficult to concentrate afterward. In fact, in the midst of his thoughts, Harry almost forgot to reply. “Um… I guess? I’m sorry, I kind of forgot what the question was.”

“No, it’s all good. I’m sure you must be getting tired.” With that, Y/N crawled out from under the covers. As she did so, her hand stumbled onto Harry’s toppled over laptop. “Oh, I didn’t even notice this was here. We should probably turn it off, right? Assuming you don't want to keep working after this.”

Harry also came out from hiding and sat up in a position similar to hers, with his legs partially covered by the covers. As his eyes re-acclimated to the brightness of the room, he massaged them a little. “Sure. I’ll just need a moment to, uh… make sure the file got saved properly, if that’s okay.”

Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Y/N snatched his pillow from his side of the bed. She tucked it under herself and slid back under the sheets. “I've got a comfy bed right here so… feel free to take as much time as you need.”

He smiled at her antics as he readjusted the laptop over his legs and opened it. Turns out the file had been autosaved, but Harry still saved it once more before switching off his computer and setting it over his desk. “Yeah, that's fine. I don’t mind giving you my bed for the night and sleeping on the air mattress for a change.”

“Or you could spare yourself and sleep right there instead of worrying about which one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”

Her offer caused his eyebrows to rise, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing to do. He liked the idea of it but was a little concerned about accidentally doing something embarrassing in the middle of the night. What if he made a toot? Or worse, had a wet dream? He hadn't had any recently, but one never knew when it might start happening again. In any case, he'd probably wake up with a stupid morning wood as usual, which was something that he could typically make go away before he got up when Y/N was around… but if she was going to sleep next to him, wasn’t there a chance she could tell? That prospect made him terrified. “Um… I'm not sure that I'm a good sleep partner; grandma says I used to move a lot in my sleep when I was small.”

“Oh. I don’t mind. I just don't feel like sleeping by myself tonight for some reason.” Y/N shrugged, leaving him unsure of what to say next. It was already difficult to say no when it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it became nearly impossible when he looked at her and met her begging eyes.

Well then, if she was being so casual about it, he figured it must not be that common for people to do humiliating things in their sleep, contrary to what he had previously been led to believe by his insecurities. The other factor that was pushing him to say yes was that having to get up to grab the air mattress from the attic and make Y/N a bed sounded a little too demanding for how lazy he was feeling. His bed wasn't even tiny either, so they'd have plenty of room to spread out without troubling one another throughout the night. “Ok, alright. But don't grumble tomorrow about having trouble falling asleep because of me. This was entirely your idea.”  

“I don’t grumble.” He made sure to let her see his eyeroll before turning off the lights and getting into bed with a second pillow for himself. No one said anything for a bit, they were just adjusting their positions in search for the most comfortable one. Harry was still wide-awake, but he believed it wouldn't be long until Y/N fell asleep. She was already close to when they were working on the paper, so it shouldn't take long at all.

She proved him wrong, though, when she blurted out something after minutes of being quiet. “I have another question for you...”

“Oh. What’s that?”

Harry saw a shadow that he believed to be her head poking up from the pillow, propped on what should be her arm. Her voice sounded quite chirpy too, which meant he’d probably underestimated how awake and willing to chat his friend actually was. “Have you ever… like, kissed anyone?”

“That’s so random.” It was during times like these that Harry wished he could travel back in time. If he could go back and pretend to be asleep two seconds ago when Y/N asked if she could ask him a question, he wouldn’t even hesitate. Heck, he'd even pretend to snore if it meant not having to respond but alas, since Harry didn’t have any time travel abilities, that wasn’t an option. She knew he was awake and was anxiously awaiting his response. “You're quite random sometimes, Y/N...”

Her voice was hushed, yet a little taunting. “That’s not an answer.”

Harry sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let him off the hook until he participated in the discussion she wanted to have. “Alright, then… define kissing... does something like a peck qualify?”

“No, Harry. I'm talking about actual kissing. Tongue and all.”

“Oh um. I knew that, obviously.”

“And did you do it or not?”

“Yeah I, uh. I've kissed...” His words stumbled slightly. They didn't come out as cool or confident as he’d hoped, but he did try to make his statement sound plausible. “But it wasn’t with a lot of tongue... just like, a little bit.”

Y/N let out a snort at his unconvincing answer. “You’re a shit liar, but fine. I used to lie about it too when people asked me.” Rather than defending himself, Harry didn't say anything, which told his friend all she needed to know. “Is it something you think about, though? would you like to do it?”

“Well, yeah… of course I’d like to. Even some of the guys I hang out with have done it... and you’ve seen them.” Harry felt a bit mean making that remark about his friends' looks. Obviously, he wanted them to have someone who liked them, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had much going in terms of physical appeal. “I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I’m the problem and that the reason why I haven’t kissed yet is because I’m not a kissable person. My only hope is that things will change once we start college. I don't know if I ever told you before, but I've been thinking about switching to contacts. I was also thinking it could be nice to exercise a bit just so clothes would fit me better. What do you think? It should help, right?”

Even in total darkness, Harry could tell that Y/N's eyebrows were deeply furrowed by her tone of voice. “Who was it that told you you weren't kissable?”

“Nobody needed to tell me. I see myself every time I look in the mirror. I dress like my grandpa and have a bit of a hunch like him too.”

“I think you're mistaking being unattractive for wearing clothes that aren’t particularly flattering. It's very different.” Harry knew she couldn't see it, but he was kissing his teeth at what she’d said. “If the reason why you want to make those changes is to feel better about yourself, then you have my full support… I do, however, have a feeling that’s not all it is, so I hope you realize that you don’t have to bend over backwards to be likable or kissable, or anything else. You already are all of those things exactly as you are.”

“I appreciate you sugarcoating things to make me feel better but if what you are saying were true, and I was fine the way I am, I wouldn't have this much trouble finding someone who saw that in me.” He sighed, a little annoyed by her efforts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard for me to believe you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be me. You’re like... the coolest, most kissable girl ever.”

There was a slight click, and suddenly the room got soaked in an orange light that caused Harry to squint despite his familiarity with it. His bedside table lamp was on, and Y/N was staring at him in awe. “You think I’m kissable?”

Crap. Had he really blurted it out that way? He couldn't recall the precise words he had used, but it seemed unlikely that Y/N was asking him that for no reason. She looked very taken aback by what she’d heard, and Harry, who still hadn't a clue how he’d managed to put his foot in it yet again, felt his face turn red and his tongue stutter once more. “Not in a weird way! Maybe I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I was being weird, but it was just a form of expression. Not that what I said isn’t true, but I would never say it like that. Even if I wanted to kiss you, which has never crossed my mind, really.”

“Hm.” Y/N’s gaze was drawn to her hands as he finished. Harry observed that she was picking at her nail polish, which was rather unusual for her unless she was nervous. “Is it really that ridiculous? I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind...”

His forehead wrinkled. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No Harry, because I'd like to.”

“Me? You’d like to kiss me? Why?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Her tone was a little hesitant, but she carried on. “Aff, okay… screw it. I might as well tell you since we’re talking about it. So, I, uh. I have a bit of a thing for you. I’ve had it for a while, but it was never serious… since well, I never really felt like there was a real possibility that it could be reciprocated. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner, that and because I wasn't sure how things would turn out if you rejected me so… I figured it would be best not to say anything.” She shrugged once more, as a small smile formed on her lips. “You’ve also never mentioned having any crushes or being into anyone, so I thought maybe you weren't interested in that type of stuff much.”

“Yeah, right.” Harry rolled over in bed, facing away from her. It wasn’t unusual of Y/N to play practical jokes on him from time to time, but this one did not go over well with him. It seriously screwed with his self-esteem and since it was her, he could have easily been tricked into admitting something he'd end up regretting. “I know you’re taking the piss and I don't think it's funny, like, at all.”

“Why would I be taking the piss? Do you really think I'd joke about something like this? And look at me when I'm speaking to you!” She pulled on his shoulder, compelling him to lie onto his back so she could at least see his face.

Harry complied with her, but not without a groan. “I'm serious Y/N. If you’re trolling, this is your one chance to say so ‘cause If I find out later that you were doing this to see me make a fool of myself or to get me flustered, I'm going to get really, really angry at you.”

“I may play a lot of dumb jokes, but I don't play with people's feelings like that… let alone my friends' feelings. I'm dead serious, Harry. It's really not that hard to see it if you think a little.” She huffed, upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She'd guessed he’d act a little wary at first but hadn't expected him to think she was pulling a prank on him. How could he have missed that she had a thing for him anyway, with how touchy she was when they were alone together? With her acting so eager to be his first kiss? She'd been shit at hiding it for years. It was so clear. “Do you remember when we were kids... my parents took us to a fancy playground by a lake and... there was a girl there who had a Nintendo but wouldn't let me play with it, she would only let you, so I snatched it away?”

"Yeah, I remember.” As he replied, Harry was unable to stop himself from letting out small laugh at the memory. “And then you threw it in the water because you'd heard from someone that Nintendo’s were waterproof. Your parents got so mad, and she wouldn't stop crying. It was awful.”

“Yeah, that. Except, I never really thought that they were waterproof. I did it because she was nasty... and it made me upset that you’d left me to play on the slide alone.” Y/N admitted, also laughing and shaking her head a bit at her childish antics. “I didn't know back then what being jealous was, but I think about that day sometimes... it makes me feel embarrassed obviously, but it also makes me realize that I've always been really possessive of you. I think if you'd turn out to have many girlfriends I would have realized much sooner that my feelings for you weren't just friendly ones.”

“Wow. Was that really what that was?” Harry was stupefied and Y/N couldn't not giggle at his open mouthed reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just… this whole thing is really confusing. My head is spinning a bit and... being completely honest, part of me still thinks that you’re joking but at the same time, you seem serious enough so I’m gonna choose to believe you. Even if I have no idea why you'd like me that way, other than maybe ‘cause I'm tall.

“The hair too. Don't forget your fluffy hair.” She added playfully. “No but, even though I like those things, they aren’t the reason why I like you. I just do. There’s no logical explanation for it.”

