#it's a good thing i graduated college before this point so i have all the time in the world to fuck with this blog to get it to work

[front-facing-pokemon]

[djungleskogs]

im kinda jealous of how involved american colleges are. like your professors actually take a personal interest in you? my tutors all barely remember peoples names and most of them don’t even try. you have mandatory classes? i went to 1 class out of 13 for one of my units this semester because i couldn’t make myself go. you are failing or need extra credits? the professor can choose to give you some. maybe it’s just my uni but they do NOT give extra credit no matter what. we don’t even get supplementary assessments so if you do badly you’re just fucked. extensions go through the uni itself and not the teaching staff. you have multiple classes per subject a week? ok maybe not all colleges but i feel like if i had more than one to go to i would show up more and would also get to actually know the people in my degree. i am four years into this and i have like. 2 friends who study law and we aren’t even in the same stage of the degree. one of my old unit coordinators was american and she had such a culture shock coming to my uni because of how detached it is. she tried to structure the unit in a way that encouraged students to actually show up to class and get to know people in the classes and she had to change it because it went against uni policy.

[joshuamj]

can college just like, pause for a moment. I wanna catch up on linktober :(

[hannieoftheyear]

After All This Time (kmg)

When you're asked to be on the wedding party of a long-lost friend, you get the chance to reconnect with former classmate Mingyu, but not without your old feelings and struggles resurfacing.

✧˖* pairing: groomsman!mingyu x bridesmaid!reader

✧˖* w.c: 18,7k

✧˖* genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut, angst, it's another self-indulgent 'running away from your high school past' story from me.

🎧: still into you — paramore

✧˖* warnings: alcohol consumption, a lot of not standing up for oneself, kind of unrealistic wedding timeline (i've never been a bridesmaid so bare with me), mingyu has no flaws here because... im in love with him, this might be badly written I can't really tell anymore | smut: it's messy, and rough, face sitting, unprotected penetration (don't do this), multiple orgasms (f). lmk if im missing anything

The unopened letter stares at you from across the table. Trying to ignore it by doing your housekeeping chores is pointless. Scrubbing your toilet, doing your laundry, making your bed, and even cooking your meal preps for the entire week, nothing managed to take your head away from that stupid letter, wondering what could possibly be.

You and Olivia haven’t spoken properly since graduating high school many years ago. The last time you had a full-on conversation with her was when she told you she started seeing a new guy freshman year in college, someone who went to your same high school but never knew. Besides that, your only form of “communication” was liking each other's Instagram stories and the yearly happy birthday text. A letter from her addressed to you was the last thing you expected to see today, or ever.

Curiosity finally wins as you take it and inspect it up close. The pastel pink envelope with golden details feels sturdy in your hands, and the wax seal is stamped with two initials, O and T. The boyfriend’s name appears in your memory as the realization hits you. Olivia and Thomas.

This is a wedding invitation.

Opening the envelope just confirms your thoughts, but there’s more to it than just a mere invitation. Just below some details such as dress code and the plus one, there’s a part specifically addressed to you asking you to be one of Olivia’s bridesmaids. Your stomach turns, anxiety, and excitement battling it out in each of your organs. For one, it’s really heartwarming that she thought of you as a friend still and wants you to be a part of such a special day as her wedding. On the other side, it’ll be awkward to see everyone again after such a long time, because, weirdly enough, you never encountered anyone you knew ever again, even if you didn’t move away and still frequented same places as before.

Except, maybe that anxiety is just because of one person, who’s probably going to be more than involved in this wedding. Cassie, your other best friend.

Being a trio was never a problem. Actually, it’s probably the better friend group arrangement for you. The three of you got along immediately since the first day of middle school and never looked back. It was always fun and comfortable, you thought you had found your best friends for life. But something happened around the age when girls start noticing boys, when everyone starts going on dates, flirting, kissing, getting into relationships. That’s when you realized you and Cassie had the exact same type. It became almost like a routine: you’d notice a cute guy around school but didn’t say anything, and the next thing you know, at the next party Cassie would also notice him and hook up with him. You were sure you were in your very own Truman Show.

Was it partially your fault for not saying anything? Maybe, but did it have to happen with literally every single guy you were ever attracted to? It reached a point where you would constantly doubt yourself, compare yourself to her, was she cooler? Prettier? Smarter? Funnier?

In the end, it wasn’t her fault, and you’d never blame her for that, but for your own good and the wellness of your crumbling self-confidence, you had to get away from that situation. And you did. At least until now. But it’s been years, you’re not the same person you were back in high school, and hopefully, all of your self-doubting was also left in the past.

A sky-high, lavish building stands before you in all of its glory. You were no stranger to your old friend’s rich family, but her lifestyle always managed to take you by surprise.

Olivia wanted all the bridesmaids and groomsmen to meet and get comfortable with each other, so she and her fiancé arranged a little afternoon party at their apartment. Over the few texts you exchanged with Olivia, she failed to mention the other people on the wedding party. So during the elevator ride, you think of every possibility, who could be there that you know? With how many people from school has she kept in contact with? Will you know the groom’s friends?

The doorbell rings inside the busy apartment, and a few seconds later you’re welcomed by your old friend with a bright smile. You hug Olivia tightly, the weirdness of the situation fading away for a few seconds. Afterward, you greet everyone with a shy smile, recognizing some faces and encountering new ones. Some people are standing in groups of three or four, while others sit on the couch or a few scattered chairs, talking with each other comfortably.

“While we wait for the last people to arrive, I want to start telling you what I have planned.”

Olivia announces as you walk away slowly, and you find an empty wall by the hallway to rest against.

At least twenty minutes pass, in which Olivia doesn’t take one breath, her happiness and excitement showing through her endless words. The wedding plan is not really out of the ordinary, but the scale of things, that’s the impressive part. She has seven bridesmaids, including you, plus the maid of honor who hasn’t arrived yet, and her fiancé has the same number of grooms, plus the best man. Each of you will pair up throughout the days coming up to the ceremony, and on the big day, each pair will have matching outfits and even a dance scheduled after the couple’s first dance as a married couple. Her idea was essentially thought so no one would feel out of place and enjoy the ceremony, because it should be a happy day for everyone.

While she explains everything for the second time, you take your time to look around the big room full of people. Scanning every face, there isn’t really a lot of girls you know, but the groomsmen, on the other hand, all of them went to your same high school. It seems Olivia’s fiancé still hangs out with his same group of friends. One of them, in particular, sparks a little smile across your face.

Mingyu was the only other person you considered a real friend in school. As scary and anxiety inducing as it is to have classes without your small friend group, he made it more than bearable, enjoyable even. Becoming friends with the nerdy boy assigned as your lab partner is one of the things you remember fondly about those years of your life. He was like a breath of fresh air during all the turmoil. Would he remember you?

His eyes catch yours from across the room, and an instant smile forms across his lips. After all the years that passed, he still looks the same. He’s much more mature and fully over puberty now, his broad bulky frame being one of the more standing out new things about him, but you’d recognize that confused expression and toothy smile with fangs peeking out anywhere. Your mood rapidly improves as he mouths a ‘hi’ and waves his hand lightly at you, not wanting to interrupt the bride to be. You repeat his greeting with a growing grin, but your small interaction is cut short.

Your name catches your attention, and you turn to Olivia, “you and Mingyu will be our last pair. Is that okay?”

The relief is immediate. It might be a little awkward, but at least you’ll be with someone you know. You and Mingyu look at each other once again and then nod at her, but before she can continue with whatever she is saying, the entry door opens behind her.

“Hi everyone!” The familiar voice makes your stomach drop, “I’m sorry I’m late. My boss wouldn’t let me go.”

She looks the same too, only with longer hair and more mature features on her face. Her body language holds the same coolness, as sure of herself as she was when you were younger.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing the maid of honor hasn’t heard before.” Olivia replies to her with a chuckle.

“Oh my god! I haven’t seen you in so long!” When she greets you, you straighten your posture, put on your best smile, and hug her back. “How are you doing?”

“Hey Cassie, good, good, just working my life away!”

You joke and try to ease up your emotions. Your few words manage to satisfy her as she nods with a smile, walks away, and pecks one of the groomsmen – her boyfriend? – on the lips before sitting by his side.

The schedule is easy for Olivia to finish explaining it, so in no time, food starts rolling in, and conversations pop up between everyone, either catching up or normal everyday chats. Cassie starts telling a story about something that happened earlier at her job, but you don’t really understand it. You haven’t talked to them in so long, you don’t know what they do for a living, or where they work. You don’t know them anymore, and you’re too afraid to ask.

To the side, a couple of people over, Mingyu’s talking with the rest of the grooms' friends comfortably. You want to talk to him, but what would you say? It’s not like you were the closest of friends. You never hung out outside of the school, and your friend groups never actually interacted until now. Actually, you never told Olivia and Cassie about him. Maybe because you were afraid that if you introduced him to Cassie, he’d swoon over her like the rest of the guys you ever interacted with romantically.

An uneasy feeling creeps in on you as memories of your past fight to climb up on your memory. Feelings and thoughts you haven’t felt in years come back up, almost reliving everything in a matter of milliseconds. You need to talk to someone, take your mind off of your overthinking. Because this is not the time nor the place to get so gloomy.

You get to talk with the rest of the bridesmaids, and the anxiousness of it all starts bubbling down, and you’re much more comfortable. A couple of them are close family friends with Olivia, also as rich as her, but still really nice girls, even if a little airheaded, and the rest are friends from college.

Time passes by easily, and soon enough, the sun is already set.

On the ride back home, your mind starts spiraling again. Do you even fit in with all those people? An invite to her wedding would’ve been just fine, but a bridesmaid? You feel like a total stranger, someone from her past who’s meddling around trying to sneak into a place she purposely left behind. At least you won’t have to see anyone ever again after the wedding is over.

It is said that changing your usual routine helps improving your mood, taking another path home, shopping at a new place, sitting down at a different park, trying a new coffee order, changing the little things to feel more energized and be more productive. You wouldn’t know, because every task you complete as fast as possible to be back home quickly. So, after days of not being able to think about anything else but the upcoming wedding, it’s your only option left.

With the sky lit up with golden light, the grass and trees as green as ever, and a light breeze that prevents you from getting too hot, you walk around a park you’ve never been to before, with your new ‘hot girl walk’ playlist as a soundtrack. The kids running around the playground are the only sounds that get through your ears besides the music, maybe a bark or two as well, and the sun against your skin soothes all your worries. Damn. Going on a walk does fix your mood.

A hand grabbing your arm softly startles you, and you’re about to punch the mystery person when you recognize his face.

“Mingyu?”

His eyes are focused on your fist that was ready to hit him, and you lower it down, beginning to take out your airpods.

“Sorry! You scared me!” You erupt in a nervous laughter.

“I’m sorry! I called your name but you didn’t hear me.” He stands apologetic in front of you, looking down at his feet before daring to look back up. “How are you doing? We didn’t get to talk the other day.”

“Yeah! It’s good to see you! I didn’t expect you to be there, it was a nice surprise.” Is it too weird to say that? Well, it’s already done.

He gets the tiniest bit shy at your words, his ears turning a light shade of pink before disappearing quickly.

You notice a bicycle by his side, a cute pink helmet with glittery heart stickers hanging by the handle. He must’ve been biking when he saw you and took it off before calling your name.

“I didn’t know if you were still friends with Olivia, I didn’t know if I was going to see you either.”

You fixate on the first part of his sentence, ignoring your body’s reaction to him implying he wanted to see you.

“Oh, we’re not really that close anymore.” There’s a silence as you finish your words, as it wasn’t the reply he was expecting. “Life, you know? We just grew apart.”

It was you who stopped making an effort to talk to her, but even if it was still for your own good, you’re a little ashamed to admit it to Mingyu.

“She still asked you to be her bridesmaid. That must mean something.” Ever the positive guy, he tries to make you feel better after the sour comment.

“Yeah, it’s really nice of her.” The sun shining so bright prevents you from looking up at him, but you smile, hoping he can see it.

The slow steps you’ve been taking side by side turn awkward with silence. You wanted so badly to talk to him after the other day, but now that he’s here, in front of you, you can’t think of anything.

“It’s good that you still hang out with the guys.”

You don’t know what else to say, and the words spill out of your mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice the awkward atmosphere, his body as comfortable as ever walking by your side.

“Yeah, even though not as often as I’d like.” A regretful smile forms across his lips. “Our schedules haven’t been lining up, I met Olivia in person maybe a total of three times over the years.”

“What? There’s no way you didn’t share any classes in school?”

He shakes his head, chuckling at your surprise.