“Yeah, um. That makes sense. I mean, not really but I think I understand that feeling you were describing and… I can kind of relate to it too since I've kind of had a small crush too since last year… or well, I've realized last year... back when you were dating that Joshua guy. It made me jealous. I’ve always thought it was silly though, so I tried not to think about it too much.” Harry acknowledged, albeit doing it with more trepidation and delay than Y/N had. “I've had other crushes too, but they were on girls I never talked to so... they didn’t last too long.”

“Wait so… you’ve had a crush too? since that long?”

“I- uh.. I have. Yeah.”

“You must be really good at hiding your feelings then, because I never noticed anything that suggested that, much less that you were jealous. Trust me, if I had any inkling I would’ve had this conversation with you last year instead of doing what I did. I didn’t even like Joshua much… I just wanted to have someone.” She pursed her lips in a mournful smile before reaching out for Harry's hand. It wasn’t the first time that their hands had brushed, but this time something in Harry's chest was sparked by her touch, making him feel both ecstatic and stiff at the same time. “It's nice that you've had other crushes, though. I think I'd be more upset if I found out you'd been caught up on me all this time and I'd just been completely unaware of it. With that said, I don't want you thinking about other girls now. Only me.”

“Yeah, okay. Just you. I like how that sounds a lot.” Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but he felt compelled to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss it. His gesture made her giggle, but he got somewhat self-conscious afterwards. “Was that lame? Probably, right?”

“No, it was cute. I liked it.” She reciprocated by lifting his hand to her mouth and placing a kiss over his knuckles. “Is there anywhere else you’d like me to kiss?”

With a tentative smile, he gave her a direct glance before nodding. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him but as they got closer, Harry's body tightened a little. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, yet the sight of the rosy, fluffy cushions was giving him pause. “I’m sorry if I’m not… uh… if I don’t know how to...”

She gave his cheek a comforting caress. “That’s fine, but are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.”

Harry laughed, feeling rather frustrated with himself. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. I'm just really nervous.”

“It can wait if you're not ready.” Y/N made a point of assuring him, even though she had a feeling that waiting wasn't what Harry wanted. He was just nervous, which was totally normal for someone who was about to get their first kiss. The most she could do was try to make him a bit calmer. “Is there anything specific that you're worried about?”

“No, I’m ready. It's just a bit overwhelming. This is all so alien to me… it’s a lot for my nervous system to handle.” Y/N couldn’t not frown a bit at how adorable he was as she listened. “I- I'm also a little in over my head, thinking I probably won’t be as good as the boys you've kissed before.”

“You don't have to worry about that, really. Trying stuff until you figure out what makes the other person melt is the most fun part.” She assured, before giving his hand another kiss. “We’ll learn that from one another, okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Upon his approval, Y/N pulled herself closer and higher, until her face was barely above his. They both smiled as she rubbed her nose against his... once, twice, and then it happened. She dropped her head just enough for their lips to touch.

Her tenderness and Harry's stomach-bursting butterflies were in stark contrast, making for a bizarre, yet fascinating combination of sensations.

They weren't quite in time with one another's lips but their kiss was free flowing. And it felt flawless, akin to a Vivaldi concerto or a Michelangelo masterpiece. There was something alarming about it too, however. Suddenly, Harry could feel the relatively insignificant seed of love that Y/N had planted in his heart blossom into a giant sequoia tree. And he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom the possibility of having shared a moment as nice with anyone else.

He was truly loving whatever love spell she was casting on his body with her kissing, which is why he couldn't help but let out a low whimper when he felt their lips unglue from her pulling away. “Why did you- why did you stop?”

“Your glasses are getting in the way.” She explained as she carefully started pulling them off his face. “Here, much better.” As soon as she was done placing his glasses over the nightstand, she raised her leg and straddled him. Well, sort of. It was more of an embrace; except she was laying on top of him. “This is okay, right? Not too much pressure?”

“Mh-mm. Better. Thank you.” Harry's face was flushed, and he couldn't stop smiling as he stared at her. She was so pretty, and her body over his felt so cozy. It was still hard to believe he had kissed her, but the tingle on his lips confirmed it was real, despite how uncanny it all felt. “I like this a lot, being this close to you.”

“Me too.” She ran her fingertips across his blushing skin. “You're so cute like this. I should’ve kissed you way sooner. You seem to like it too, don't you?”

“Mh-mm. I really do.” Harry desperately wanted more kisses from her, but he was still a little too unsure of himself to initiate. Besides, he’d really liked when she took initiative earlier and led the way so that’s what he wanted to happen again. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s okay...”

Y/N smiled at his request, but wasted no time before she leaned in to taste his lips again.

It was mostly just smooches that they were trading, but that didn’t keep her from taking a nibble here and there. Harry was very responsive to her nibbles, which she appreciated. She’d never been with a boy who got whimpery and breathy just from making out before, but she found it to be incredibly encouraging and arousing.

What made it extra hot was knowing he wasn't doing it on purpose because he knew girls liked stuff like that. It was just how his body was reacting to her. She was also well aware that her kisses had gotten him bricked up instantaneously. His warm stiffness was palpable between her thighs, despite being covered by his pajama bottoms.

If it had been any of the boys she’d kissed before, the erection would have freaked her out a bit, but as it was Harry she thought it was cute that he was so excited. He wasn't the only one feeling this way though. The damp panties she had on served as a casual reminder that she was getting quite excited as well.

Despite her wants, Y/N had been doing a great job of controlling herself… only that task became much more challenging when Harry started getting more comfortable, more intuitive, and by default, touchier. At some point in the course of their kissing, he’d started sliding his hands up her back and, on occasion, giving her hips a squeeze. He'd noticed she was pleased by this, so he worked up the nerve to lower his hands to her bum and squeeze her there too.

“Not feeling so shy anymore, are you?” Y/N playfully teased, to which Harry responded by smiling and hiding his face by pulling her in for a hug. It hadn't been her intention to rub up on him, but he’d drew her in so close that their bellies were flush together, so when she shifted next he felt it on his crotch… and moaned, all deep and throaty. They stared at each other, until Y/N turned her mouth to Harry's ear and asked, “Do you want this? want me to do it again?”

His nodding was quick. “Just don't go too fast, ‘cause uh... might feel too good.”

“Okay, got it.” She said, then held onto the pillow under Harry’s head, nails digging into fabric as she began to move slowly on top of him. Rolling her hips to press down on the bulge in his pants. The pressure on her clit was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a way to sooth some of the built-up tension, but on the other, it made her yearn for more friction.

She could feel his heavy, strained breathing against her skin. “Mm, it's too much, feels… too good. Ah-” He moaned again, once her fingers gripped at the roots of his hair.

“Shh, quiet.” Y/N covered his mouth and smiled. “I love your moans, but we have to keep it quiet.” She said, before removing her hand from his mouth and putting her lips in its place.

“I know, sorry.” Harry replied once she broke their kiss. “If I get loud again, you can repeat that hand thing if you want… it was hot.”

“Hmm, was it?” She returned her hand to his lips, but this time she allowed two fingers to go inside and prod into his mouth, that he was keeping slightly ajar for her. “That’s good, Harry. You're a natural at this, I think.” She had been straddling him with her body leaning over his, but she sat upright for a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked with her fingers in his mouth from farther away. As soon as he saw her eyes fixed on him, his lips encircled her fingers, and his tongue began to softly wriggle between them. “Mh-m... that's it. Just like that.”

As she started moving her hips again, Harry's hands shot to her waist, to hold her as she rutted against him. This gave her more balance, so she ramped up the pace, rubbing harder and faster to create the desired friction for her. The change caught up with Harry quickly, who began groan restlessly into her fingers in response. She pulled them off to let him speak. “S-slow... please go slower. If you don't, I'll-”

“Make a mess. I know. Give me your hands.” As per Y/N’s request, Harry slid his hands away from her waist and held them up between their bodies. Y/N took them, entwined their fingers together and then without warning, allowed her weight to fall forward, successfully pinning him to the bed. “I know you want to, but you're ashamed about doing it in your underwear. So, I was thinking… if I keep you like this and force it out of you, maybe you won't feel so bad about wanting it anymore. What do you say?”

“I just don't want to get you dirty, that's all. I thought I could keep it under control a little better, but I can't. It feels so much better than my hand.” Harry acknowledged, smiling shyly. “That sounds hot, though… the idea of you forcing it.”

“I know but don't worry about getting me dirty. I brought extra pjs.” She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. “So…you want to do it, then? Since you think it’s hot…”

A delaying groan rumbled in his throat before his lips parted into a broad smile, the kind of smile you make when you’re on the verge of breaking into laugher. “I’m going be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, but yeah. I want to.”

Y/N shook her head at him, grinning. “Don't. I've always wanted to do this. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine, I guess.” She didn’t give him a chance to react to her confession, as she started rutting against his cock again. This time she wasn’t being gentle or avoiding any harsh friction. Her movements were quicker and jerkier than they had been before, and she tightened her hold on his hands as well. She had a hunch Harry liked the feeling of being held down and used, so that's what she was doing.

He was shivering beneath her, taking fast breaths through his mouth as he looked her in the eyes. The poor baby couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him, either. His whimpers and groans were unrelenting, so she was bound to muffle him once more.

His now-free hand joined hers over his mouth, but it didn’t linger there for long since he took hold of her wrist and started guiding it downward. “My neck,” He pleaded lowly, his voice trembling. “…want your hand on my neck.”

She gave him a devilish smirk before grabbing his throat. She only needed to hold him still; there was no need to squeeze or do anything else. “And I want your cum,” she told him, hoping that slipping in a few dirty words in combination with her movements would make him snap. “…want to get all wet from it.”

Harry’s legs jerked beneath her. “Close,” He warned, a little startled. “So, so close…” The fact that she could not only hear him but also feel his words on his throat as he spoke was incredibly arousing. “Please…” He pled sweetly, what triggered a sudden desire in Y/N's chest to be closer. She released her hold on his throat and hugged him tight as she drove her hips into his, rutting violently to make him orgasm.

It worked.

Between her thighs, Y/N could feel his warm juices seeping through the material of their pajamas. So she kept rutting, wanting to make sure she had extracted every last drop of them.