“I think I only ever shared one class with her, but I didn’t really care much about her crowd back then.”

“Wow, thanks for that.”

He means all the popular guys your friends would hang out with, and you know it, but there was always something so fun in teasing him and seeing him get so pouty.

"You know I don’t mean you.”

His shoulder pushes your body lightly to the side, and you chuckle together. It’s hard to prevent the red from rushing to your cheeks. Maybe he’ll mistake it for a faint sunburn.

“That’s a cute helmet you got there.” Your eyes point to it as a way to distract him.

“Oh, that?” He picks it up with what seems to be an embarrassed voice tone, but his actions quickly override it. He puts it on proudly and looks at you with his eyebrows raised, “my sister gave it to me when I bought the bike, gets all the ladies.”

“I'm sure it does.”

Attention from women he for sure gets, but probably not because of that thing. His tall, muscular body is enhanced by the tight blue t-shirt he's wearing. You didn’t get a proper look at him the other day, and now, standing next to him in broad daylight, you almost wish you could still live in the ignorance bliss of not knowing the exact height difference between you two.

“So, what are you doing around here?”

His words make you realize you’ve been staring for a few seconds, and you look ahead, hoping he didn’t notice. He forgets to remove the helmet, making you chuckle quietly before answering.

“I just got off from work and thought it would be nice to take a different route home.”

“That’s such a coincidence! I come here, like, almost every week to bike around.”

“Wow, It really is.”

For how long have you been avoiding this specific park for no reason? Pushing away your chance of meeting the one and only person you would’ve wanted to?

A ping from his phone alerts both of you, taking you out of your little bubble.

“Sorry I-" His expression falls as he reads the new text, “I have to get going, but it was really nice seeing you!”

"Oh, sure! I didn’t mean to hold you back.” It comes out quieter than you’d like. “Goodbye!” With a simple smile and a tiny wave at him, you turn around.

Right when he gets on his bicycle again, before he starts pedaling, he looks back at you, taking your first step in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” When you turn around, he’s taking his phone out of his front pocket, “Can I get your number?”

The both of you blush at his words, and you look up at him cautiously.

“So we can catch up and, you know, get comfortable with each other for the wedding.”

You had already forgotten about that. The reason you even met him again in the first place.

“Sure!”

Your hand trembles slightly when you take his phone, and you mentally beat yourself up for it. It’s just your number! It could mean nothing.

“I’ll text you later so you can save mine.”

And with a wink, he’s off to whatever he was late to.

Great. Now you’re not only re-living your high-school anxieties but also your high-school crushes.

During the following days, you find yourself checking your phone more often than ever, always with the hope that you’ll get a new message from Mingyu. Texting almost every day since the encounter at the park, the time when you’re both free to talk has become your favorite part of the day.

It started shyly, merely updating the other about your lives since finishing high school, your jobs, and hobbies. But as time passed, the never-ending conversation eased onto your daily routines. You’d wake up and text Mingyu, update him as you arrive at work. Lunch, break, evening, clocking out, dinner. Every little free time you got, you’d text each other back and forth.

A text notification cheers you up constantly, thinking that it could possibly be him again. But it’s not always the case, like this time.

It’s Olivia reminding you that, in exactly 29 minutes, you have the dance rehearsal with all the maids and grooms. Half an hour, and you live 1 hour away from the studio she rented. A little white lie never hurt anyone, so you tell her something came up and you'll be just a little late.

You love weddings, but if you had to choose one thing you don’t like about them, it would definitely be the dancing. You can’t dance for shit. You’d tell your right leg to move forward, and your left leg would move backwards, like your body can’t comprehend instructions when they’re related to dancing. Usually, you stay in your seat, choosing not to embarrass yourself in front of all the guests, but this time, you can’t get out of it. Poor Mingyu will leave the class with at least five bruises on his feet from you stepping on him.

The dance studio is part of a new, contemporary looking building on the exact geographic center of the city, a place you would always pass by but never thought you’ll get to enter. Standing at the front desk, over half an hour late, you feel too out of place. Your clothes are probably wrong, your hair is completely disheveled, you don’t remember on which floor is your class, and you don’t even know the name of the dance teacher.

After a long discussion with the receptionist, she finally understands what you’re here for and lets you go up to the 13th floor.

The walk from the elevator to the studio feels longer than it actually is. Three to four footsteps become long, slow turtle-like steps. But not even the infinite time you spend taking four steps prepare you for your stomach to drop down to the basement at the sight of Mingyu dancing with Cassie as soon as you open the door.

His hands on her waist, her arms around his neck, dancing slowly in circles, laughing about something she just said, you can almost hear something inside you break. After all this time, nothing really changed.

“Hey! You’re finally here!”

Olivia’s voice brings you back to earth.

“Hi! I’m really sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.” The dance teacher gives you a look, and you lower down your voice, “So how is this going?”

“We had to put them together,” she points the dreaded pair, directing your eyes to them once again, “because neither you or Tyler were here when we started, but after the song’s over you can join him and I’ll practice with Cassie, okay?”

You nod with the best spirit you can manage to express.

“Is Tyler the guy she was with the other day?”

You don’t forget to whisper so the class isn’t interrupted by your chatter.

“He’s the only one of Tom's friends who’s not from school, don’t worry, you didn’t erase him from your memory.”

You stifle a laugh before it gets loud.

“Good, I was starting to feel bad about not recognizing him.”

In reality, his existence doesn’t matter much to you either way, except for something. “Are him and Cassie a thing?”

“She says it’s something casual but, and don’t tell her about this, I paired them up together on purpose so they can finally realize that they like each other!”

Your lungs clear of air in an instant after hearing those words. She’s not available. She has a boyfriend, sort of. A boyfriend who you do not know nor have feelings for.

“Your secret's safe with me.”

“Mingyu's nice and all, but if he messes with my plan and charms her, I will personally revoke his invitation to the wedding.”

You both chuckle just as the song finally ends, yours quieter than hers. Both of them see you with Olivia, but only Cassie comes forward to say hi.

“Hey girls! Good to see you!” She gives you a little hug before directing to Olivia. “So… Tyler isn’t showing up, I assume.”

“He told me a few minutes ago that something came up and can’t come, sorry.”

Her hand flies to Cassie's shoulders to comfort her, but she doesn’t seem bummed by the news.

“Well, then, I have something to ask you.”

Her presence suddenly becomes overwhelming as she grins at you with a proposition in mind, seemingly all thought out.

“Are you close with Mingyu? Olivia told me you were classmates.”

How did she know? Maybe you did tell her about him after all.

“He used to be my lab partner. Why?”

“How did you not crush on him back then? He’s such a cutie.”

“I probably did, I don’t remember.” Lie.

“Could you find out if he has a girlfriend, pleeease?”

A buzzing sound is all you hear for a few seconds, like your brain forgets how to function. Words don’t come out, and you’re freezed in place as Cassie looks at you expectantly. To the side, Olivia looks just as puzzled by her request.

“W-why?”

“Because, he’s really hot and, if I need a quick rebound because of that other fucker, I need to know I’m not messing with a relationship.”

Silence is all you produce once again.

“I just need a tiny bit of info, and it’ll be weird if I ask him directly, so could you please try?”

“Sure… I’ll try, but I’m not promising anything.”

You’ve never sounded less excited about something in your whole life. You love some gossip and some drama, but not if it involves a genuinely nice guy like Mingyu being used. Or maybe it’s just because it’s him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Cassie jumps excitedly and hugs you once again, just as the dance teacher calls for everyone to gather.

Mingyu’s hands slot carefully at the sides of your waist, guiding you swiftly and sparking goosebumps across your back. Your arms wrap awkwardly around his neck, making him crouch a bit so you can look properly at each other.

“Were you always this good? Or did you become a professional waltz dancer in the half hour I wasn’t here?”

You remember him telling you the other day, during your endless text conversations, that he, like you, wasn’t particularly excited about dancing.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, that I practiced before coming here, what would that say about me? Hypothetically.”

“It would say that,” you drown out a cackle before you can continue, “you take your duty as a groomsman very seriously, hypothetically.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to think I was a dork, hypothetically.”

“You’re too late, I already thought that.”

A pout forms on his mouth at your giggles, and he flashes the world's most menacing puppy eyes ever.

“I mean it in the best way possible!”

“Isn’t it embarrassing?”

“It’s cute!”

His face shifts with skepticism, sending enough signals saying he didn’t like your choice of words.

“It’s charming!”

The warmth his body emanates wraps around you fast. His expectant eyes looking down at you and the closeness of your bodies rises your temperature in record time, your cheeks pinking up furiously. You keep talking as the nervousness takes over you.

“At least it worked! You’re a really good dancer, I’m sorry I keep missing the beats.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. You’re not that bad.”

“Now you’re just lying. My limbs are physically unable to coordinate more than three steps. You’re guiding me through every single one!”

His hands tighten just the tiniest bit around your waist, like a confirmation for the both of you that they’re still there.

The teacher’s voice echoes all around you until it finally punctures your bubble, and you’re able to hear the class you’re here for. The steps she’s explaining for a second time make no sense in your head, too many turns and moves for you (and your body) to comprehend.

“I need all the pairs to practice the final steps again.”

Only her final words make sense on your mind, and when you look towards Mingyu, his hand left its place on your body and is extended at you, his eyes kind yet concentrated back on the dance. You nod, taking his hand with an electrifying rush going through your veins.

Mingyu guides you firmly but with care, moving along the beats of the waltz. With each step, your synchronization improves, and the moves flow along easily, your bodies understanding each other. You can’t help but smile as you look him in the eyes, a familiar warm feeling bubbling up inside you.

“You're doing a really good job.”

His eyes catch yours, a little wrinkle forming by each of their sides before he cracks a smile to match yours. There’s something in the way he looks like when paying attention to you, like a spell being casted on you, making you crave more.

“It’s because it’s comfortable with you.”

Your mouth betrays you and sends out the words without checking with your brain, but weirdly enough, you don’t fear his reaction. It’s just the truth.

“We’re more in synch than you thought.”

You swear you see a glimpse of a smirk before he spins you in his arms.

As you turn and move together through the song, you think your excitement isn't solely because of the rehearsal going well. It could be simply a wish, but a spark of something is definitely lighting up. The way Mingyu holds you, attentive and confident, you can't help to think he feels it too.

“You think we can be this good the day of the wedding?”

There’s more anticipation than curiosity in your voice, remembering you’ll keep meeting until then, you’ll keep seeing him.

Mingyu reaches closer until his warm breath fans your ear and his lips graze your cheek.

“We could meet a few days before and practice, like I hypothetically did today.”

“You think I need practice?” You tease to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Maybe it’s an excuse to see you again.”

A mix of shyness and giddiness overtakes you as you giggle at his proposition. But in the midst of your interaction, you skip a crucial move and begin to turn, stepping right on one of Mingyu’s feet and almost tripping over to the side. His hand secures you by the waist, the hem of your t-shirt raised just enough so his fingers brush your fiery bare skin.

“Ok, maybe I do need the practice too.”

The teacher talks to you on the background, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything other than Mingyu’s touch lighting fires across your body, his worried eyes over your ‘almost’ fall, and his smile when he realizes you’re laughing at your clumsiness.

The music starts over, and you only realize it because his hand is extended at you once again.

“Let’s give it another try.”

“So, you didn’t get to ask him?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot about it. I was so focused on learning the dance that it slipped my mind.”

Running into Cassie coming out of the subway was the last thing you expected (and wanted) right now. Trying on dresses is the one bridesmaid related thing you were least excited about. So many hours of putting clothes on and off, picking colors, showing the rest of the girls, giving your opinion on their dresses, and listening to their opinions on yours. It just sounds so exhausting. But your mental pep talk got interrupted when Cassie saw you walking up the stairs of the station heading to the bridal shop.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“He didn’t say anything that would imply he has one, if that helps.”

More than a helping hand to her, you're starting to hope he’s single too.

“That’s good to know, thank you.”

“I don’t really get why you wanted to know, though. I thought you had a boyfriend.”

“He’s not... I mean, it’s not like, official. I wanted him to get jealous, but I'm over that now.”

“Oh, so... you talked about it with him?"

“Kind of... he just explained why he couldn’t come to the rehearsal, and I just, couldn’t get mad at him simply for that, right?”

“Right...”

You know virtually nothing about their ‘relationship’, or about him for that matter, so it’s maybe for the best to stay out of their… thing.

“Anyway, about today, do you have something in mind for your dress?”

“Not really, I was just thinking of browsing through the store and seeing what they have.”

“Wow, really? You’re so chill about it. I have a pinterest board with all the styles and shapes I like. I even checked their online store to see what they have in stock beforehand.”