Harry returned her tight hug all the way through his climax, and he didn’t let go after either. They remained in that position for a while, holding each other close regardless of the slightly unpleasant wetness that was binding them together. “We should probably change right?” Y/N asked after a beat, despite her lack of want to wrest away from him.

“M-hm. I’m all gross and sticky.” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna need another shower in the morning, but for now, I think I'll just wipe it off and put on new boxers. I mean if you don't mind that I don't wear pants to bed…”

“No, I don't mind. I'm gonna take mine off too.”

“Oh. That's a great idea. Sounds perfect to me.” Harry playfully quipped, before he got out of bed and started opening drawers. “Also, um… I don't know how to ask without being weird, but could you close your eyes for a moment? so I can take care of myself real quick?” Y/N said yes and turned away to give him privacy while he cleaned himself and changed. She was a tiny bit surprised that he hadn't wanted to use the restroom for that, but she figured that since it was closer to his grandparents' bedroom at the end of the corridor, he probably didn't want to risk going and waking them up. “Okay… you can look now.”

When Y/N looked at him next, the first thing she noticed was that he had on a pair of tight, black boxers. The next thing she noticed was that Harry was looking at her legs, since, as he’d probably seen when he turned, she had also stripped off her pants in the interim, leaving just her grey panties on. “What?” He smiled in response to her curious gaze.

She wouldn’t bring it up, but she could see he had grown a little hard in his boxers just from seeing her sprawled in bed with no pants on. “Nothing, you’re cute.”

Harry snorted at that. “Thanks, but you're much cuter.” He wandered across the room to where the supermarket bags were. “Are you thirsty? Do you want water or a snack? ”

“Hmm, just water if that’s okay.”

Harry handed her the water bottle and sat down on the bed next to her while she drank from it. “You didn’t cum…” he pointed out after a moment of pause.

“Oh um… yeah. I didn’t. It’s okay though.” Y/N laughed, shrugged, and took another sip of her water.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed, before scooting a little closer to her. “It must be a bit of an unpleasant feeling, no? and hard to sleep like that.”

“It is a little until it goes away but nothing that I can't handle.”

“Hm.” He hummed again, before Y/N cocked her head to kiss his lips. She’d only meant to give him a peck, but Harry changed her plans when he leaned in to kiss her deeper. He seemed really eager to continue kissing and well, she wasn't about to say no to him. Especially when he went so far as to nibble on her lip, which he hadn’t done before. He was also getting handsy with her, and she loved it. He was touching her more and focusing on the spots he'd learned she liked.

“That,” She blurted, as she paused to catch her breath. “That feels really nice.”

“M-hm.” He murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. His hand continued to grab at her as they kissed, to the point where Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t meant to but ended up moving her knees apart out of desperation. Being so blatant almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn't because she felt Harry's palm wrap over her crotch. In response to his touch, she moaned into his mouth, and he moaned back, surprised at how her moisture had soaked through her panties. “Teach me.” He asked, softly. “I want to learn. I- um, want to make you go to sleep happy.”

“That’s so nice, Harry, really. I, um-” She smiled while wiping the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m already happy.” She didn’t know what was making her so overwhelmed with joy all of sudden. She’d always known Harry was boyfriend material, but it was still nice to see how much he gave thought to her needs and happiness. And she was happy. So, so happy to finally have him like this, all to herself. “Do you want me to show you how to touch?”

“Yes please. To make you feel good.”

“Okay.” She placed her hand on top of his. “Here,” she explained once she’d guided his fingers to the spot of her panties right above her clit. “Circular motions with your fingers feel really nice, so does pressure. You don't have to focus on just that spot though… the nicest feeling is when you rub there but also all over.” She glanced at him, then bit her lip and asked, “Wanna try?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry responded, adjusting his position slightly so that Y/N could get more comfortable. They decided to have her sit between his legs, facing away from him since that would make it easier for her to lead him. Once they’d both settled, Harry began to touch her in the way she had showed him, moving his hand broadly enough to reach a little bit everywhere in between her legs. “Am I doing it right?”

“Mm-hmm, you're doing really good.” Y/N was still holding his hand while he touched her, and she was fascinated by the size difference between their hands. “Your hands are really big, which... makes it feel extra good.”

“Really? That’s nice. I'm definitely grateful for that.” He said while looking down as well. “Should I put more pressure, or is it okay as it is?”

“It’s fine but I wouldn’t mind a little more...” She could tell he was afraid of hurting her, and that’s why he was being so careful and gentle in his touching. She wasn’t planning on rushing him or constantly give him directions though, so instead she simply relaxed against his chest and let him probe at his own pace. Because, after all, even though he was playing safe, she was still thoroughly enjoying herself.

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how much pressure and speed he should be using, but eventually he pressed and swirled his fingers around her sensitive nub in a way that felt just right. When Y/N’s breath faltered he glanced at her worriedly, what made her chuckle. “No, don't worry. You didn't hurt me. Keep going like that.”

Harry smiled at that. He’d had a feeling he was starting to get the hang of it due to the way Y/N’s breathing had become more erratic and she'd begun to quiver against him on occasion but hearing it from her mouth that he was doing a good job was much, much better. He was really looking forward to making her cum. She looked so good like this, flushed and a little out of breath. She'd been staring at his face a lot from over her shoulder in the last couple of minutes, biting her lip and letting out little gasps of pleasure to let him know he was making her feel good.

“Like that. Don’t stop.” Those quiet, whispered words snapped him out of his reverie. He knew what they meant, even before she told him, “I’m really, really close.”

He'd learnt from a meme he saw once that when girls said that, boys weren't meant to speed up or change what they were doing in the slightest. So he merely focused on adding a bit more pressure, since that was something he knew she liked, and trying to keep his hand's tempo.

Despite how hot he found it, Harry wasn't very comfortable with dirty talk, but seeing her like this and recalling the perfect, filthy words she'd said to him just before making him cum, he felt compelled to give it a shot. “I can feel how wet your panties are, it’s so hot.” He whispered into her hair. “I can smell it too and it makes me want to eat you so bad. I've never done it before, but I can't stop thinking about doing it to you.” Rather than trying to sound hot, he was simply stating facts about how she was making him feel, and somehow it was working. “I wanna make you cum like this first though. From rubbing it this way, like you taught me to.”

Harry's words, paired with the precise movements of his fingertips around her pussy got Y/N right at the edge. She trembled, clutched his wrist, and strained to keep her legs open.

“Please, please, please...” She started begging out loud right before the warm pleasure bubble on her belly popped, so Harry did the same thing she’d done to him and muffled her by putting his free hand over her mouth.

He hadn't anticipated being able to feel when a girl orgasmed, but he was. He could feel the strong pulse under his fingers as soon as Y/N started to cum, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. He could also feel the damp spot on her panties becoming even wetter as he rubbed her through it and God, the smell… it was making his mouth water.

If she didn’t look so exhausted, Harry would have begged her to let him take off her panties and lick her clean, but those puffy, glossy eyes didn't permit his mind to stray any further. If there was one thing Harry understood about Y/N, it was how she looked just before falling asleep, and that was exactly how she was getting.

So he helped her into bed and laid down beside her, but his heart wouldn't let him fall asleep before he asked, “You’re staying for the entire weekend, right?” and his ears picked up a faint “M-hm” in return.

This was going to be the best weekend ever.

**

[collapsedglasshouses]

HEAVEN KNOWS I AIN'T GETTING OVER YOU || Joakim Karlsson x fem!Reader

picture found on pinterest

PAIRING: ex-husband!Jolly x fem!reader

SUMMARY: When Jolly visits you unannounced on a Tuesday night, you have no idea what it leads to.

WARNINGS: SMUT [oral sex, female receiving; unprotected p in v], possessive!jolly, ANGST, jolly and reader have a daughter together (y/d/n), MDNI, 18+

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @jilliemiw86 @justeli6 (If you wanna be added to my taglist in general, leave a comment or message me privately!)

A/N: i wrote this in one sitting and i'm so proud of it that i can't hide it for one second longer. i hope you like it! also this isn't proofread, im very sorry ._.

MASTERLIST

[y/d/n = your daughter’s name]

You thought the hardest thing you had ever done in your entire life was the process of deciding to file for divorce from your ex-husband Jolly, but he had proven you wrong. It was that he had signed the papers without an argument or fight. He had just done it.

It had stung, how he came back from a long tour, saw the papers laying on the kitchen counter and just signed them. It hurt but you also knew it was for the best. That he didn’t fight with you was hard, but it also made it in some ironic way easier.

Since you had a daughter together, he came over only on the weekends when he was home from touring and normally, he’d only pick up your daughter and leave again; not really much conversation going on between you except the necessary small talk. He was a good father and human after all, and you were glad for that.

After some time, routine came back and somewhat everything began to feel normal again. You began to date again, and Jolly seemed to live his life to the fullest. You were happy for him.

That changed when your doorbell rang on a Tuesday evening. You were sitting on the couch watching TV when you heard the sound and for the first couple of seconds you thought about not opening the door. After all, it was almost 8 PM and you were kind of scared there would be someone trying to break in or hurt you, but when it rang again you became curious.

“Joakim?” You asked surprised when you saw him standing there.

“Is it true?” He just asked and looked you dead in the eye.

“What?” You answered him confused. He looked like he hadn’t slept properly since he brought back your daughter two days ago.

“On the weekend, y/d/n said you were seeing someone.” He asked, his tone careful, yet you could sense some sort of hurt in his voice.

“Do you maybe wanna come in before you confront me about stuff that hasn’t got anything to do with you?” You grumbled at him in a sarcastic tone, which he ignored while stepping into the place you once called home together.

He walked into the living room, followed by you. There he crossed his arms in front of your chest and looked at you, disappointed.

“What do you want to here, Joakim? I don’t remember that we agreed to be abstinent for the rest of our lives.” You snarled at him and mirrored is gesture.

“Don’t you think it still hurts that I hear that from our daughter instead of you?” He responded in the same tone.

“I don’t know why you suddenly seemed to care.” You grumbled. “Since you didn’t show any interest in me for… how long is it now? One and a half years?”

“You didn’t even let me explain myself and threw the divorce papers at me. How do you think I feel?” He angrily expressed.

“I don’t even need to tell you this, but there is no other guy. I went on two dates. TWO dates, Jolly.” You answered him while ignoring how his statement stung. You knew it had been egoistic of you, but the months before the divorce, he either wasn’t at home or when he was, he didn’t even look at you. You felt unimportant, unloved, neglected. And now he was throwing around these statements. You wished he had done it earlier. You wished he would have opened up to you. The fact that he only did it because he saw the potential danger of another person in your life, hurt you so much.

Jolly took a deep breath. “I feel like we never even talked about this whole separation.”

“You were the one who didn’t ask when I handed you the papers, Joakim.” You said, your tone a lot calmer than it had been before but you still were angry. You were glad that your daughter was having a sleepover at a friend's house that night, otherwise she would have already been downstairs.

When Jolly didn’t say anything for another solid minute, you sighed.

“Don’t you think it is a bit too late to talk now?” You mumbled defeated and ran a hand through your hair. “I hope you know that I didn’t do that to hurt you. We both know it would have ended way uglier if we dragged it out longer than it already had been.”

You saw how Jolly swallowed hard.

“You know I still love you?” He almost whispered and let his hands fall to his sides. When you looked at him like that, he almost looked broken… defeated. For the first time since what felt like ages, you felt like he let his guard down. Like he wasn’t trying to hide his feelings away.

“I know, Jolly.” You answered him. “And I also know that a part of me still loves you and always will, but we both know that this isn’t going to work. At least not like this.”

He slowly took a step towards you, carefully watching your reaction. When you didn’t look reluctant or took a step back, he reached for your hand and grabbed it.

“I am so sorry that all of this happened. I thought about everything that had happened. Long before the divorce. I know how cruel I was to leave you in the dark. To not talk to you when I needed nothing but your comfort. I thought that I would get through everything by myself.” He told you with honesty in his voice.

“You didn’t have to go through everything alone. That is what a marriage is for, Jolly. I would have been more than happy to help you. I still am if you need me.” You whispered out and looked into the eyes of the man you had and still loved so dearly, and you felt how your heart hurt.

“I always need you, y/n. I need you so bad.” Jolly responded and you saw how his eyes became glossy. Without even thinking you wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him tightly. You felt how tears started to form in your eyes and it broke your heart when you heard him sniffle for a second.

When you leaned back to look at him, there was this foolish hope in your heart. The hope that you would be able to find back to each other. But your brain knew, even if you did eventually manage to do that, now was not the right time for it.

“Can I kiss you?” Jolly asked and you felt warmth form in your stomach. You knew you should have said no. You knew you should have been strong, but you still nodded.

Your lips met with a ferocity born from years of unspoken words and yearning. The taste of his mouth a bittersweet reminder of everything you had lost.

It felt like you kissed for an eternity and still, when you pulled away, it felt like it wasn’t long enough. You missed him. You missed everything about him, from his small jokes to the way it felt when you fell asleep next to him. He was what made this house a home.

“We shouldn’t.” You whispered against his lips, and he nodded. Before he could even think about letting you go, you pressed your lips against his for a second kiss. This one being much more eager than the previous one.

Slowly but surely, you stumbled towards the couch and soon you were laying under him, lips still connected as if life depended on it. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but sigh into the kiss.

It didn’t take long until his fingers curled into the waistband of your shorts and panties. For a second, he leaned back to look for consent in your eyes. When you eagerly nodded, he tugged them down your legs.

He kissed you deeply before lowering himself down your body. You shivered when you felt his breath against your core and not even a second later you felt his warm tongue sliding through your folds. He drew skillful circles around your clit. A wave of warmth washed over you as you moaned out his name and it felt so wrong and so right at the same time. You had missed him so much.

Your hand reached for his and he was quick to intertwine your fingers. Your nails pressed into the skin on his hand as your back arched in pleasure.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He pleaded as he raised his head for a second to look at you through his lashed and you felt like you could come on the spot.

“I’m yours, Joakim. I always will be.” You whimpered out and it was all he needed to hear as his head lowered again.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the waves of your orgasm washing over you, as you screamed out his name. Your vision blurred for a second as you came on his tongue. He kissed the inside of your thighs until you slowly came down from your high, before he came up to look at you again.

You grabbed his face and kissed him with such force, he feared to collapsed right on the spot. You could taste yourself on his tongue and the feeling of the fabric of his jeans against your naked cunt made you shiver in overstimulation.

In a swift motion, he turned you on your stomach and you heard how he unzipped his pants. The next thing you felt was hot kisses pressed to the back of your neck and you sighed in need. You needed to feel him, even if it was the last time.

“Do you have a condom?” He groaned into your ear.

“You don’t need one, Joakim. I’m clean and on the pill.” – “Got it.”

You clenched your fists into the fabric of the couch as you felt him enter you. A delicate burn formed inside of you as he stretched your walls. He was gentle but still you let out a small yelp as he bottomed out in one stroke. The small groan that escaped from Jolly’s lips, let you clench around him for a moment.

“God.” He moaned. “I wish I could stay inside of you forever.”

You moaned as a response.

“I’ll make you mine, even if it’s the last time.” He groaned as he slung an arm around your torso, making you slightly sit on him as he thrusted into you.

“I’ll be yours.” You whimpered and reached behind you to grab onto his hair. You moved in a rhythm as you felt the knot tighten in your stomach for a second time. One of Jolly’s hands travelled between your thighs and began to rub small circles on your wet clit.

“God, Jolly. I’m gonna come.” You almost screamed out.

“I’ve got you.” He breathed out as you felt the intense sensation of your second orgasm rolling over you. You felt how your body slowly lost strength, but you held yourself together for him.

You fell forward, leaning on your elbows as his hands grabbed your hips. Shortly after that you felt how he was twitching inside of you and he let out a loud groan as he finished inside of you, his cum filling you up until it began to drip. He grabbed the armrest of the couch in front of you to not let his weight drop on you as he mumbled out small love confessions.

For a couple of moments, neither of you dared to move. He peppered your shoulder with small kisses while you both tried to tame your breaths. Even though, you both didn’t want to, he eventually pulled out of you and got up, as you slowly laid down on your back.

After a minute or so he reappeared with a washcloth and gently cleaned you up, before helping you up from the couch and to the bathroom to go to the toilet.

After you finished and came back to the living room, he handed you your clothes and you both got fully dressed again, before looking at each other in awkward silence.

You knew what he was going to say, before he could even finish.

“Maybe, I should-…” – “Stay.”

He blinked a couple of times as his eyes lit up.

“Y/d/n isn’t coming back until tomorrow after school. You can stay.” You almost whispered and hoped he wouldn’t leave you in that state. “I want you to stay.”

“Okay.” He muttered and nodded slightly. “I will.”

As the two of you sat down on the couch, a wave of guilt washed over you. This was a forbidden taste of the past that only solidified the painful truth. You were bound by a love that could never be, at least not now…

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[manicpixiefelix]

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

Part 24.

Summary: The night of the Henrys dinner has you experiencing the extremes of friendship, as the distance between you and Farleigh only seems to grow further apart, while you, Venetia, and Felix proceed to get arguably too close.

{ masterpost }

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

Warnings: SMUT; Felix/Reader/Venetia where the reader is the literal line between this being incest and this being just an incest-adjacent-but-definitely-still-taboo-grey-area. Drunk sex, oral (f receiving), reader's AGAB is never made specific.

A/N: 9442 words. HOLY SHIT. hello again friends, there has been so many different versions of the smut scene in this chapter, but im ultimately very happy and satisfied with what ended up in the final cut (I wrote this A/N and then rewrote the scene AGAIN (5th time I think I'm now at) and now I'm happy with the set up for it too 😌). that being said, i also rewrote the scene with Farleigh because I rewatched the Henrys dinner again and the original scene, while it would make sense emotionally in one sense, the scene I ended up with now I think works better, it still works emotionally but also it means he aligns both with the film and with the extra context the fic provides, yanno? if this chapter had you thinking or feeling anythings, you know i always love to know and hear them <3

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

----

The minute you step into the dining room by Oliver's side, Farleigh shoots you a withering look. Unfortunately he's already seated, a Henry, and a Henry's Wife on either side of him, and Oliver's in your ear quietly asking where he's meant to be sitting himself. All you can do is direct him to his seat, anxiety once again beginning to bubble in your gut. When you mouth an apology to Farleigh, he rolls his eyes, and turns to the Henry on his left with a fake smile. Fuck. It had been a long time since Farleigh had been genuinely upset with you, and even longer since you'd actually deserved it the way you know you do now. All you can hope is that you get the opportunity tonight, or at the very least tomorrow morning, to talk things out with him.

Before you can get too caught up in your thoughts, however, Venetia is slipping past you with a tight smile, pinching your ass as she goes. You hear Felix, half a step behind her and having seen the moment, sigh her name with exasperation, but she just turns throws him a playfully amused smirk before she's making her way to her seat by Oliver. It is a surprise to think they'd come down together, but Felix explains quietly to you that he'd felt the need to speak to her about Oliver, about what happened. The two of you take your seats together, Felix sounding exasperated as he explains that Venetia had said nothing had happened between her and Oliver; you know Venetia's watching the two of you, even as you make a point of fixing your gaze on the array of cutlery before you.

"Ollie was right," Felix muttered, fussing with the stem of his wine glass, clearly wishing it wasn't empty, "she was so pissed she doesn't even remember coming on to him- why 's she got to be like this, honestly?" At least he sounds more disappointed than angry. When you look up, chancing a glance over at the woman herself, you see her staring right back at you. Felix is still mulling over his empty glass, but the look in Venetia's eyes as she raises a single, perfect eyebrow at you says that she knows exactly what you're being told right now.

And that she knows you know she lied to Felix.

That woman has absolutely no remorse; the way these lies are really beginning to build is making you feel even more queasy than you already were. Instead of giving her the satisfaction of any kind of reaction, you simply avert your gaze, tipping your head to the side to instead look at Felix.