“That’s… actually really smart.”

“Nah, don’t be nice. Did you at least think of a color? Olivia wants all of us to be different colors, but in pastel, obviously. I personally didn’t really care about it, but I chose pink after some thought.”

“Oh, actually, I didn't know that.”

“It’s okay, you can decide when we get there.”

“Did the rest of the girls choose already?”

“Maybe? I haven’t had the chance to ask them.”

“I hope I don’t get green then, I don’t really like how it looks on me.”

“You’ll look amazing either way. Don’t let a simple color wear you down!”

Small talk with Cassie turns out to be quite nice in the short walk you have up to the store. It's a pretty shallow conversation, but not at all stressful like you thought.

The place is really fancy looking, tall glass windows and blinding white interior. It makes you take a breath just by looking at the displayed dresses. Relieved that Olivia said multiple times that she’ll take care of everything and not to worry about the prices, you and Cassie walk inside.

You didn’t expect every girl to be already there, and you especially didn’t expect the groomsmen to be also all there. The girls browse through racks and racks of different shaped and colored dresses, and the men are sitting back, talking with one another, waiting for their bridesmaid to ask for their opinion.

Cassie goes straight to greet Mingyu with a hug. Even if he isn’t the closest one to the door. Even if Tyler is there also. And you walk behind her, slowly, shy because of all the people aware of your arrival. You give Mingyu a shy smile as a greet, and he returns it warmly.

After the dance rehearsal all those days back, you’ve been hesitant about contacting him again. There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s quite the opposite, actually. He’s caring, attentive, and kind towards you. You just don’t want to fall in your black hole of a crush on him again. especially after Cassie made it clear to you that he’s caught her eye too. Sure, she just told you she made up with her boyfriend, but her actions are already contradicting her words.

Olivia sees you with Cassie and walks quickly towards you two with a smile on her face.

“Hey girls! How do you like the store?! Isn’t it huge?”

“It’s unbelievable! I’m gonna need at least two hours to look through all the dresses!”

Cassie answers, staring at the lengthy room in awe. You can feel Mingyu’s eyes on you. Or maybe on Cassie. Regardless, you’re in his line of sight, and it gives you chills.

“Well, you have all the time in the world today. I reserved the whole store for the entire day for all of us, and the staff is also here to help us if needed, so don’t worry about asking for help!”

“That’s amazing!” You both exclaim at the same time.

“Thank you!” Cassie doesn’t look back and goes straight to the racks of pink dresses. You’re about to go and walk around as well. Maybe try to find a color that suits you, but Olivia stops you before you can even take a step.

“Wait! I got the list of the available colors left for you,” she hands you a sheet of paper with almost everything on it crossed out, “I’m sorry, I know there isn’t much left.”

“Oh don’t worry, it’s fine. I should’ve picked it earlier. It’s not your fault.”

It’s disappointing to see that only two items aren’t crossed out. Light teal and pastel green. Green and teal aren’t ugly colors by any means, but you always feel awkward when wearing them, so you’ve learned to avoid them. The back of your throat itches to close as you think about looking ugly at the wedding, in front of so many people, in front of him.

“I saw some of the teal dresses earlier, and they’re all super cute! You’ll look amazing!”

“Oh, ok, I’ll go check them out. But, just in case, isn’t there any way for me to change colors?”

“You could ask someone to swap with you.”

Your mind instantly goes to Cassie. Earlier, she told you she didn’t care which color she wore, maybe she wouldn’t mind switching with you. You spot her easily on one corner, asking Mingyu about his opinion. She looks up at him with glittery eyes as one of her hands places itself on his arm. The sight turns your stomach upside down. You want to stop watching the scene as much as you want to break them apart.

Your legs make the decision for you and walk you to where they’re standing. They don’t notice you walking over to them until you speak up.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt you guys, but Cassie, could I ask you something?”

Mingyu’s the first one to look up at you, his face lighting up as you interrupt whatever Cassie was saying to him. She’s slower, making sure to hang the dress back on the rack before turning to face you.

“What do you need?”

There's very little annoyance on her tone, but you don’t miss the way her eyebrows arch and her eyes dart to Mingyu, signaling you that she wants some alone time.

“I wanted to ask if you, by any chance, were willing to switch colors with me?”

“What happened? Which ones are left?”

“Basically, just green.”

“Oh, that’s such a bummer.”

There’s a silence when she finishes talking. You wait for her to continue, blinking at her, but she just doesn’t. Her sentence ended there.

“Yeah, so, would you swap with me?”

“I…” Her body language turns awkward as she thinks of an answer, side-eyeing Mingyu, who’s also waiting for her, but with no context to what you’re asking her.

“I just, you said you didn’t really care about the color, so I thought you wouldn’t mind changing it.”

You huff, not helping the awkward atmosphere around the three of you. Your eyes connect with Mingyu’s, who's silently watching the interaction from the side. You hate that he’s seeing you in such a state, so... desperate for something that’s not that big of a deal anyway. You need this interaction to be over.

“You’re right, I did say that,” you can already see where this is going, “but, I kinda already put my mind to it, and it took a lot of convincing to get Tyler to match with me. He already bought his suit, and I don’t want to make him mad by changing everything so suddenly, I’m sorry.”

“Oh…”

You can feel your stomach contracting, your throat threatening to close, your eyes getting ready to be filled with tears. This is so stupid. It’s just a stupid color. It's a stupid dress you’ll never wear again. Why is it affecting you so much?

“Wait, I’m sure Tyler wouldn’t mind changing.”

Mingyu’s soft voice sounds closer to you, but you can’t really see much with your eyes trained to the ground and vision blurry from tearing up.

“No, it’s fine, let’s not bother him.”

Blinking away the tears is easy, but looking up and finding a concerned Mingyu makes you feel like jelly. Cassie’s long forgotten as you focus on him, his tall figure watching over you, his hand placed on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, silently comforting you.

“I’ll go try and find something I like.”

“I can look with you if you want.”

“No, it’s fine, you can go back to what you were doing.”

You walk away, leaving him standing there, still worried about your sudden reaction. Cassie is just behind him, waiting for the opportunity to get his attention back.

But you try not to think about him or her while browsing through the store. Trying your best to be positive, to not get dragged down by a simple color choice, or by a friend – if you can call her that – that couldn’t help you.

Hours go by, and it’s easier when you focus on other things. You help the other girls decide on their dresses, reacting and applauding, helping them find new ones if they aren’t satisfied. It’s fun, contrary to what you previously thought, it’s like playing a dress up game, except every now and then, it’s Cassie who comes out on the make-shift runway, and the first opinion she asks for is always Mingyu's.

At one point, everyone has already decided, and you’re the only one left. All the girls you helped come together to try and find you the best possible dress, bringing a new one to you with hopeful smiles on their faces every few minutes.

You try them on, eager to find one and be done with it. But, even if they look gorgeous when on the hanger, they always got something that doesn’t sit right with you when you put them on. And after trying dress after dress, you grow more discouraged.

Olivia notices how tired you are and tells you that you can come back another day, alone and less anxious, but then again, that would mean stretching the situation for longer than needed. You decide to try on one more dress, one that Olivia picked specifically for you, and if you’re not satisfied, you’ll come back with her the next day.

The store lady helps you put the dress on, her sweet smile never fading, even if it’s the tenth dress she helped you put on already. The pastel green silk fabric glides smoothly over your skin, hugging you in the right places as the lady zips it up. Your back’s facing the mirror, too afraid to look in it again and find another disappointing result.

“Sweetheart, I think this is the one.”

The kind woman’s voice startles you, but her honest smile makes you believe her words. You inhale deeply, calming yourself before turning around. But instead of looking at your reflection, you walk outside the changing room and onto the lobby.

Every pair of eyes is on you the moment you step out, your arms wrap around your torso in an effort to shield yourself, and you can feel your cheeks being painted a bright red color. A few gasps are heard, and when you look around, the girls who helped you are all covering their mouths, eyes wide as they watch you cautiously strolling forward.

At the back of the store, it’s like time stops for Mingyu. Whatever he was doing, forgotten at the sight of you. He was unaware of how much your appearance could affect him. His eyes are trained on you, allured by your figure, scanning you up and down like a piece of art worth studying.

Buzz erupts all around you, mumbles and praises about your dress and how you look in it, but it’s all background noise for you. Mingyu’s heavy stare finds yours, and his ears turn a faint shade of pink. The subtlest smirk begins to form on his lips, spreading the warm feeling on your tummy all across your body. He can’t seem to drive his eyes away from you, and you don’t want him to. Your arms relax under his gaze, disarming the protective shield around you and drop to hang by your sides.

But, in a matter of seconds, the girls swarm around you, blocking all 360 degrees around you. Their positive opinions flood your ears as they walk you back to the dressing room, trying to convince you to choose this dress. You can’t look back, but you’re sure all the groomsmen left together.

Doesn’t matter. You’re definitely getting this one.

After spending the whole day shopping together, it marvels you how these girls still want to spend time together. When they noticed all the boys left, they planned an impromptu girls' night at Olivia’s apartment.

It’s amazing how they can spend hours and hours talking with each other, a few drinks here and there, never running out of topics, entertaining you when you’re too tired to talk.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you sit back on your side of the couch to read the new text.

Mingyu: hey, how are you?

Mingyu: sorry i couldn’t stay today, they dragged me to a boys night

Everything that happened a few hours ago flashes through your mind, waking a giddy smile on your face as you reply.

You: why are you sorry?

You: the girls wanted to do a ‘boys free’ night, we’re at Olivia’s rn

Mingyu: i didnt want to leave before making sure you were okay

Oh.

You: im better now

You: it was fun helping the other girls, took my mind off of it

You: but thank you, you didnt have to worry

Mingyu: good to know :)

Mingyu: next time ill drive you home

You: drive me home? Will i sit on the bike's handlebar?

Mingyu: i was thinking more like a piggyback ride

You: hmm... ill have to think about it

You tune back to the conversation before anyone notices you not paying attention, having no idea what turns the topic has taken in the time you weren’t listening.

“I think he’s definitely seeing someone.”

The girls divided into two groups with different conversations going on, but sitting in front of Cassie, you can only hear her side of the table. They might be talking about Tyler and their “relationship” problems.

“I really don’t think he is. He didn’t use his plus one you know.”

A smile forms in your mouth when your phone vibrates in your hand once again.

Mingyu: can you believe the wedding’s so close already

You: times moving so fast

You: i cant believe its less than two weeks away

Mingyu: it feels like it was only yesterday that tom told me he was getting married

“But today, he didn’t seem at all interested, he was really out of it from the start.”

“Maybe seeing dresses all day is not his thing.”

“No but like, I tried every move on him, and he didn’t even bat an eye.”

Bits and pieces of the still going conversation manage to register on your mind, and you realize they’re talking about Mingyu, unaware of your current chat with him.

You: is the boys only hang out getting boring? Its not very polite to be on the phone you know

Mingyu: theyre all playing games, havent looked my way in over 30 mins

Mingyu: besides i much rather talk with you

You: well i wont argue with that

Mingyu: you seem bored too

You: you’re definitely helping me get through the night

“Maybe he’s just not interested in you.”

Olivia teases Cassie, even though her comment is more than just a joke. But why is Cassie so adamant on wooing Mingyu if, according to Olivia, she really likes Tyler?

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Mingyu: you know what I just realized

Mingyu: I forgot the dance routine already

You: omg me too

You: we might have to meet to practice like you said

Mingyu: we can do it at my place

Mingyu: you up for it?

You: i should ask you that

You: your feet are going to suffer because of me

Mingyu: that’s a risk im willing to take

Mingyu: but I gotta warn you, I take my practice very seriously

You: sure, you can carry me back to my apartment after we're done

Sitting on Mingyu’s couch, waiting for him to get back from the bathroom, you’re too tired to do anything else than looking around his living room. It’s so him. The warm and neutral colors make everything feel cozy, with pictures of him and his family hanging on the walls – no ambiguously romantic photos with unfamiliar girls, and everything is so tidy, not one pillow out of place, even after practicing for over an hour. Out the window, you can see the sun starting to set, and the buildings across the street start lighting up. You recognize all of them. 

All this time, he’s lived so close to you. His building barely a ten minute walk away from yours. You can’t help but wonder, what would’ve happened if you kept in touch, if you just walked two more minutes to the park he frequents, or sent him a follow request on Instagram the few times he popped up on your recommended. It comforts you that at least you have this chance to reconnect with him, to make things right. 

But sounding confident over text is easy, and now, you’ve only danced for the whole time you’ve been here, barely even talked about anything else. 

It’s conflicting, the guilt of meeting with Mingyu behind everyone’s back – even if it’s no one’s business –, the excitement of seeing him alone after weeks of only wedding related stuff, and the actual need to practice the dance so you don’t embarrass yourself, all colliding in your mind, making everything awkward for you. 

Like ten thousand spectators, the windows of every apartment watch you through the glass, just sitting, waiting. Mingyu left only a couple of minutes ago, but after the many times you stepped on him, you wonder if he’s actually hurt. 

“Are you okay? Tell me if I need to call a doctor for your feet!” 

You shout with your head looking towards the bathroom door. His chuckle travels all the way to your ears before he opens the door. 

“I’m fine, I swear.” 

As he comes out, your body tingles with nervousness once again. He sits beside you on the couch, unknowingly making your head spin. 

“You sure? I don’t think feet are supposed to withstand all of that.” 

“I’m okay, just tired, why don’t we rest for a bit?” 

They way he sits, on his side, facing you, and his arm resting on the back of the couch, your eyes can’t help but wander to where his arm muscles start showing. Every variation of the phrase “butterflies in your stomach" could describe the way you feel as he watches you, paying so much attention that you mumble your next sentence. 

“This couch is way too comfortable. It makes me want to just stay here the rest of the day.” 

“Let’s do it! We can even have dinner here. If we order take out, we can tell them to leave it at the door.” 

“That sounds nice, but one of us will have to go get it.” 

“When my roommate comes home, he’ll bring it inside for us.” 

“Oh my god, you have a roommate? When is he coming back? I don’t want to be a bother.” You look towards the entry hallway, like he’s about to come in and kick you out. 

You really don’t want to leave, Mingyu’s company is already becoming one of your favorites, but you hadn’t counted on being around another person, and in their home for that matter. You start to get up from where you’re sitting, worried about having overstayed your welcome, but Mingyu’s hand grabs yours softly and drags you back down. 

“I invited you here. It’s not like you’re trespassing.” 

“But I’ve been here for hours, is it not too much?” 

“I guess I don't want you to leave.” 

His hand hasn't let go of yours, his skin against yours waking up your whole nervous system. You like how it feels when he’s looking at you, but you can’t help feeling too observed under his gaze. 

“Should we practice one more time?” You get up as your other hand takes Mingyu’s free one to try and get him off the couch too. He doesn’t fight your push, but you still struggle to move him barely an inch. 

“Now that I think about it, my feet do really hurt.” 

When he stands up, your hands dreadly separate as you go press play on the song you had paused earlier. 

“You’re a big and strong man, you can handle one more dance.” 

The music starts slowly, and when you turn around to go where Mingyu’s standing, he’s quick to put his hands around your waist and bring you to him. 

Like that day in the dance class, your bodies are quickly coordinated. You’ve been over the same dance for over an hour now, so at this point, every step is engrained in your muscle memory forever. 

“Why don’t you take the lead on this one?” He might’ve felt your sudden confidence in the moves, but fails to realize it’s only because you’re doing it with him. 

“Do you have a death wish? The last time I tried to take the lead on a dance like this, it ended really badly.” 

“But you’re doing good now! I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad.” 

“Don’t you remember the senior prom? When I made my date trip and he fell onto the chocolate fountain? He got completely covered in melted chocolate.” He shakes his head, making you more confused. “He dislocated his shoulder. You really don’t remember? 

“I don’t-” He chuckles at your story but stops his words when he realizes you don’t get what he wants to say, “We left early.” 

“Oh… I guess you had a good time with your date.” Thinking about him with someone else puts a bad taste in your mouth. 

“I didn’t have a date, I went with the guys.” Somehow, that’s less believable than you being a good dancer. 

“I vaguely remember seeing you dance with a girl. Is my memory failing me?” You remember because you hated it. 

“Maybe I did dance with someone, but I couldn’t score a real date.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I am! Why don’t you believe me? 

“Because I knew at least ten girls who had a crush on you back then.” 

The dance is already forgotten. None of you make the effort to go over the moves. With your arms hanging around his neck and his hands holding on to your waist, you’re just going around in slow circles, eyes connected as your talk turns into something more. 

“Well, I wasn’t interested in them.” 

“But still, you could’ve easily gotten a date.” You could let the subject go, and maybe you should, but you really want to make your point. “I would’ve gone with you.” 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” 

“But I mean it.” 

“You wouldn’t have gone with me.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Yes I do!” His tone gets serious, and it just makes you more desperate to make him understand. He needs to know he’s wrong. 

“No, you don’t! You would know if you had asked!” 

“I wanted to! 

You stop in your tracks, looking straight into his eyes, seeing little hints of shock on his face as he realizes what he said. If your bodies were closer, you’re afraid he could feel that you stopped breathing for a second. 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Because I knew at least ten guys who had crushes on you back then,” you’re about to shut him off, but he continues, “and you did end up going with one of them.” 

“So, you did see me.” 

“Yeah, didn’t stay much after that."

None of you know what to say, as your minds work tirelessly to understand what this conversation means. 

“You really should’ve asked me.” There’s so much more you want to say, but you simply can’t. 

“You were kind of popular and, I don’t know… It messed with my head.” 

“I didn’t care about those stupid labels, and I thought you didn’t either.” 

“I know you didn’t, but I wasn’t a confident kid back then, I couldn’t just go up to the girl I liked and ask her out.” 

Your jaw reaches the floor after hearing those words. The girl he liked? 

Speechless for a few seconds, you can only look at him, trying to figure out if he meant to say those words specifically. He seems to be proud of what he said, showing no sign of regret. 

“So, now that you’re all grown up…” you dare to let your fingers caress the skin at the base of his neck, and his hands tighten around you at the touch. 

“One would think that, after so many years, things would’ve changed but-” 

“I don’t believe you’re not confident by now.” 

“That did change, but apparently, other things didn’t, even after growing up.” 

He tilts his head to the side cockily, his piercing gaze making you feel hot all over. 

“Maybe some things aren’t meant to change.” Like an adrenaline rush, it’s your turn to feel confident as one of your hands starts playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I'm starting to discover some things are not that different for me either.” 

“Could it be, perhaps, the same thing I’m talking about?” His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him little by little. 

“Hmm, I don’t know, you’re being very vague, I could be talking about still enjoying country music.” You joke so he doesn’t notice your heart beating twice as hard as normal. 

“I think you know what I mean.” His smirk is one new thing about him, not that you’ve never seen it before, but the reason behind it makes it way more thrilling to see now. 

“I want to hear you say it.” 

“You really didn’t know? I mean, back then, I always thought I made it obvious.” His chuckle sends shivers down your spine. 

“I wish I did.” You can’t help but think about how your life would be if you made a move on him all those years ago. “But I never said anything either, I was shy too.” 

“Good thing we can make up for the time we lost.”

His droopy eyes send you down a spiral you have a hard time coming back from, all your insides becoming putty, feeling his want through his embrace, but there’s still one more thing to get to. 

“You know… you say you’re so confident now and whatnot, but I still haven’t heard you say it.” The look you give him is all he needs 

“Fine, you win, I used to like you, and seeing you again made me realize I still kinda really do, I’m always eager to get your attention and to spend time with you.” He pauses to take the quickest breath ever, all while you’re losing yours. “I know we’re not the same people as back then, but if you want to, we can get to know each other, again, more mature and less stupid. I have my regrets about how I handled my feelings in the past, but I won’t make the same mistakes again. And I will ask you on a date after the wedding, just a heads up.” 

“Wow, I was fine with just an ‘I like you’, but it’s nice to see you’re just as down bad for me as I am for you.” You confess with a joke because, how can you possibly answer that? Your brain is barely receiving enough oxygen as it is. 

“And one last thing, I really, really, really, want to kiss you right now.” 

“Then why are you not doing it?” 

It takes a second for the words to register in his head. A second where you only look at each other, almost not believing what’s happening. The air around you gets so thick, so hot, almost unbearably heavy. And just when your hands begin to push his head your way, his lips attack yours.  

All the resurfacing feelings come to life, colliding like a thousand stars that have been running to meet for millions of years. His arms around you bring your body closer to his, forcing you on your tiptoes to follow his lead while his hair tangles between your fingers. 

It's surprisingly slow, yet hungry and desperate, making the other feel everything through the connection of your lips. You move along with him naturally, and when he bites your lower lip as a request for access, you don’t hesitate. His hands creep under your shirt just as his tongue dares to move past your lips, exploring your whole body to his liking. 

Your chests flush together, leaving little to no space between your bodies, and you can do nothing but melt in his embrace. Your hands wander around his arms and back, touching and feeling every muscle they encounter on their way. When his hands travel down your lower back and reach your ass, you sigh on his lips and immediately feel his smirk against you. 

A furious knock on the door makes you both jump and separate, leaving you looking at each other, breathless and with confused faces, until you hear a knock again, as strong as the first one. That’s when Mingyu decides to check his phone and sees it's his roommate, who had apparently forgotten his keys. Both a blessing and a curse. 

“Bro, what the hell? I’ve been calling you for about 15 minutes.” You hear the door opening, followed by a new, deep voice. 

“I told you I had company.” Their voices echo through the hallway. 

When they finally reach the living room where you’ve been awkwardly trying to make yourself look presentable, the roommate's face morphs into something, a mix of surprise and realization. You rush to gather your stuff after muttering some variation of ‘hello’ and 'goodbye' to him. Your heart still pumps twice as fast as normal, and you don’t trust you’ll be able to handle yourself if you stay for longer. 

“I’ll see you on the weekend?” Mingyu asks when you’ve both reached the entry, his hand on the handle, hesitant to unlock the door. 

You want to kiss him again so badly. His lips are parted, still swollen, calling to you to connect them with yours again. 

“Find me when you crash the bachelorette party.” You make your best effort to sound confident and not at all dizzy because of him.  

“You know about that?” 

“The bridesmaids know everything... It’s only a surprise for Olivia.” You peck him goodbye, like a promise for more. And the feeling of his lips on yours lasts all night.

It’s roughly around 1 am. when a high-pitched scream from Olivia announces to everyone at the bar that the bachelor party has officially arrived. 

The effects from all the alcohol you consumed in the last 4 hours are just starting to fade, only a little buzz left. But that doesn’t prevent you from seeing what’s happening all the way across the room. 

Mingyu standing with his hip resting on the barstool, listening to Cassie as she drunkenly asks him something. You want to stop looking, not wanting to let all your previous feelings resurface again, not after the recent development in your relationship with him. But just as soon as you’re about to turn your head the other way, Mingyu interrupts Cassie’s rumbling and tells her something, to which she doesn’t respond, nods awkwardly, and just walks away, leaving him standing there. 

That’s your signal to walk over to him. 

“Looks like I found you first.” 

“Damn, I wanted to get you a drink first.” 

The music and the people drunkenly signing and shouting makes it hard for your voices to reach the other, and Mingyu takes the opportunity to take a step closer to you. 

You stand against the bar as the room grows warmer and warmer the closer his body gets to yours. His height taunts you as he stands against the bar as well, forcing you to look up so you can see the smirk on his face. His fingers play with yours as the intensity of his stare increases. You don’t care that you’re in public, that anyone from the wedding can see you two. Maybe you want them to. 

“How’s your night going?” His hair tickles the side of your face. 

“It was really fun, I might be growing fond of the girls." You don’t remember much, just a vague memory of many different games you played to get drunk, and the feeling of being happy. “How about yours? Don’t tell me you went to a strip club or something like that.” 

“Actually, we did a drunk escape room, didn’t even know those existed until today.”

The closeness between you is getting more worrying by the second, mainly because if you hear his low chuckle next to your ear one more time, you might pass out. 

“That sounds horrible!” You chuckle away from his personal space, only to encounter his hungry eyes already looking at you. 

“It was fun, I wish you could’ve been there.” His honesty has a sultry tone to it that makes your lungs completely empty of air. 

“I’m not sure we would’ve made a good team.” 

“Why? You’re smart! Or at least you were back then.” 

“Hey! I still am!” 

“I really have to get to know this new you.”

The pink and blue lights reflect on his face, giving him the most beautiful sparkles on his eyes, directed at you. 

“It’s not that new, I’m still very introverted, don’t talk much when there’s a lot of people around.” 

“I like that, you’re observant, good thing to be while in a escape room.” 

“We’re still talking about that?” 

“Maybe, maybe not, I don’t really care, I just wanted to spend time with you.” 

“Are you drunk?” You can only ask with a smile plastered on your face, but he shakes his head. 

“You kinda make me feel like I’m a teenage boy again, I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“I think I get it.” You place your hand on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart under it, even harder than the music blasting out of the speakers. 