"I think it's because she likes seeing you pout," you teased softly, tone light in an attempt to bring up his mood. Felix's expression immediately shifts to something both embarrassed and faintly pleased, already anticipating your praise, "it's a cute look on you," you continued, wetting your lips, "at least I think so." There's a faint blush on his cheeks now, expression almost bashful. For a moment his gaze flicks to his sister, who's thankfully looked away as the staff have begun to serve drinks, but just as quickly he's looking back at you.

"You're shameless," he mutters, trying and failing to fight off a grin.

"And what, dear Felix, would I have to be ashamed of?" Lips quirking into a smug, little smile, you take quiet joy in the snort of laughter that escapes him. You're glad to see his mood has turned around considerably before you let your attention drift away, striking up a conversation with Henry of Suffolk on your other side.

As always, your planning pays off over the course of the dinner, engaging in lively conversation with the rest of the guests, masking your nerves with a bright smile and thoughtful bouts of small talk with everyone around you. With each name and detail you remember, you see those around you growing more comfortable and amiable with you just as they grew more intoxicated. Nobody goes overboard, of course, well, at least not in a way that would be completely unacceptable, but spirits are high and the guests are more than eager when Sir James excitedly informs them all of the wide selection of songs their karaoke machine has since Venetia had asked him to update it.

"Does this mean we get to hear you attempt Crocodile Rock again, Jimmy?" Lord Henry, Sir James' godson and always a little too enthusiastic for moments such as these, is the only person in the world who you think would ever call Sir James 'Jimmy'. He's done it once or twice before that you remember, but it still catches you off guard, and the laughter that escapes you is almost undignified, not that anybody notices. Sir James himself laughs along, as the rest of the table seems thoroughly amused by the idea, though he claims he may need to open another bottle of wine before he considers stepping up to the microphone himself.

Once dinner has concluded, several of the guests, yourself included, opt to head outside briefly to smoke before retiring to the larger drawing room the Cattons used to entertain groups like this. Felix declines your invitation, choosing instead to check in with Oliver as the evening was progressing. Considering Oliver had only just stopped looking like a deer in the headlights whenever someone tried to make conversation with him, you were sure he would appreciate a more familiar moment of kindness.

You, however, were afforded no such kindness. Stepping outside, your attention is immediately caught on Farleigh, perched on one of the railings by the stairs, pointedly having removed himself from the others who had also chosen to take in the evening air. Elegant and beautiful and so clearly full of disdain, his eyes narrow as you make eye contact with him. Pulling your own ornate cigarette case from your pocket, you join him, asking to borrow a light. Silently, he offers his lighter, and you thank him quietly, feeling his ice cold gaze boring into you.

"To what do I owe the pleasure," he sneered, voice low enough that only you could catch his words, "of you deciding to finally grace me with your presence." It stung.

"Farleigh," you sighed, gaze imploring as you finally met his, taking a draught from your cigarette. But he in unwavering in his irritation. Sighing, you let your focus drop as you tried to recall the lines you'd prepared earlier, "I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am, by seeming otherwise."

Farleigh snorts derisively, letting your words hang in the air as he finally looked away, raising his own cigarette to his lips. The way he smiles hold absolutely no warmth.

"You know he's lying to you," there's a casual cruelty to Farleigh's voice that you'd heard so often in your life, but so rarely directed at you, "I don't know what he told you and Felix, but he's lying, I know what I saw -"

"I know he's lying," you admit faintly, "I believe you, Farleigh, I know you wouldn't fuck with me and Fi over something like this," you kicked the stone steps idly with the toe of your fancy shoes, trying to keep your own voice just as light, "and Ollie knows it too."

"Know what?"

"That I know he's lying," finally you look up again, meeting his gaze but having no idea what to read in his expression, "that I believe you despite what he told us."

"Does Felix know?"

Farleigh knows he doesn't by the way you immediately go quiet. There's genuine disgust in his voice when he calls you spineless, when he tells you that your so blinded by love that you can't see that this can only end badly. Part of you believes he's right, but you still try to have hope despite that.

"You don't get it," you finally huff, scowling in an attempt to hide how hurt you were by his words, "and it's not that you can't, it's that you don't want to," you jab him in the chest for emphasis, cigarette between your fingers, "because it's so much easier for you to dismiss Ollie out of hand since you've never liked him, or even bothered to get to know him. Isn't it fucking easier for you, Farleigh, to hope we turn against him so you don't have to keep putting up with him?" Lip curling into a sneer, the vitriolic way you speak surprises even yourself.

"I'm not the bad guy for giving a shit about you," his voice is rising despite how he was fighting to remain dismissive and nonchalant, "and not trusting a fucking stranger -"

"This isn't you giving a shit about me," you couldn't help but scoff, wine drunk and more than able to match his bitchy energy with your own, "you give a shit about you, Farleigh; you and your fucking pride," you spit, finding yourself altogether tired of his ongoing attitude towards Oliver and how he was trying to now mask it as altruism, "what happens if it all works out, what then, Farleigh?"

"It's not going to~" Farleigh sings meanly under his breath with that same humourless smile as before. Despite being toe to toe with you, he'd been avoiding eye contact as best he could, until now. There's something in his eyes behind the icy anger that almost looks hurt. Farleigh's voice is a whisper as he leans in, nose to nose with you, "and when it goes badly, when you let him break your heart, and my cousin's heart, when you finally realise that he's fucking using you because nothing will ever be enough for him," Farleigh's lip curls derisively as you feels hot, angry tears stinging your eyes, threatening to spill, "don't you dare come crying to me that you 'loved not wisely but too well', because I know," for just a moment you feel pinned by the intensity of his gaze in this moment as he turned Othello's words on you yet again, "and I'm fucking warning you now."

He steps out of your space, sighing loudly, as if completely oblivious to the tears on your cheeks and how he's torn your heart to shreds. But then, as always, he knows you well enough to intuit exactly how to twist the knife.

"Don't look at me like that," he rolls his eyes, "you know I'm right," then, eyebrows raised, he even has the gall to ask if you're even going to finish your cigarette, which had gone out. Shaking your head weakly, your running entirely on autopilot as you pass it over to him.

As you stand there, the air feeling too warm on your skin, your collar too tight, the taste of smoke and ash suddenly sickening on your tongue, despair wells up within you, choking you too from the inside out. Farleigh's words play on repeat inside your head, and you know you should leave, shouldn't engage further, you weren't in your right mind to begin with, drunk and a mess of emotions. But one thought sticks out, loud above all the others.

"Everyone uses me, Farleigh," you choke out, "you- you really think that bothers me?" And you look to see him shocked in the face of your teary anger.

"What?"

"If Oliver were to ask for the world, I'd give it to him," you tell Farleigh with a defiant scowl, not bothering to lower your voice as you wipes your tears roughly, "I can afford it after all. When it comes to the people I love, I can afford anything, or did you you and your pride choose to forget?" Everyone around you has gone quiet, all eyes upon the two of you, but none of them matter to either you or Farleigh in this moment. Standing as tall as you're able, you square your shoulders. Without giving him a chance to reply, you take your anger and lingering sense of betrayal as you turned on your heel and stormed back inside.

Tomorrow you were sure you'd regret making a scene, regret your harsh words and arrogance, but you had no idea how else to get through to him at the time. If Farleigh was jealous because of how loving and accommodating you were to Oliver, he'd need to get over himself. There was nothing you wouldn't do, no price you wouldn't pay, for the people who made you and Felix happy, you thought he knew this. What in the hell could ever reassure or even convince him if, after so much of your lives together, all the years and moments and love shared already, didn't make it abundantly clear that that meant him too?

Pulling off your suit jacket the minute you step through the doors, you throw it into the hands of a confused member of the staff, just telling them to put it somewhere for Duncan to take care of. However, before you can even find Felix amid everyone gathered in the drawing room, you find your focus, and your arm, snatched by a mischievous looking Venetia. Considering she and Felix appear getting along once again, you decide you have all the time in the world to humour the girl who'd never once been afraid to ask you for something she wants. Perhaps she'll be able to take your mind off of Farleigh and all he'd said. At the very least she hands you another glass of champagne.

"You've been so cold to me these past few days," Venetia pouted where she was clinging to your arm. It seems in the dim light and in her current state she is completely oblivious to the fact that you'd just been crying, thank god, "if you don't sing something with me, I'll start thinking you don't even like me." She's wearing that beautiful, dangerous grin of hers that she always wears when she knows she's on the edge of pushing your buttons about something. But in this moment Venetia is mean and pretty, and you're feeling tipsy and indulgent, so you let yourself be coerced by the sight of her smile.

"Careful, pretty girl," you teased with a smirk, letting her drag you over to Duncan who had been granted the role of overseeing song selections, "I might start believing you want me around."

Surprisingly, Venetia looks up from the song book in her hands, as if surprised by your accusation.

"As if anyone else would be half as good to me; of course I want you around, pet," and then immediately turns back to poring over song choices. It hits you in a way you hadn't anticipated, and you know part of that was due to your altercation with Farleigh. Still, it was the kind of fond sentiment Venetia was so often shying away from admitting that sometimes you genuinely forgot how much she actually appreciated your place in her life. So often it seemed that she took you for granted, and you played along because it never outweighed how much joy and pleasure you took in making her happy, even if it was often at your expense. But Venetia was just as much a masochist, and quietly loved that you so often gave as good as you got.

Duncan's expression doesn't change from its carefully controlled neutral veneer while he watches you and Venetia flipping through the song book. For a moment you recall how often you'd begged as a teenager for him to let you join the service staff at Saltburn for events like this simply so you wouldn't have to be looked at or talked to. He'd of course never let you, nor had Elspeth when you'd gone to her with the proposal. Still, he'd taken you aside during your third Summer and asked what it was about the events that made them so difficult for you. He'd been putting together detailed dossiers on the events at the estate for you ever since.

You still think you'd make a good team member for the staff, but to you, Duncan was utterly irreplaceable at Saltburn.

"Oh, this one, don't you think, pet?" Venetia asks, tugging you once more to bring your attention to where she was pointing out a Fall Out Boy song. The one where the groom finds out his bride is a whore; the nerve on her after what she did two nights ago. Keeping your composure, however, you raise an eyebrow at her.