“You know, back then, every time I had a free period, I would make my friends walk past whatever class you had, just to get to see you, at least for a second.” Out of everything he’s drunkenly confessing, this may be the one that surprises you the most because you really never realized he felt the same. He notices you freezing in place. “Once they found out, I was relentlessly bullied by them.” 

“I sure hope it was worth it.” If the lighting was any better, he'd be able to see the cherry red covering your cheeks and ears. 

“Every second of it.” Everything around the two of you moves slower, like time’s stopping only for the outside world, and the muffled background noises do nothing to pierce the bubble around you. “I really want to take you on a date, a real one.” 

“I would very much like that.” 

You can see the gears turning through Mingyu’s eyes, and you move your eyes down to his lips so he can take the hint. But nothing happens as someone else enters your little world. 

Olivia’s aware that something’s going on, her eyes switching back and forth between the two of you before she speaks. 

“I need your help, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m getting worried about her.” 

“About who? What happened?” Mingyu stays behind you as you turn to Olivia, grabbing one of your hands, and his warmth gives you goosebumps. 

“It’s Cassie, she’s been sitting alone in the restroom for I don’t know how long, she's way too drunk and I can’t take care of her.”

You now realize she’s slurring her words, meaning she’s also too drunk and therefore can’t take care of another drunk person, leaving you no choice but to go help Cassie. You look back at Mingyu, who encourages you to go, even if it takes a little too long for his hand to let go of yours. 

The graffitied restroom provides you with a little more light than the rest of the place, and when you enter, you recognize Cassie sitting on the floor inside one of the stalls. Luckily there’s no one guarding the bathrooms because if she’s seen throwing up, it could potentially get you both kicked out. 

You sit on the dirty floor beside her without saying a word, letting her know you’re here to help without giving her a headache. Her forehead’s resting on top of her knees as she hugs her legs tightly. But after a minute or two of silence, you decide it’s best to check if she’s at least awake. 

“Cassie? Are you okay?” Your hand on her shoulder makes her look up at you. 

“I don’t feel so good, I just want to sit down for a while.” She sounds tired, her husky voice giving away all the talking and singing she’s been doing all night. 

“Do you need anything? I can get you a cup of water.” 

“No, please, just stay here a bit, I didn’t want anyone to see me but I don’t want to be alone.” 

“Ok, I’ll stay, let me know if you need something, anything.” 

Time passes by, the music making it easier for you to not get bored. A few people enter the restroom from time to time, too drunk or too in a hurry to notice you both sitting down. Olivia passes by the door a few times, hovering, checking if everything’s okay (and if you’re still in the same position as the previous time). You just smile and nod, letting her go back to her party time and time again. But at last, in one of her check-ins, she finally walks inside. 

“Hey, Mingyu’s looking for you!” Both you and Cassie look up at Olivia, but her eyes point at you. “What do I tell him?” 

You instinctively look to Cassie by your side, and her expression falls. 

“Don’t, don’t go with him.” She finds the strength to plead to you, but she seems more worried than anything. 

“Why? Did he do something? Is that why you’re hiding here?” Olivia asks, and you realize she didn’t leave after you didn’t answer her. 

“No, no, I mean, yes I’m hiding from him, but he didn't do anything, it was me, I embarrassed myself.” 

“Why are you telling me not to go with him then?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“I-” Wow, blunt question out of the blue. 

“You can be honest, it’s fine.” 

“Yeah, I do, I like him.”

Telling them, her, the truth feels kind of freeing. Finally admitting in front of them that you like someone, after not being able to for so many years, it’s like you can finally breathe. 

“Then, for your own good, don’t go with him, he’s seeing someone.” 

“What? How do you know?” That freedom lasts barely seconds before a new weight falls right on top of your lungs. 

“He told me, when the guys got here, he said that he’s been after a girl for years and they recently started going out.” 

“Are you sure? Did he use those words?” 

“I’m not saying it verbatim, I don’t remember it exactly word for word, but that’s what he meant.” 

Could he possibly be talking about you? How recent is ‘recently’ supposed to mean? You haven’t even started officially dating. Is confessing your feelings considered the start of dating? Is it supposed to be this confusing? Are you going to believe her? Not that Cassie’s a liar, but you don’t know the context nor the exact words he used, and she doesn’t know what happened between you and him either. 

“Should I go tell him something?” Olivia's already standing up, your silence not helping the situation. 

“Just-" You don’t want to push him away, but it’s not the time to resolve this. The whole thing is too confusing to be making desperate decisions at this hour of the night, “Tell him to go have fun with the guys, I’m getting Cassie home.” 

The loudest alarm you could’ve ever set up wakes you up with a jump. Your head hurts like your inside out emotions are building houses inside your skull. But the memories still hit you as soon as your eyelids burst open. Some decisions were definitely made the night before. Wrong ones? That’s to be seen today.

And thanks to the gods and Olivia’s always late waking family, you’re not supposed to be at the venue until 11 am. Only bad news, It’s on a luxury complex outside the city. You have time for a real breakfast and a shower, but all the thinking and feeling will have to wait.

You unlock your phone to find the last text conversation open and the messages you barely remember sending stare at you through the dim screen.

Mingyu: you left so suddenly

Mingyu: everything ok?

You: yeah

You: had to take Cass to her place, she wasn’t feeling well

Mingyu: that’s too bad, hope she feels better

Mingyu: you just got home?

You: yep, about to go to bed

Mingyu: great, just checking before i head to sleep

Mingyu: sleep well, big day tomorrow

Admittedly, you were a little dry. Cassie’s words were still lingering on your mind, making you doubt everything. One side of your brain telling you that he was probably talking about you, he explained what he felt and what he wanted and sounded sure and truthful. But, the other part of your brain, the still self-conscious and self-doubting side, also makes valid points. The void years in between your relationship weren’t mentioned in his confession, and you technically aren’t dating. He hasn’t even asked you out yet! It’s too conflicting. But you know you have to face both of them today. After the ceremony.

The taxi ride to the venue is not only long but full of traffic. The sun shining bright directly to your face, the light humming of the driver to the songs of the radio and the occasional car horn on the distance, somehow make it bearable, with all the thoughts about the previous night, switching sides between the he said she said, it’s nice to have something constant while your minds goes on a rollercoaster.

A rollercoaster that doesn’t stop even when you arrive. As soon as you step foot outside the car, Olivia’s mom rushes you upstairs to where the make-up artists set up. There’s no time to admire the beautiful countryside venue. You walk past the door to where the ceremony’s going to be held later, but rush up the stairs without even looking. The green dress already waiting for you at the door, an infinite echo of voices and even more people running around make the atmosphere feel dizzying.

Nothing slows down for even a second. Even when you’re sitting down having your make-up done, around you there’s only people rushing to do everything, stressing about the little details, people running into the room to tell Olivia or her mom about decorations, the wedding planner coming in and out constantly, checking everything’s in order. It’s kind of beautiful how all this mess has the sole purpose of making today the best day for the couple. Even if it doesn’t look like it, no one will remember the dress that wasn’t properly ironed, or the string of hair that had too much hairspray on it, or the too slippery shoes that made it a chore to walk on the tiled floor.

So much chaos happens between the hair and make-up, and then with the photoshoots, you don’t have time to talk to Mingyu. Your eyes would cross from time to time, but those milliseconds of him in a suit glaring at you from across the room are enough, and there’s so much of that you can take before an internal chain reaction begins.

The walk downstairs, after all the make-up retouches and fixes to any rebellious stray hair that didn’t want to stay in place, feels like the first calm and slow moment of the day. As the steps get closer and closer to the bottom floor, the red carpet muffling the clicking of your shoes, your insides feel fire-like when you see Mingyu waiting for you by the final step, an unknowing smile on his face. His eyes drill holes on your figure, scanning you up and down shamelessly.

“You chose this one, I like it.” He whispers by your ear as you walk to the door, where every pair is already waiting. A little smile shows on your face, but it fades when your eyes encounter Cassie’s, watching the two of you with a frown so little you only notice because she immediately relaxes her face.

The music starts before you can say anything to Mingyu, and one by one, each of the bridesmaids start walking down the aisle, arms linked with the groomsmen, gracefully walking forward as the eyes of every guest fall on them. Your arm tangled with his is the first touch you share since many days ago, and even with all the conflict making your mind a blur, your heart speeds up at the feeling of his muscles.

Nothing seems slow anymore, and the ceremony almost goes by without noticing. There isn’t one second where you don’t feel Mingyu’s eyes on you, making it impossible to focus – or pretend to focus – on what the priest is saying.

The moment your brain reconnects with your ears, Thomas delivers the most beautiful vows you’ve ever heard. You met the guy only once, never even spoken to him, but the way he speaks so fondly about Olivia makes your heart clutch in your chest, and your throat tries to fight it, but you end up bursting with tears. But you’re not the only one with a cascade of dramatic tears falling with seemingly no end. As the room fills with applause and even some whistles at the first kiss between the officially married couple, you see some people with tissues, quietly blowing their nose.

But the never-ending rush in time continues, everyone sprinting to sit at their tables for the reception. The last retouches of make-up get done quickly. The girls gossip to kill the time before the dance, because for them it’s moving so slowly, but in the blink of an eye, you’re going out the door once again, just as Cassie taps on your shoulder. You turn to her, expecting her to be angry, or at least to start speaking, but it looks like she’s still figuring out what to say.

“Thank you, for taking care of me last night, I’m sure you would’ve preferred to enjoy the party.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone, it’s fine, you don’t have to thank me. Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, I am! But actually, I wanted to apologize.” Your head spins, dizzy from the world suddenly stopping hearing her words. “I didn’t know there was something going on between you two.”

“There’s not- I mean, not much happened, I didn’t want to cause a fuzz over it.”

“But you should’ve told me you liked him, at least! If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have gone after him.” You see in her eyes nothing but honesty. “I know we’re not as close as before, but these are the things we need to tell each other. It’s the girl code.”

“I don’t really know why I didn’t, I know I should’ve, I didn’t know how.” You’ve now started to go downstairs to the reception, already the time to dance in pairs.

“Look, it’s okay if you’re not comfortable telling me this, but did something happen? Was he talking about you last night?”

You’ve reached where everyone is waiting, and you’re too embarrassed to look up and possibly find Mingyu standing there, leg-melting and breathtaking.

“I thought about it but I don’t know, maybe?”

Back at the reception, the music starts, signaling the newlyweds are about to begin their first dance, meaning in no time you’ll have to step in and dance around them.

“I’m going to ask you three questions and you just have to answer yes or no. There's no need for explanation, okay?”

“O…Kay?”

“So, you two knew each other in school, did you like him?” You nod shyly, not looking in her eyes, embarrassed to be talking about this so openly, “Did he like you?” You nod again, “And did something happen recently that would indicate that he would like to date you in the near future?”

You give her a final nod and finally look up at her. She sighs, taking your hand and squeezing it to make you pay attention.

“Then he meant you dummy! Go, talk to him. He’s been staring at you all day like a lost puppy.”

When you dare to look his way, where you just knew he was standing, he’s looking at you, a little smirk on his lips and subtly motioning he's ready to take your hand. You didn’t notice it was already time, and everyone around you stands in their position.

The pairs start entering one by one, and your smile trembles, feeling the eyes of every guest on you. Your fingers barely graze his, but they feel raw, like you can feel every particle of his hand below yours. The electric fire emerging from where your skin connects with his runs through your veins in record time.

But as soon as the music starts and Mingyu turns you so you’re looking at him, everything is forgotten. The steps come easily, his eyes calm but observing, his hand on your waist guiding you as he did every time you practiced.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He whispers, not wanting to disrupt the moment, but knowing it’s the only time you’ll get alone.

“I swear I didn’t mean to.”

You panic. There was so much to do and so few words you could come up with to say to him that maybe you unconsciously avoided him by locking yourself up in the make-up room.

“Did I do something wrong?” He doesn’t sound hurt, but rather just plain curious, eager to work this out between you two.

“No! it was just a misunderstanding,” he waits for you to continue, but the part of your brain that makes sense starts crumbling, making it impossible to form a coherent argument, “I- can I ask you something? It might sound stupid, I’m warning you.”

“Go ahead.” He chuckles, his feet continuing to dance while you've already forgotten about it. One of your hands stays on his shoulder, while the other is being held by him, still in the air by your sides, reaching the height of your shoulders.

“You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

He doesn’t let the silence even come close to the two of you, chuckling quietly so you’re the only one who can hear it.

“I’m not, hard to believe I know, but I’m painfully single.”

“Great, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I remember telling you I want to take you on a date.”

“Y-yeah, of course I remember that too."

The pit of your stomach lights up at the remainder of that afternoon in his home, your bodies as close as they are at this moment.

“Then what made you think that?”

“You just, you said to Cassie last night that you started seeing someone recently and, I don’t know, we didn’t technically start dating, so I panicked.” Saying it out loud to him, it sounds ridiculous, but if he thinks that, he doesn’t show it.

“Oh that, yeah, I might’ve gotten ahead of myself, but hey, think of it as manifesting.” He’s so charming that you don’t care that he’s making no sense.

“Next time, don’t tell a drunk girl who’s flirting with you the wrong information. She might spread it around.”

The synchronized chuckle you let out makes you pay attention to the forgotten situation. You’re dancing and haven’t tripped once, like your muscles got a life of their own and remembered every single step. And you suddenly realize how close your body is to Mingyu’s. One hand down the small of your back, pressing just enough to hold you in his personal space, his face close enough that you could concentrate on his breathing and feel the light exhales on your face.

When the music ends, the applause makes you look around, and your cheeks feel warm immediately, noticing all the eyes on every one of you. But the attention is short-lived, as you and Mingyu walk quickly to your table so the couple can do the welcome toasts. You don't miss how he slides your chair closer to his before you sit down.

Sitting by your side, Mingyu’s body and yours are connected by an electric current, drawing you closer. His knee stays glued to yours, and the cut on the side of your dress allows your bare skin to brush against the fabric of his pants. A conversation takes place between everyone at the table, one of the guys telling a story about something funny that happened with Tom back in high-school, but it’s hard to pay any real attention when Mingyu’s fingers start tracing circles on your knee. He’s not even doing to be a tease. It seems like it’s a habit of his, one that you’re just discovering. You don’t stop your fingers from playing with his, and a subtle smirk forms on his lips at your action.

It’s not like you’re doing anything too flashy or indecent, but you do your best to mask your reactions to his touches, to try and keep the people of the table unaware of the not so innocent things going on under the fancy tablecloth. He only notices your changes because he’s paying attention to you. The way your chest rises just a tad bit more when his hand goes a little over your knee, or how you drink from your cold glass of water when he presses on the skin of your inner thigh, but when he’s about to move his hand off of you, you put yours on his to keep it in place. You also notice things throughout the night, for example, that Mingyu isn’t drinking a lot, restricting to one glass of champagne per serving. You do the same, wanting to remember this night in the future.

Mingyu stands up when the dancefloor opens again, turning down an offer to go to the bar for something stronger than sparkling wine. Instead, he reaches for your hand, silently inviting you to dance with him, to which you agree, with a smile and avoiding his eyes. Following behind him, he doesn’t let go of your hand, even when you’ve reached the spot he wanted. People join you on the dancefloor, drunkenly vibing to the dj set, surrounding you, and blocking you from anyone you know. It’s feels almost private. Whatever song is playing on the speakers, it doesn’t prevent you from following your own rhythm in your own world. Your arms wrap around Mingyu’s neck, and both of his hands hold your waist, mirroring the evening at his place.

“So, tell me, what other embarrassing things did you do when you liked me?”

He throws his head back in embarrassment, sighing with a smile before daring to look at you again. His ears turn a light shade of pink, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat between your bodies.

“I really told you that, did I? I was hoping you wouldn't remember.”

“Nope, I remember it very vividly actually.”

“Let’s leave the embarrassing stories for the future, I wasn’t in my best condition last night.”

“You’re making me too curious now, but how drunk did you get last night?”

“Honestly, I was just nervous about seeing you and about tonight.” He might be confessing another embarrassing thing, but behind his truthful tone, there’s something you can’t quite decipher.

“What’s there to be nervous about tonight?”

Your heels allow you to be in his line of sight, and your chests are too close. If you inhaled deeply, you’d be able to feel him on you. He takes advantage of your new height and forces your attention to go to his lips, smirking shamelessly as he thinks his next words.

“Did I tell you how pretty you look today?"

One hand comes close to your face, removes a strand of hair from blocking your view, and tucks it behind your ear.

“Oh, shut up.”

You can’t even think of a snarky response, your brain melting and showing just how much he affects you. Goosebumps spread all across your arms and back at the feel of his hand caressing your skin.

“I can’t, it’s all I’ve thinking about all day, you, this dress, and you in this dress.”

You instinctively hide your face on the crook of his neck, his cologne invading your senses. It’s hard to think of words when he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you whole.

“I got it because of you. Do you really like it?”

Not that you need any confirmation, since he’s told you twice already, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it from him one more time. Your reveal makes his smirking lips graze your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and his voice drops an octave to answer.

“I love the dress, but I’ll love it more once I get it off you.”

“I hate you.”

You barely manage to say, your chest rising but breathless at the same time. Your body’s automatic reaction is to push him away, and your hands go straight to his chest to try, but of course it’s pointless. His hands catch yours, not letting you leave his personal space. He taunts you by spinning you around, and once you do a full twirl, he grabs you by the waist again and brings your body to his.

“You have no idea how hard it was for me that day when you stepped out, wearing this.” He gets closer to your ear with every word. You hate it and love it. For one, you can hide from his teasing eyes and blush in peace, but on the other hand, you are cheek to cheek with him, his breath fanning lightly on your side, and you can feel he’s still smirking. “You’re lucky there were other people in the room.”

A breath catches in your throat, and you swallow hard. You thank all the gods there are out there for being surrounded by drunk people. Because to anyone on their senses, your reaction to Mingyu's words would be too obvious.

“I really hate you right now.”

It’s getting harder and harder to ignore the heat growing at the pit of your stomach.

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“I think it’s quite the opposite actually.”

How are you supposed to play hard to get when his hands hold you like he wants to keep you forever?

“You think you know everything.”

You catch your voice about to tremble when his free hand starts going down the side of your arm, from your shoulder down until your hand, and interlocks his fingers with yours.

“If you hate me then, I can’t tell you the secret I’ve been keeping all night.”

“Have you been secretly writing an article about how to break someone’s heart in 10 days?”

“I love that movie, but it has been well over 10 days, I couldn’t make the deadline.”

“Rom-com connoisseur, noted.” You jokingly nod, but not forgetting what’s important. “Now tell me.”

“So, you know how they told us there were rooms available for anyone that couldn't drive home?” You nod, too enthusiastically. “I may or may not have booked one for tonight, and if you want to, there’s space for one more, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to…” He keeps talking, something about you watching him do something, but you get lost in the way his lips move as he talks, so pink and fast and hypnotizing.

“Isn’t it rude to just leave?”

The question leaves your mouth more to tease him than anything else. You want to be alone with him so badly, feel his body all over yours, his hands everywhere he can reach, ripping this godforsaken dress off you.

Before the last food serving rolls out and everyone scatters to go back to their seat, you sneak out of the reception, but the drunk bodies are not making it easy. Mingyu leads the way with you grabbing his hand and walking behind him. You don’t know if you could’ve managed another teasing touching session under the table.

You take a left turn into the hallway just at the same time as one of Olivia's drunk uncles, a stranger to the both of you, who’s half asleep using the wall to steady himself as he walks. The music echoes through the walls, and you can only look at each other, half about to burst out laughing and half needing to take the others clothes off, as you walk as nonchalantly as possible past the man trying his best to open his door.

Giggling like teenagers, you finally reach your room at the end of the hallway, but the second you enter, the atmosphere changes. Standing by the closed door, shoes off, panting, and frozen in place, you only look at each other. Your breaths regulate, and your smiles slowly fade off your expressions as the realization hits. It’s real. He’s here, and you’re here, in a room just for the two of you. His eyes are bound to your parted lips, but you wouldn’t know, as yours are also unable to leave his.

Like magnets, brutally drawn to each other, your lips finally reconnect in a hungry, desperate kiss. After learning how sweet he tastes, how his lips glide over yours so easily, how he wraps his arms around you to keep you close to him, there was only so much time you could spend in abstinence.

No words needed, the want translating in the way your hands push him against you, his hands traveling across your back, touching and groping everywhere he can reach. After the long day testing your patience, neither of you can slow down.

His fang claws at your bottom lip, making you whimper against him. He drinks in any sound you make, his arms bringing your body impossibly closer to his, almost making you one. No one is in control, both of you just touching and grabbing anywhere you can, desperate for more.

Your mouths reluctantly separate as Mingyu starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and biting lightly on your sensitive skin, making you gasp. You can only thread your fingers on his hair, encouraging him to leave any marks he wishes to.

“Is this okay?”

His raspy voice travels to your ears, and you don’t trust yourself to not make unholy noises if you open your mouth to answer. But just as you’re humming, he digs his teeth just above your clavicle, turning your hum into a moan.

He slowly slides the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his fingers teasing your skin on the way down. His hand travels across your chest, only the silky green fabric in between your fiery skin and his teasing fingers. They go over your pointy hard nipples, feeling everything on its way, but not letting it stay anywhere for more than a second.

“Are you going to take it off?”

Your breathlessness makes him chuckle, smug and cocky as ever.

“Rushed?”

“Very. You’re the one that put the thought in my head, now take care of it!” His hands sneak up your back, playing with the zipper of your dress.

“Don’t act so innocent.” His tone goes straight to your core. The fabric around you loosens up as his hand runs down your spine, but he stops before it gets too loose to slip down. “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me all day? You’re not slick.”

He takes a step back to take off his suit jacket, absentmindedly throwing it to the side without breaking eye contact. But you don't let yourself get shy.

“Who said I was trying to hide it?”

Your hands run from his shoulders to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt one by one as his breathing speeds up. The warmth of his body envelops your hands, your fingers barely grazing the skin above his pants, and his muscles tense at your touch before you slip his shirt off.

“Now who’s the one teasing?”

Pulling on the red tie around his neck, he swallows hard as you bring his head closer to yours, so close you unconsciously flutter your eyes closed. His bare chest rises against yours as you undo his tie slowly. You could tilt your chin up and break the tension once more, but something in you wants to keep teasing him.

A step back is all you need to have his lips chase you, and he opens his eyes, droopy and confused, to find you slipping your dress off. His stare turns surprised and hungry as you reveal yourself for him, but his body stays frozen in place.

“I’m supposed to do that.”

It’s your time to chuckle now, taking a step forward again. His hands slot on your waist instinctively, traveling to your stomach, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin against his hands.

“You’ll get to do it next time.” The sentence is almost left unfinished, a breath getting caught in your throat when his hands dare go up your chest. But they’re gone in a heartbeat, as they reach your face and tilt it so you can properly look at him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” No teasing tone on his voice.

“I’m literally naked in front of you.” Your hands go back up to his neck, pushing his head slightly down, reaching a hypnotic closeness. “I want this, I want you Mingyu.”

Confirmation is all he needed to let loose, to let the want take over his body and soul. He connects your lips with force, and wastes no time. With his hands on your ass and his tongue working its way inside your mouth, he stumbles backwards until you both fall on the bed.

With you on top of Mingyu, your hands make their way across his chest, his golden skin glistening due to the sweat. You can feel his hard muscles tense under your touch, making him sigh on your mouth when you find his sensitive spots. His hands move to your hips and push you down on him, making you both moan un unison because of the first friction between your cores.

His growing hard grinds deliciously against you. Even with his pants still between you, you can feel how big he is, and the wet patch on your panties grows by the second. Your lips are still smashed together, a mess of saliva allowing your lips you glide faster and hungrier on his, your tongues becoming one, not wanting to separate ever again.

Your hands find their way down his abdomen, reaching where his pants hang on his hips. The absence of a belt makes it easier for you to unbutton them, and he takes the off expertly, all without ever taking his hands off you.

The second your hand sneaks under his underwear, he groans under you, disconnecting your mouths to take a look at you.

“Is it embarrassing to be already close?” His blood red lips are parted, breathing out his confession, and you almost moan, clenching around nothing because of the sight, or his confession, or maybe the whimper he fights when you wrap your hand around him.

“You’re so big, fuck.” You sigh, and the side of his mouth quirks up, but slowly disappears as you start sliding your hand down, smearing the precum on his length.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His eyes have a mix of concern and lust on them, and your body doesn’t know how to react, your stomach flips, your hands tremble, and your underwear grows wetter.

“I know you won’t.”

You climb down on him, your eyesight reaching where his boxers begin to tent. His gaze follows you, like he can’t believe the reality of what’s happening. You take off the last piece of clothing left on his body, and his dick springs free, standing proud and angry red in front of your eyes. The throb on your throat makes you move forward, wrapping your lips around his leaking tip.

“Wait. Don’t.” You look up at him but he’s facing the ceiling, ears red and eyes closed. “I can’t.”