"Thought you weren't a fan of that tragic, emo stuff," you smirked, to which Venetia rolled her eyes, scoffing for you to pick one then, "what about ABBA?" You suggested knowingly, "everyone loves ABBA" Despite her attempt at remaining put out by you, her mood picks up when you at least tell her she can pick the song, and she's grinning with an almost childlike glee at the idea. Still, you know you don't have to worry too much, there's only one ABBA song you know she'll pick.

As Venetia's adding her song selection to the list, your focus finally drifts back around the room. You finish your glass and note that Farleigh's finally slunk on from outside, taking up brooding in an arm chair in a particularly dark corner of the room and refusing to look anywhere but his drink. Finally, however, you spot Felix in conversation with Oliver, his arm around the shorter man's shoulders where they've staked their claim on one end of the wide, ornate sofa. For just a moment his gaze finds you, and he gives you and his sister the briefest exasperated smile, like he knows exactly what you've been talked into.

There's still a few others who have yet to have their turn, so the two of you decide to get yourselves another drink -

"Grab one for me too, will you?" Felix calls after you from where he'd settled himself on the sofa.

"Of course, my darling, useless brother," Venetia practically sings back, swanning past him with an arm once more firmly tucked in yours.

"Thank you, Vee, I love you too," you think you can hear Felix rolling his eyes fondly. Still, Venetia's giggling as the two of you make your way to the drink caddy in the corner of the room.

Venetia snickers quietly, barking at you so low only you could hear as you poured Felix a glass of champagne after your own, and a third for Oliver too. But you don't have it in your heart to be mad, and grin as you knock your shoulder with her's.

"Watch yourself, Ven," you warned her playfully. Her laughter lights up the little corner of the room you both occupied. Your lingering reasons to stay mad at her regarding her tryst with Oliver seem to be disappearing faster as the night went on. It almost definitely has something to do with the drinks, but you can't seem to bring yourself to mind.

"Why would I need to watch myself when I've got you to do it for me again," and she gives a little twirl as if to emphasise, which becomes twofold when you catch her by the elbow to steady her as she almost over balances, "see?" Her voice is low and flirty, stepping into your space as she picks up her champagne glass, "so don't get all bitchy again," but her tone is sweet when she teases you, "I need my knight in shining armour."

"It's called consequences," you chuckled, though you still let her wind her arms around your neck in a gesture that would be far too intimate for even this secluded corner of this setting if most everyone else weren't also inebriated, "if you insist on jeopardising mine and Fi's happiness you'll have to learn to take care of yourself."

"But you like being good to me," her smile is sharp and she leans in, her forehead against yours. This rare, unashamedly needy side of Venetia was really quite endearing. Groaning, you allow yourself to give in for just a moment, kissing her quickly.

"God fucking help me, I do," you agreed with a vaguely frustrated huff. Venetia actually giggles, tells you this is why she loves you, and send more than happy with this result to let you both get back to the task you'd been at the drinks caddy for originally. It seemed no one had taken any real note of the intimate moment in the corner of the room anyhow, it kind of just seemed that that was how this night was progressing all around.

When you get back to Felix and Oliver, both with a drink in each hand, she drapes herself rather inelegantly on the arm of the sofa by her brother after she hands him his drink. Oliver seems surprised when you hand him one too, looking at you, leaning against the back of the sofa, with this wide-eyed look of gratefulness. The four of you watch with quiet amusement as one of the younger wives of the Henrys makes a decent attempt at Total Eclipse of the Heart.

"What'd you end up deciding on?" Felix murmurs loud enough for only your little group to hear, and Venetia giggles when all she says is the name of the band. Felix's smile grows wider, turning fond as he looks from her, to back at you. When he makes a noise of understanding, even you can't help but grin, despite how Oliver's voicing his confusion. All Felix can respond with is, "it's a very old, very stupid joke," which Venetia immediately scoffs at, reminding him that it's 'our song' in reference to the three of you.

As they bicker about whether or not it's stupid - you're of the opinion that it is, but that's part of the reason why you love it - you lean down to murmur to Oliver with a smirk;

"Does Your Mother Know?"

As the realisation hits him, a startled laugh escapes him, his hand coming up to cover his sudden smile. Felix turns to him, leaning his head against yours, asking Oliver now to weigh in on whether it was stupid.

"Dunno; does she know?" He grins in return, eyes shining in the low, golden light of the room. You, Felix, and Venetia all burst out laughing at that, earning a scathing look from the man who'd just stepped up to take the microphone, and the four of you loudly try to both apologise and shush each other while unable to fight off your collective giggles.

By the time you and Venetia step up to the microphone, you have no idea where your jacket is, the top few buttons of your fancy jumpsuit are undone, and you can't stop smiling. It's as if your earlier altercation with Farleigh is almost entirely forgotten. For a moment, everything's easy again, everything's okay and bright and Venetia is by your side as the two of you pass the mic back and forth between you both. It's the most lively song of the night so far, and you can see Elspeth laughing into her wine glass as she watches you both with fondness.

A song that had once been put on by Venetia herself in an act of malice, blasting it from her little, portable CD player when she'd caught you and Felix making out by the lake as teenagers, had since developed into the soundtrack of countless bright memories. The three of you had cheered when it had come on in a club in LA none of you were old enough to be in, it was always on road trip mixtapes, and had been played throughout various hotels all across the world as you'd been getting ready together to go out on the town.

It was your song after all.

All you could think in this moment is how much you hated when Felix and Venetia were on bad terms.

When the song ends, there's a smattering of applause. You pass the microphone over to the next singer as Venetia takes your hand and pulls you back over to Felix, who's regarding you both with amused exasperation. Oliver's gone to get himself another drink, Felix tells you as Venetia drapes herself on his lap, and you take the now vacant seat beside him.

"God I haven't heard that song in ages," Felix snorts, arm around Venetia to keep her steady as she gets herself more comfortable.

"We should go clubbing again," you insist, head resting on Felix's shoulder, tucked up against his other side, then, "Vee, you should come visit us at Oxford some weekend!" However both Cattons beside you scoff dismissively at the thought.

"God, I wouldn't be caught dead at some dreadful, uni, bar night."

"That's mean, Ven, they're fun!" Felix's dismissal immediately turns to playful indignance, "I'm more worried about your bursting into flames the minute you try to step foot on campus."

"Why would I burst into flames?!" Venetia's eyes went wide, but Felix looks equally as bright and shocked.

"Because that's what you said would happen when mum asked you if you'd ever consider enrolling after I got accepted!"

Venetia's mouth snaps closed, embarrassed smile and faint flush giving her away as her own words seem to be coming back to her.

"Oh yeah," she mumbled, "right," then, after a beat, she looks to you, "do you have any smokes on you, pet?"

"For you, Ven, always," you teased, feeling all kinds of contented and warm in this moment, by their side. Pulling your pocket book out of your pocket, you offer one to Venetia before apologising for not having a lighter. Felix tells her he's got it before she can even stand, and grunts as he tries to keep her balanced on his lap while reaching into his own pants pocket to pull out a little, ornate lighter. He flicks it open, holding the flame aloft for Venetia, who rolls her eyes as she lights her cigarette off of it.

"I still can't believe you have a formal lighter," she snickers.

"I only ever use it here," Felix grins to himself, gaze fixed on the silver lighter in his grip as he flips it open and closed, "honestly I don't even think I'll bring my suit back to Oxford this semester, I only wore it once, and Y/N knows where we can hire them."

"Of course they do," Venetia gives you a knowing smile, and you simply shrug, your mood unable to be ruined by anything, even canine allegations, in this moment.

"At least I'm consistent," you smirked, and Venetia reached over, her tone both saccharine and teasing as she scratches beneath your chin and calls you 'good doggie'. Felix groans at that, as he always did, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

"Why've you've always got to ruin things, Vee?" He asked, exasperated, but Venetia simply leaned further into him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders with a blithe smile.

"I haven't ruined anything, Felix; do you think I've ruined anything, pet?" Venetia's sharp gaze turns on you, and Felix turns his face to look at you too. All you do is shrug; right now you were taking her degrading nickname as a compliment.

"I can't believe you put up with her," Felix snorts.

"Because you haven't tasted the dog treats she buys me," you counter without even really thinking, though the minute Venetia starts absolutely cackling and Felix looks at you in absolute, horrified disbelief, you clarify, "I'm kidding, oh my god, Fi, I'm totally kidding!" Which thankfully is enough to alleviate his concerns, and he's then laughing just as hard as you and Venetia.

The others are looking at you again, the three of you lost in your own little world, but you can't even begin to care. Everything in this moment is warm and familiar and right. Your anxiety over events stands no chance when you're drunk and laughing with the Catton siblings by your side.

These were moments you loved. These were moments where you felt loved, where this house felt like your home. These were your people, Felix and Venetia, Farleigh too more often than not, and you knew, if given time, you could make Oliver feel just as loved, just as home as Saltburn had long since made you feel. But Farleigh and Oliver were far from your mind tonight; Oliver hadn't returned, and Farleigh was keeping his distance from you, and Venetia had kicked her legs out over you as your focus drifted back to the guests providing entertainment, trying to be a little less shameless, as Felix had so rightly called you earlier, about your love for them both. That being said, at least you weren't the only one... Why Henry had thought taking off his jumper like his rendition of Apple Bottom Jeans was a strip tease was beyond you, but at least it was amusing.

"Fuck it, I'm getting another drink," Felix announced, gently tapping on Venetia's thigh to indicate for her to finally get up and move. When she mentions that she could use one too, Felix is already offering you a hand, knowing you'd be coming along too.

The three of you make your back back over to the drink cart in the corner, all tipsy enough to enjoy bopping along to Henry's questionable singing to the catchy tune, each collecting another flute of champagne. Gaze scanning the gathering, your eyes zero in on the what you recognise to be Farleigh and Oliver together on one of the sofas facing a wall adorned by several royal portraits. Something about the sight, after your earlier conversation with Farleigh, makes you uneasy, and you find yourself finishing your drink quickly, turning back to the siblings in an attempt to distract yourself. Venetia's more than willing to pull you in to dance with her for the moment.