“I haven’t done anything.” You play innocent, and a smirk appears on your face when he finally looks at you, resting on his elbows.

“Exactly, that’s why I can’t, I need to have a little bit of pride left.”

“What do you suggest we do?” You slowly climb up on him again, his hands moving to your hips like they got a life of their own. One hand on his chest and one hand on his jaw, you kiss him softly, and he melts at your touch.

A soft moan is heard, could be from him, could be from you, but your mind is too clouded to care when he rolls his hips against yours, following the pace of your lazy kiss. A rush of arousal takes over your body when he presses you harder against him, his length sliding perfectly with your core, your wetness making it easier to reach every point that makes you gasp.

“I want,” his lips stop working on yours, but his arms keep you from separating. You feel his every breath, every gasp at the friction, and his lips graze yours when he speaks, “I want to taste you.”

“Fuck.” He might just be able to feel the new rush of wetness dampening your panties further and smearing around his hard below you. His hands push your hips up his body. He told you what he wants, and he’s showing you exactly how he wants it. “Are you sure? I don’t want to crush your skull.”

“I wouldn’t mind that, at least I’d die happy.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that if you want it.”

The chuckle he lets out reverberates from his chest up through your whole body. There’s not much you can do besides complying with his wants, especially with the way your body’s reacting to the sole idea of it and the way he’s moving you to where he wants.

His hands sneak under the strings of your underwear, and as you climb higher and higher, he removes them easily, leaving you bare on top of him.

“You’re so wet, shit.” Your pussy pulsates just above his face. You can’t see his reaction, but you for sure can hear it, “I would’ve done this sooner if I knew this was waiting for me.”

From your point of view, his whole face is covered, by you, on top of him, only his messy hair laying on the mattress can be seen. A view that’s dizzying and hypnotic at the same time, and you can’t think of any answer to give him. His breath on your wet core makes you shiver, but you’re afraid to sit down, afraid you’ll hurt him.

Mingyu senses your hesitation and gives you no more time to doubt. His head rises until his tongue meets your folds, flattening on you, desperate to make you feel good. The sudden stimulation makes your legs tremble, and you would've fell on his face if it wasn’t from his hands still holding your hips.

He starts making out with your cunt, moaning and groaning against it like this is also pleasurable for him. His tongue finds every place that makes you gasp, moan and whimper, and with every lap at your folds, a nasty wet sound accompanies it.

A shaky moan escapes out of you when he envelops your clit with his lips and sucks lightly, making you grab the headboard so you don’t fall on him.

You must’ve fully sit on his mouth in your search for support, because he moans louder against your pussy, and you can feel everything. His lips and tongue working to drink every drop of arousal that leaves you, discovering every sensitive spot you didn’t know about.

The tip of his nose bumps your clit just as his tongue finds its way inside your pulsing hole, and you instinctively move your hand down to pull at his hair. The action encourages him to go faster, harder, and when you grind on his face and he groans like he’s enjoying it, you let go.

Riding him, chasing your high, you’re using his tongue for your own pleasure. Your hand on his hair tightens, and you lose the little control you had of your throat. But the unfiltered sounds you make just push him harder. Every one of your senses is clouded. The wet sounds, the way he moans against you, his tongue already knowing where to go to make you squirm, everything culminates without warning.

You cum on his tongue faster than you have ever before. Your thighs tremble at either side of his head, and you realize you’re crushing him between them. But he doesn't let you get up. His tongue continues to work on you,

He cleans you up, drinking every last drop of arousal smeared on your skin. You spasm over him every time he –not so accidentally– flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, starting to get you overstimulated.

You use the strength you have left to push his head back, and take advantage of his surprise to plop down on his side, your back on the mattress and your pussy finally away of his eager mouth.

“Are you okay?”

From the corner of your eye, while you try to recover, you see Mingyu doing his best to clean the lower side of his face.

“Yeah, fuck, that was a lot.” You manage to say in between breaths. “I need a second.”

“If you’re too tired, we can st- fuck.”

You don’t give time to overthink, quickly getting on top of him again, your swollen dripping cunt right on top of his still hard cock.

“Second's over.” Only a little smirk is the warning he gets before you’re grinding on top of him again. All of your juices mix as you slowly ride back and forth, his length sliding between your wet folds deliciously. “I’m clean, and on the pill, are you?”

“On the pill? Unfortunately not.” How he manages to make you laugh even on your horniest moments will forever remain a mystery. “But I’m clean, I’ve never had sex without a condom before.”

“Me neither. I guess this will be a new experience for the both of us.” The sole thought of it makes his dick twitch under you.

“Are you sure?” His hand cups the side of your face, and his eyes look at you with such care that you could melt in an instant.

“Yes, I don’t want to wait anymore. We’ve waited long enough.” That seems to relax him, his hands beginning to roam freely across your torso.

Sliding forward makes the veins of his cock drag along every sensitive spot and you both moan before his tip finally prods at your entrance. A loud hiss comes out of him as you align yourself with his length and push his tip in.

But before you can go any further, he wraps his arms around your waist and turns you around so your back is against the mattress. You gasp at the sudden change, and when he starts slowly sinking into you, filling every possible space inside you, you lose your breath.

His cock being covered by your fluids makes it easier, and when he finally bottoms out, so deep you feel him everywhere, you hear him trying to muffle a moan. Your gummy walls clamp around him, trying to get used to his size. The twitch of his length feels stronger while inside you, and you know he’s trying to resist the urge to pound into you.

“Move, please, I need you.” Your pathetic whimper triggers another smirk out of him, and as he moves down to give you a soft kiss, his eyes darken.

“Whatever my girl wants.”

The slow drag of his cock as he starts sliding it out almost make you delirious, but before his tip slips out, he snaps his full length right back in, making your body jolt upwards. You can't speak properly, a curse you can’t even hear leaves your mouth before he repeats the action, again and again.

“So deep, Mingyu, fuck.” The brutal pace he sets has him abusing every single sensitive spot inside you, even the ones you didn’t know about, hitting relentlessly where it makes you scream, and you’re seeing stars.

“You don’t say my name often,” his voice is raspy and deep, almost mirroring the way his cock pistons inside of you, “I like how it sounds coming out of you."

Your palms are against the headboard and you’re sure the bed hitting against the wall can be heard from other rooms, but when one of his hands sneak between your bodies and starts circling your clit, you stop caring all along.

The grinding of your hips matches his rhythm, accentuating everything as he drives you closer and closer. With his face just above yours, you can only look him in the eyes and let him watch your face contort in pleasure feeling every vein of his cock dragging inside of you. With any other person, you would be self-conscious, but as he finds that spot inside you that makes you squirm, you forget the world around you and focus on grabbing his strong arms for support.

His teeth find your neck again, biting and kissing on your soft skin, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and he doesn’t stop drilling his hips into you. Somehow, you feel him deeper with every thrust, and the only thing you can do is claw your nails on his arms and back, encouraging him more and more.

“You’re so tight, shit.” His hips stutter when you clench hearing his voice. “Tell me you’re close, please, fuck, I don’t now how long I got."

“Yes! Yes, don’t stop.” You tighten impossibly harder around him when you feel him pinch one of your nipples. He’s literally everywhere, stimulating every spot to tip you over the edge.

Your arms and legs cage his body so close to yours that he has trouble keeping up with his pace, but that doesn't stop him from pounding hard. The sound of skin your skin hitting against his and his groans are like music to your ears.

It's when his thumb teases your clit again that you finally snap.

You tremble around him, moaning uncontrollably as he keeps pounding into you, prolonging your orgasm as he pleases and chasing his own. But he’s far gone too. Your sweet moans in his ear and your walls clenching around him so perfectly are enough to have him spilling inside you.

Sleepiness is about to get you when you feel him sliding out you and plopping by your side. Naturally, one of his arms slots under you as your head rests on the crook of his neck.

There’s silence while you both catch your breaths, his hand softly drawing circles on your back and yours on his chest. As reality sinks in, giddiness fills your entire body, and you can’t contain the smile growing against his golden skin.

“Did you do any embarrassing things back then?” The sudden interrogation makes your cheeks turn red.

“I’m guessing there’s no way out of this, right?” You avoid looking up at him to not make your shyness obvious, and you feel him shake his head as an answer. “Fine… you know… your fangs?”

“My fangs?!” Amusement and surprise mix on his voice.

“Fuck this is so embarrassing.” You’re caged between his arms but you manage to cover your face with your hands.

“You liked my fangs?”

“I still do, but yeah, I would just draw little fangs everywhere, I guess no one ever noticed because they looked more like vamp–"

“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” He luckily interrupts your embarrassing rant with his pending question.

“Already? You want to see me again that badly?” You feel the chuckle on his chest before you hear it, and at that moment, it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard.

“I plan on taking you on dates at least three times a week. You’re never getting rid of me now.” He embraces you in his arms, chests flushed together, and when you tilt your head up, he’s already looking at you, expectant for your answer. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes, I would love to have dinner with you tomorrow.” The smile he gives you might be the most blinding smile you’ve ever seen. “But just so you know, I do not have sex on first dates.”

thank you so much for reading♥♥ sorry this took so long to finish

[lxnarphase]

BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★

━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎

you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.

every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.

nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.

except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.

he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.

you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.

and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.

eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.

these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!

it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!

so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.

"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.

toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.

"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."

crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!

"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."

having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.

it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.

"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.

no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?

"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"

whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.

"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.

"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"

"make me."

you blink.

a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.

ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.

"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."

catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.

his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?

as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.

oh.

oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?

curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.

fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.

propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.

in.

out.

in.

out.

in-

"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."

"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.

toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.

and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.

but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....

fuck.

he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.

"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"

"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.

the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.

he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?

when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."

toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.

wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.

"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.

toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.

you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.

"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.

has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.

his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.

his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.

he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.

"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."

scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.

it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.

"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."

those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.

good boy. you called him a good boy.

the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.

he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.

"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like

"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.

he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.

"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."

oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.

he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.

"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."

"that's my good boy."

once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.

"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."

feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.

he needs it.

he needs you.

needs you so fucking bad.

feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.

he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?

"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"

shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?

feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.

when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.

"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"

you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.

tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.

ah.

it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.

"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"

"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"

"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"

"they didn't."

that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?

...guess you need to find out.

shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"

the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.

while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.

"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.

melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.

despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.

"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.

but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.

his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.

“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.

meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.

"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."

it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.

toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.

"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"

he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.

"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."

you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.

"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."

“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”

you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.

"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."

god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.

"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."

you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"

he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.

"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."

the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.

they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.

"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."

toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.

he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."

one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.

"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.

"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.

it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.

the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"

you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.

your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.

"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"

with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.

his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"

still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"

you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."

"heh. fair point."

you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."

"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"

"my god, toji, you are nasty."

"but you like ittttt."

you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.

soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.

he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.

as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.

...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff

[afterglowsainz]

hi sweetheart !!

can you write like the reader not being popular like jude, like nobody knows her, shes in college while hes a footballer:(( so so cutesy jude wouls probably make her famous AF!!!?

end of the world | jude bellingham

summary: no one knows who jude is dating until her college graduation

fc: candela gallo

a/n: the idea for this came to me in a dream so thanks for requesting it <3

—

📍miami, florida

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realmadrid.wags jude bellingham was spotted in miami during spring break with a misterious girl, we still don’t know her name or who she is

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📍madrid, spain

liked by judebellingham, vinijr and others

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liked by frienduser1, frienduser2 and others

realmadrid.wags jude bellingham was seen at the universidad complutense de madrid graduation ceremony very close to a mysterious girl, we think it might be the same one he went to miami with

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tagged yourusername

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judebellingham 🥰🥰

[lvrboy-inc]

“Siren” — K.M.

꒰: Précis | After a shitty breakup with a subpar man, you find yourself drawn to the lights and sleaze of the nearest bar. Drink away your problems or fuck and forget them with the bartender who’s hot as hell.

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Incubus Bartender!Satoru x virgin!reader, dirty talk, praise, coercion, praise, spitting, hair pulling, PRAISE, pet names (♡)

꒰: Word Count ; 10.2k

꒰: Sweetest Sin Masterlist

“You seem tense, handsome..”

————

Starting your night off with a shitty breakup and one two many drinks might’ve not been the best route to take. In hindsight at least.

Your co-workers had already urged you to break it off with the less than desirable man who could barely breathe without working your nerves and not only that—trying to make you work in the bedroom. 

It was an endless cycle of  “You get on top, work for me.” and never him using the hips that God gave him to work you out—always ending in a resounding turn off, consistently followed up with, “Next time for sure.” So, after he had started an argument, ending in trauma being spat out in a fit of anger, you felt thankful, grateful, blessed even that he gave you a reason.