But then you hear it, and your blood turns cold. There's something about hearing Farleigh's voice rise brightly above Henry's singing, bringing the embarrassing display to a close, that makes a strange, guilty kind of anger flare to life in your chest.

Turning back, you watch with a dawning almost horror as he volunteers a clearly reluctant Oliver for the next song, one he is choosing for him. Unfortunately you know Farleigh too well to assume it's anything other than some sort of trap for your poor friend.

And much to your chagrin, you're right.

Oliver stumbles awkwardly through the lyrics he clearly doesn't know in front of a less than lukewarm audience. He doesn't seem to realise exactly what he's singing, that it's all a cruel joke, until -

"I love you-" Oliver's voice falters, falls as the next words flash up on screen, "you pay my rent."

But Farleigh's not looking at him, even as Oliver calls him over, tries to salvage the situation, insisting with as much ire as he can despite clearly being embarrassed, that it's Farleigh song too. Farleigh's looking at you, something vindictive in his gaze before he turns away, agreeing without hesitation, stepping into the spotlight without a shred of concern despite the song and it's less than kind implications.

That spiteful fucking asshole!

"No," leaves your lips as an involuntary, furious gasp. You don't even realise you make a start towards him until you feel Felix's hand holding your arm firmly, as if anticipating you better than you can.

"That's..." Felix doesn't have the exact words for it, part of him not wanting to believe his cousin was truely being malicious, but you knew better. Still, clearly he was as disappointed as you were angry.

"Come on, it's -" but Venetia stops laughing and just sighs when both you and Felix turn on her with less than approving looks. She rolls her eyes, arms crossed delicately over her chest as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm so fucking done with this," you hissed furiously, stalking out of the room. As much as you love Oliver and want to reassure him, you're in absolutely no state to do so.

While you don't exactly expect the Catton siblings to give up the remainder of their night for you, there's still a swell of gratefulness when you hear Venetia's heels against Saltburn's floorboards as she trots after you.

"You know usually -" you begin to rant, absolutely seething with rage as you blew past several bemused members of staff ferrying food and snacks to the drawing room, "- and yeah, I'll own up to this - usually it's my fault that I don't have fun at events like this," you turned on your heel suddenly at the bottom of the red staircase, feeling particularly dramatic and petty in your drunken fury. Venetia catches herself before she can run into you, watching you, letting you rant with amusement in her eyes. Not that that deters you in the slightest, "he's so petty, so fucking petty and vindictive."

"You know how Farleigh gets," Venetia's voice is still warm, despite your fury.

"Yeah, he's entitled," you hissed venomously, "I love you all to death, but you really all can be so fucking entitled, yes, including you," you added without a moment of hesitation.

"What'd I do?" Venetia laughed brightly, but you narrowed your eyes at her. She knows what she did. In the next moment, as if suddenly remembering, she raises her hands in mock surrender. But there's a softness in her eyes as she gently lowers her hands to your shoulders, reassuring you that they all loved you too.

Behind her however, coming out of the drawing room, Felix is approaching with a less than enthused expression.

"Ollie won't talk to me," he's actually pouting, "says he's fine," clearly Felix doesn't believe him, "says he just wants to be left alone," clearly Felix doesn't like that either.

"Y/N's calling us entitled," Venetia supplies with a candid kind of amusement. While Felix's expression turns to confusion, you groan loudly at her antics and turn on your heel, throwing your hands up in the air with exasperation as you head back through the house towards your bedroom, fully retiring from everything that has happened tonight.

"What are we being entitled about?" Felix asks, trotting behind you with his sister in tow. You don't dignify it with an answer, but Venetia snorts.

"Them, I assume."

"Oh," Felix contemplates for a moment, before picking up his pace to match your stride, "I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"It's fine, Fi," you sighed, taking his hand as he walked in step beside you, "I'm mostly just mad at Farleigh -"

"How come you're all understanding with Feef, but I get my head bitten off?" Venetia stepped up to your other side, tone incredulous as she keeps up with you both, "you'd let him get away with murder!"

Felix sticks his tongue out at his sister with a petulant kind of glee.

"God, I'm so tired of taking sides," taking the steps up to the second floor, you huff a long, world-weary sigh, "I just want to forget this night ever happened, honestly."

"I can help with that," Felix's tone is laden with smug innuendo, and finally you feel yourself beginning to relax, giving his hand a squeeze. Beside you, Venetia is quiet, but you can tell she wants to say something. Apparently Felix can tell too, however, as less than a moment later he says, "come on, out with it Vee, what've you got a problem with now."

"Will I be called entitled again if I say I'd appreciate their company tonight instead?" Venetia bites back at her brother as the three of you come to the end of the blue room and step into the long gallery. Felix's grip on your hand grows just a little tighter; you know he's trying to come up with some kind of response that doesn't make him sound entitled to you too.

"Don't make me choose," you muttered finally when you get to your bedroom, forehead pressed against the door, "please, I just want to be good to you both, you know this," then after a soft sigh you hear yourself whisper, "I just want to be good."

After a beat, Venetia laughs airily.

"Careful about what you're implying, pet," but she actually sounds coy when she says it. It hits you a moment later what she means, and though you initially tried to deny it, Venetia can't help herself but continue, "I mean, I know our family's blessed with good genes, but -"

"Venetia, you're the one who asked if I think about Felix when I fuck you," you turned on her, feeling altogether flustered at the idea and desperate for her to stop talking. Venetia turns bright red, letting out a mortified shriek, but surprisingly Felix is grinning at you.

"Do you?"

"I..." but you can't look either of them in the eyes, "not usually -"

"Ha!" Felix immediately turns to shout in his sister's face, but despite this, Venetia lights up as if thoroughly vindicated.

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" She crows with a delight neither you nor Felix had seemed to anticipate, "'He doesn't have a cunt, Ven'," she parroted your own words back at you from long ago in a mocking immitation, "god you were so fucking smarmy about it too, I knew you were lying!"

"I wasn't being smarmy, I was trying not to hurt your feelings!" You couldn't help but laugh, given the situation, however Venetia, head held high, barges right past you, opening the door.

"What hurts my feelings, pet," she tells you suddenly sounding incredibly matter-of-fact, making herself at home on the edge of the bed, looking at you both still in the doorway, "is that I'm pretty sure you're better when you go down on me while you're thinking about Felix," she gives her words a moment to settle in before emphasising - "like distinctly, probably measurably better."

When you turn to Felix, you're not quite sure exactly what you're anticipating, but it's definitely not for him to be looking as ridiculously smug as he does at that moment. You know he can tell how embarrassed you are by this all, but he clearly is taking it as a personal victory.

"For the record, I'm not shit at giving head when I'm not thinking about you."

That stupid, beautiful, smug bastard just grins wider at you.

"Obviously you're good," Venetia rolls her eyes, "we both know I've put too much time into this part of our friendship for you not to be, but," she pauses, wetting her lips as she waits for you to look back at her. When you turn back she's leaning back on her hands, wearing a surprisingly similar, pleased look as she very obviously leers at you. Of course you both already know the answer, but she asks anyways, just in the hopes of hearing you admit it; "I'm right, aren't I, Y/N?"

"Why does it even matter?" You tried weakly, unable to look at either of them as you made your way to the dresser to start removing your jewellery.

"It's a matter of principle," Felix, why, you think to yourself when you can hear his big, dumb grin in his voice. It's enough to remind you that you're all still rather drunk, but not enough for you to stop the conversation from heading in a very dangerous direction at full speed.

"No, Felix, shut up -" Venetia orders almost immediately at the sound of his delight regarding the implications she'd put forth about you, and he protests, but she ignores him, turning her focus back on you, "you're a slut for my brother, you've made that abundantly clear," she rolls her eyes dismissively, powering on despite how you were left reeling by how casually she'd said it, "who cares, I've made my peace with it, but -!" Eyebrows raised and eyes suddenly shining with a terrifying amount of glee, she grins at you, "if my theory is correct, then after tonight, Felix can hold it over my head until I die, and I get one of the best orgasms of my life."

Oh! Okay, this was a legitimate offer. Huh. Wait. Why did it already feel like you were the last one to realise she was being serious? Why did it already feel like you were the only one left to agree?

You weren't used to Felix and Venetia being on the same wavelength... Though honestly, if quietly, you really weren't complaining the more you think about it.

As much as you fucked around with them both, had spent a countless amount of time sharing casual nudity in the field together over the years with endless teasing and occasional curious questions here and there, and had spent more than a little time speculating about Venetia's desires on your own time, you hadn't... At least, not since you were all teens, and definitely never together like this.

Yeah, sure, there had been definitely quite a few times where you'd been with one of the siblings, or Farleigh, while one - or a few times both - were there, around. Sometimes it was accidental, sometimes it was something of a dare, or a twisted game, or a strange type of learning experience, but you were dumb, horny teenagers being dumb, horny teenagers.

But there's no youthful naivety in the way Venetia's looking at you now. Surprisingly, however, Felix speaks up in favour too.

"It does mean that you don't have to choose between us," he points out, voice gentle and warm as he approaches you. You've gone still by the dresser, conflicted desire pooling low in your gut as you spent more and more time considering it. Felix drapes himself over your shoulders, voice low and enticing in your ear, his gaze focused on yours in the mirror's reflection, "and I want the chance to make you feel good after the shitshow these few days have been," he murmurs, though he can't help but smirk as he adds, "we all know you get off on being good to us too."

"Are you sure? It's Venetia," you reminded him, giving him a last chance at an out even if you know he won't take it.

"Yeah, but I'm not fucking her," he points out flatly, "and it's not like it's much worse than what happened during that layover in Dubai a few years ago-"

"You two are absolute animals for that, god, I forgot about that," Venetia practically cackled as your eyes go wide as you too suddenly recall the moment Felix was talking about, "I still can't believe Y/N's into -"

"Shut up, Venetia!" You hissed through clenched teeth, mortified at the memory of what she'd witnessed when you and Felix had gotten back from the hotel bar and toppled into the bed across from hers in the little hotel room, "you promised you'd never bring that up, on pain of death." Venetia only laughs louder. Still, Felix had a point; somehow this was much less embarrassing. At least for you.

So it takes you only a few more moments of deliberation before you inevitably give in to your collective desire. Just for a second, however, before acting on it, you find yourself seeing right through Felix's intentions and seductive tone. He of course did want to be good to you, you knew that to be true, and you did get off on getting others off, but there was a key part that he was purposefully leaving out. He knows you see it; his expression is scrunching with amusement already as he rests his chin on your shoulder, anticipating your next words -

"You really wanna hold this over Ven's head, don't you?" At your words, your bright laughter, Felix immediately breaks, doesn't even try to deny it as he's laughing too.

"I really wanna hold this over her head forever and ever, yes."

"It's not like you'll ever tell anyone," Venetia points out archly from the bed. Upon consideration, you both realise she's absolutely right, and Felix's face falls for a moment, though you pat his cheek in consolidation.

"We'll know," you reassure him, and he's bright once more, ascertaining that as long as the three of you know it's worth it; you're the only three who would give a shit in the exact, weird way he needs you to anyways. Venetia blows a loud, petulant raspberry at you both.

Glancing over your shoulder, suddenly more than a little nervous despite your excitement building too, you see Venetia still thankfully grinning. Felix steps back from you, heading to sit down by her side. The two of them now regard you with eerily similar, evaluative looks.

"I feel like Farleigh once warned us something like this would happen," Felix says with a half smile, glancing at Venetia as he pulled off his bowtie.

"Which is why - again - we're never ever telling anyone about this," Venetia says firmly, which Felix snorts a quiet laugh at as he agrees, "especially not Farleigh," reaching up, she unclasp her own sparkling ensemble where it was tied at the back of her neck. As she does so, her gaze fixes back on you, on where you were now hovering with nervous anticipation. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest very suddenly - this is not where you had expected this night to go, not that you were complaining, it was just that you didn't quite know how to proceed. God you hoped at least one of them would set up and take the lead, because there was no way you could bring yourself to even consider taking charge in this moment.

Before Venetia can even get a word in, however, Felix speaks up, teasing you in a low voice.

"Thought you didn't want to choose?"

"I didn't- I don't," you assured quickly, feeling all tipsy and giddy and nervous and excited all at once, frozen to the spot when you can't be sure which one you should be acting on, "this is definitely the perfect solution to that," you giggled nervously, beginning to fidget, before suddenly looking at Venetia in alarm, head whipping around to look at Felix, "but I'm not getting off to the fact that you're siblings, for the record -" Felix makes a noise of vaguely horrified surprised, but Venetia just laughs.

"You can if you want," she teases coyly, "if it helps." Helps you get her off, you know she means.

"Fucking Christ, Vee," Felix mutters under his breath, but you can hear his amusement. This, thankfully, has alleviated your concerns, and you grin.

"So we're all- this is -? I just- I didn't expect- are you both -?"

"I'm rather excited," Venetia smirks casually, standing and turning away from you, sweeping her hair over her shoulders as an indication that she needs you to undo the zip down the back of her jumpsuit, "part of me does honestly wonder if all those whorish noises you both make are still real," she speaks as if you're not even here, even as your hands glide over her, helping her out of her clothes.

"Hey!" Felix protests as he's beckoning you over, "those weren't meant for you!" Venetia pouts for a moment when you leave her side, but gets over it quickly, draping herself, nude, back across the bed you and Felix share.

"Se ducing the street rat?" She asks candidly, to which both you and Felix both tell her to be nice, almost in synch. In response, Venetia fakes gagging and mutters that she hates you both. Then, after a moment of deliberation, she idly mentions with a vague air of disgust that she doesn't want to think about Oliver and Felix together.

"I don't want you thinking about Oliver at all, actually," Felix says cattily as he's undoing the buttons of your jumpsuit, to which she rolls her eyes and calls him possessive, "do you want to leave?" Felix asks her with a frank, unimpressed look, "you can go if you're going to be a pain; you don't have to be here, Vee."

Venetia groans as if putting up with Felix in this moment was quickly becoming a much bigger downside than she'd anticipated, but she does agree to stay and not to talk about Oliver. Felix's expression softens then when he casts an amused look to you where you've finished making quick work of undoing his dress shirt. Once he too has you unbuttoned, you shrug off the jumpsuit, letting it pool by your feel before you kick it away. His hands hold your bare thighs securely, all bickering forgotten in this moment as he gazed up at you with nothing but affection in the way he's regarding you. Leaning in, you kiss him, unable to fight back your own smile.

"But if it turns out you're bad at fucking and Y/N's been faking it with you this whole time, I will tell Farleigh," Venetia warns sharply, interrupting your moment as she seemed unable to help herself from needling the two of you even now. Which may have been her plan all along, you realise upon seeing her smile as you both arc up with indignation at the implication.

If Felix is fucking you absolutely senseless out of spite, you all know she'll still benefit from it.

It becomes something of a blur after that, Felix rolling his eyes as he undoes your buttons while Venetia refuses to help you out of your clothes before it's a rush of sweat and sex and breathless pleasure, moments to breathe and more wine. The Cattons push and pull and puppet you for their pleasure, much to your own, and you lose track of how it should feel wrong when it really starts to feel so fucking right.

Venetia was absolutely right; you absolutely loved how spoiled and entitled they could be, especially if it's you and your body they're acting so entitled over.

Finally, on your back, legs wrapped around Felix's waist, you're bracedagainst Venetia's trembling thighs as she desperately rides your face. All three of you seem to know she's getting closer, and Felix fucks you in deep, steady strokes. But he leans forward, his hand coming to rest firmly on the back of Venetia's neck as she's gasping and panting. He pulls her close enough that their foreheads press together, Venetia, incoherent and eyes squeezed closed, and his other hand gently hold her face, thumb brushing against her cheek.

"That's it, Vee, show them how much you appreciate them," Felix mumbled encouragingly, and Venetia gasps at the sound of his voice, winding her arms around his neck, bracing herself against him as she grew steadily closer to her peak.

"You're such a freak, Felix," Venetia whimpers, as if she wasn't a completely willing and enthusiastic participant in the events, "I can't believe -" but then you whimpered against her cunt, tongue fucking her desperately as you dug the nails of one hand into her thighs, fingers of the other finding her clit and setting a relentless pace. The change had her swearing and moaning, sharing desperate panting breaths with her brother, never quite crossing that gossamer thread into something they both couldn't justify, that line in the sand neither could talk their way into coming back from.

"Let them get you off, Vee," Felix murmurs, "if you're gonna call them a dog, let them be a good one for you," you let out an appreciative noise, at his praise, keeping up how insistently, thoroughly you were fucking her with your tongue and fingers. Venetia comes with her forehead braced on Felix's shoulder, him holding her close, fingers running through her hair as she gasps and shudders, her thighs twitching either side of your head.

Venetia catching her breath shuffles back, breathing hard as she sat back against the bedpost at the foot of the bed, giving Felix the chance to focus on fucking you properly himself. In the next moment he's over you, has your knees pressed against your chest beneath him before your head has even stopped spinning from the sensations of it all. The way he's smiling down at you, all amused and affectionate - god, he almost looks proud - while his cock is deep inside of you at this new, perfect angle, its enough for you to know you won't last much longer.

"It's actually really gross how hot I find you right now, pet," Venetia's smirking at you when you angle your head to look at her, your expression one of dazed bliss. She reaches languidly down the side of the bed to where you'd left your jumpsuit, fishing around in the pocket for your cigarettes. You hear Felix's warm laughter as he presses his face against the crook of your neck, but thank fuck he doesn't stop, because you're so damn close. You've lost the ability to speak, to even really think, so caught up in the way you're coming undone under their combined attention and affection.

"You always this pretty when you're about to cum?" Venetia's voice is low and sultry, reaching out to caress your cheek with her free hand. She's sitting by you now, leaning down on her elbow to drink in the sight of you like this, "or just when Felix is being especially good to you?" And she kisses you messily, a pleased moan escaping her as she tastes herself on your tongue. Felix gasps 'fuck' against your collar, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as the feeling of you cumming around him tips him over the edge too. Venetia grins against your lips as you whimper and gasp into her mouth, hand fisting in her hair as the pleasure overwhelms you.

When you let her go, she's smiling softly, her forehead pressed to yours as you pant, trying to catch your breath, reorient yourself.

"They're always this pretty," Felix finally says a little breathlessly. Venetia laughs softly, sitting up again, though she takes your hand. Felix gently lowers your legs back to the bed before he moves to stand; you can hear the grin in his voice even if you're still to dazed to even sit up. It's with absolute bliss that you gaze up at the ceiling of stars you'd painted for him, watching the faintest traces that are still glowing.

"I think you're just always good to them," Venetia teases fondly before she gives your hand a squeeze, looking down at you, "he is, isn't he? He's such a loverboy when it comes to you, it's sickening, truly," but there's no bite to her words. There's a pleasant fog in your mind leftover from all the sensations you're still coming down from, so all you can do is beam up at her, nodding.

And when Felix laughs, you feel it light up in your chest.

"Can I borrow a robe?" Venetia asks idly, finally dropping your hand; she too stands, "my point has been well and truly proven, and I think I've had enough of you both for tonight." After Felix tosses her a robe, he offers you a hand to help you to your feet; he sounds somehow both proud and sheepish when he apologises after noticing how your legs are trembling.

With her sparkly ensemble and shoes in hand, Venetia's left the room before you even make it to the bathroom to clean up.

"Oh God," in the shower, Felix seems to be hit by a realisation that leaves him more than a little mortified, "I hope Ollie didn't hear any of that." The thought hadn't even occurred to you, and for the barest moment your expression mirrors his as your hand comes up to cover your mouth. Then, after another moment of consideration, Felix's seems to become more thoughtful than concerned as he utters, "actually," he deliberates, "is it weird that I think Ollie would be just as into that as we were?" He has a point, and you snort a laugh, shaking your head, and Felix's embarrassed laughter joins yours after only a moment more.

Unfortunately, as you would find out the following morning, not only was Oliver completely oblivious to the vaguely taboo tryst that had happened in the room attached his own, but it somehow wasn't even the most scandalous thing that had happened that night.