But..all breakups are hard to get over. Whether they were a long time coming or not, it’s always a shitty experience. 

What’s always the best unhealthy coping mechanism for such..? A drink, of course.

“A drink.”

That was the intention..but you wound up getting more plastered than expected and crying out your woes to the bartender who had only asked whether you’d be putting things on your tab or card for the night. 

He was charismatic—maybe because of the job description and having to be a poster boy for such a place. Sweet talking drinks into vulnerable people so he could get tips and points from his boss for making them profit. It was a good hustle, respectable and fun.

Not to mention..he was damn good at it.

After a bit of a slurred exchange of words, you’d gotten to know a few things about him: His name, Satoru, Satoru Gojo. 28, graduated college with a psych major, infinitely and criminally tall—6’3 to be exact—and to your surprise, swung both ways. Often.

You found yourself asking stupid questions just so he would slide your way from the other customers.

“I’m starting to think I should cut you off,” He teased after about the 5th call over.

You raised up your head to rest in the palm of your hand, running your index over the rim of the golden-lined glass he’d refilled so many times now. Some of it you drank, most of it you babysat. “I’m pacing myself alright..” You’d slur out with a mild puffing of your cheeks.

“Oh yeah? Your cheeks are flushed, hun. Unless that’s just from staring too long.” The way he pointed out your fluster so obviously couldn’t have made it go down any.

“You’re too cocky..‘m holding over fine.” A bit snippy but he laughed heartily, drying off a used glass with the hand towel he’d kept attached to his hip. 

Even from this distance, you could just tell he smelled nice. Maybe it was the already alcoholic aroma that the rather sleazy place held but you could’ve sworn there were hints of cologne—expensive cologne—that mingled with it. 

Those piercing blues he had, barely dimmed out by the lighting of the establishment flickered over you and a slick smile spread across his lips. “Then, please, I’m at your disposal. Need another drink, pretty boy?”

An initial sound of surprise came with the name but you turned away from him slightly and blew a stray strand of hair from in front of your eyes. “No..”

“Ah, so you did just want to talk to me.”

“Shut up..don’t you have a job to do?” You quickly retorted with a harsh roll of eyes. 

Shrugging, he waved a small goodbye. Not before adding on a small, “You’re technically a part of it..”

And in another moment, you were back to eating up the eye candy. In your mild boredom, you opened up your phone to see your shitty ex spamming you across every platform imaginable—TikTok, Insta, Snap, Facebook, hell, he went as far as to email you. He was hooked and just seeing the mass notifications made you want to throw the whole device away.

That’s when you got a really..really bad idea.

About an hour went by and the promiscuous bartender had paid you a few more stops of his own volition. Each encounter got more and more..suggestive, to say the least.

From mild flirting to him finally saying, “My eyes are up here, you know.” when yours were drifting.

“Obviously..but that’s not really the objective.” 

He visibly was caught off guard by your comment, going as far as to lean his arms forward onto the bar top, eyes now boring into your soul it felt like as he purred out a response. “Oh? And what might your objective be? You’ve been eyeing me since you walked in, can’t help but feel you undressing me.”

“I’m not some sort of pervert—you’re making it sound worse than it is.” Furrowing your brows slightly, he tilted his head in that oh-so innocent fashion.

It was hard to not crack a smile.

“I am,” He admitted smoothly, now actively ignoring a small trio of women at the end of the counter. “But, you didn’t answer my question.”

With one last adjustment of his neck, he was staring right at you. “What’s your objective here, pretty boy?”

“Is it not obvious?” 

“Terribly. But, I’d just love it if you could use your words. Give me something worth listening to and blowing off customers for.” His tone, his posture, his eyes—God, this is what true temptation feels like.

Working up the courage which..didn’t take long, thanks to liquid confidence, you squared your shoulders a bit to meet his gaze properly. “My objective is you. Is that so hard to piece together?”

“Don’t talk about things being hard right now.”

…

A round of silence and you were pulling a pen out of his breast pocket, you went along and grabbed his notepad as well. “And what are you doing now?”

“Giving you my cell..obviously.” Quipping back, you started to jot down the series of numbers before his slender fingers were pulling the parchment down so your focus was back on him once more.

He flashed that award-winning smile and stood up straight again. “No need. My shift ends in 30.”

Oh, he was confident.

“Make it 25. My place or yours?” 

Finally, the women at the end had gotten more than impatient and wound up calling out a not-so passive, aggressive, “Bartender!” from down the way to which he cast a small grin your way.

“Duty calls.” He said briefly and then, he was gone again. Was he serious..? Maybe the drinks were really just getting to you but Lord..the way he spoke to you, sized you up—he wanted to talk about undressing people with their eyes? Please. 

You could almost feel how he was defiling you in his head.

Among other things, you decided to down the rest of your drink and ultimately did put it on your tab. Once he’d taken down his apron and you had gathered the remnants of your heart that had led you to this point, you both were walking out with an air of civility…

Such a stark contrast to the debauchery that was promising the night.

Initially, you’d offered to take your car but he waved a hand with a chuckle, pointing over to a white Mustang GT sitting pretty in the parking lot. “I’ll get my co-worker to keep an eye on your ride for the night. You can come get it in the morning, ‘kay, handsome?”

“Should I feel insulted..?” 

He looked around for a bit before looking back down at you. “I don’t know, are you into that sorta thing?”

“Do you always talk to people like this?”

“Hm, like what?” Peering in closer, he dug his keys out of his pocket, twirling them around his index for a moment before resting them in his palm.

Crossing your arms and beginning the path to his car, you spoke, “Like a slut.”

“Are you not one too, though?” He drawled, purposely keeping his strides slow just so you could keep up easily in your dwindling intoxication. “I mean, you came to my place of work, talked me up, now, we’re heading back to your place—is that not slut behavior?”

You got ready to make another smart comment but wound up falling short and simply digging an elbow into his ribs that elicited a pained groan followed by light laughter. 

He was enjoying this way too much. 

Even on the ride home, he wouldn’t let up in his relentless teasing fit. With the low rumbling of the smooth engine carrying you across the streets of the night city, he held one hand on the wheel whilst the other rested on the gear shift. 

Every so often though, he’d try and drift his fingers over..over and up to your thigh which made you crane your neck to give him a sideways glance. “We’re not even halfway there yet..” You chastised lowly to which he moved his hand down, giving your thigh a playful squeeze instead of the devilish wandering it’d been doing before.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is foreplay not your thing?” Scoffing lightly, he shook his head and briefly peeled his eyes away from the road to look over you once again—it was becoming a habit. “I thought maybe you’d be as eager as I am—seeing as you’re the one who came onto me, after all.”

Rolling your eyes instinctively, you turned to face the window a bit. “Barely..I gave hints and you took them to ten fold. And I do like foreplay, seeing as my ex lacked the ability…I just wouldn’t want it to wind up with us fogging up these windows.”

“Please, I wouldn’t fuck you in my car,” He said it quick, as if he was a bit offended at the proposition. “I respect my baby better than to make a mess of either of you in here.”

That shut you up rather quickly.

You let your head make a small thud against the cold glass with an audible, “Hmph.” But, it was rather deterred when your hand moved over his, dragging it up further until it basically rested on the junction of your hips and leg. He didn’t make a comment and neither did you, save for the way your body spoke, pressing your thighs lightly together to hold his hand there.

Regardless, the rest of the drive was calm and when you’d arrived back to your quaint condo, just a bit out from the center of the cityscape, he turned the keys out of the ignition and got out of the driver’s side door. 

Moving to open up the door, you started to get out before he was right there in front of it, closing it back. “What the hell?” You exclaimed, given the roughness of the pushback.

He took a few moments before opening the door so gently and leaning down to your sitting level. “You’re trying to rob me of my gentlemanly status, pretty boy. Can’t have that now, can we?” With that, he extended a flat palm your way which you took—not without a low, grumbled string of complaints at his dramatacism. 

You fumbled with your keys for a split second before getting up to the door. Satoru loomed behind you, making a small shiver trail over your spine—that cologne was his.

Once getting inside, you were greeted by your precious feline companion who, instead of rubbing against your ankles, circled through Satoru’s. He gave a deep laugh of amusement, crouching down to scratch behind the furry friend’s ear to which he purred and mewed in response. “What’s its name?”

“His name is Dot.” You gave back, just the slightest bit jealous that the cat had taken a bigger liking to the house guest than the man who fed him every day. “He usually doesn’t like house guests..” A mild jab at the pet who was jingling and purring as Satoru catered to his sweet spots.

Though..after enough time and playful back and forth, just getting to know one another, flirting..whispering..trading spit..things got much more hot and heavy much quicker than you expected.

Once he’d had his tongue down your throat, it tasted..sweet. Not even in the metaphorical sense but like a literal syrup—an addictively sweet taste that had your head spinning..hazy, even. 

Your back was already flat against the bed and he was taking his time..so much so you were getting impatient. Breaking the seal between your spit-drenched lips with a soft pwah, he was breathing right into your mouth. He trailed his hand up along the column of your throat and finally, a thumb was swiping across your bottom lip, pressing down on it just to get a glimpse of your lower set.

“Somethin’ wrong..?” God..how did he sound even more sultry than before..? All panting, just as his low-lidded eyes fell on yours. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now..”

Just for a moment, you were speechless. Now, you were really feeling the effects. Kissing’s never felt this good before..ever. And that haze from before? It was becoming a lot more prominent. “My head..feels weird..” You breathed out, finding yourself gradually heating up..from the inside.

“Ah, you’re catching on, pretty boy.” Catching on? To what exactly?

Instead of giving any sort of reassurance, his knee was creating friction along your jeans that were already straining. It was all so warm..hot, burning..something was off and all you could trace it back to was the man on top of you now. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten an easy mark like you..you really did make this way too easy, handsome.” He purred, trailing kisses and nips down your collarbones—exposed by your loose hanging shirt—and down, down, down.

It was so heated, every touch he showered your body with, even the simple action of him sliding his fingertips under your tee and dragging the fabric up was enough to make you squirm.

“What are you..talking about..?” You managed to say, relatively snapping back to a bit of reality. Despite how he was already kissing down from where your ribs connected under your skin, past your midsection and laving his tongue over your navel—it was obvious he was avoiding your questions.

Deft fingers picked apart the button of your pants, leaving them hanging open until he was back over top of your face. Satoru was analyzing your features, each twitch and shift in expression—the effect he was having on you. 

It was utterly adorable.

Watching that stressed, pretty face all night, going from ranting and raving about a man who could hardly be called such to opening up into his own drunken desire and now laid out underneath him—fuck, it was a head rush.

“You seem tense, handsome..” The name rolled off his tongue like a vice and you could’ve sworn you were hooked. “Are you finally realizing what you got yourself into, hm?”

It was only a second. You blinked, eyes already squinting through each glance up at him and before you knew it he wasn’t..him anymore. With each passing open and shut rhythm it was something:

First his teeth, he was speaking but God knows you weren’t tuned in. Then the hands that had once been so soft, neatly cut and filed down grew into something sharp—clawed. And finally, there were those damn horns. You wished, hoped prayed that you were just too out of it to really be seeing straight but..it was real.

That cute bartender, the one who had teased and teased, led you on and wrapped you around his finger for the night..was a demon. An incubus at that—which, when it dawned on you, became even more of a problem.

Obviously, the first reaction was panic, a widespread “fight or flight” response that gradually was dimmed out. Next thing you knew, he was laughing..like, genuinely, cracking the fuck up. He could see the struggle in your eyes, the burning want, the need to fight back but oh..that little party trick from earlier was doing its job.

“Shh, shhh..it’s alright, nothin’ to worry your pretty little head about. Relax f’me..thaaat’s it..” He was speaking so slowly, so tauntingly, it felt like he was dumbing you down with his voice alone. “Fun fact about incubi—their spit counts as raw aphrodisiac..”

He leaned in closer, licking away a stray tear that had rolled down to the peak of your cheekbone before disappearing onto the warmth of his tongue. “And another fun fact..you kiss like a fuckin’ pornstar.” Already, his mouth was in desperate need of some soap.

If it’d stopped there, that would’ve been ideal. You could barely think straight, poor thing. A little too turned on for a first time, scared out of your wits, and still..still wanting to go further. You wanted him to take you further.

“Don’t you worry about a siiingle thing,” A low purr would escape him as his hands’ earlier work at your shirt finally finished, sliding it up and over your head until it was then pulled right around your wrists—he made it so. “Let me do allll that fuckin’ work for you. I told you you’re a part of my job, didn’t I..?”

You took in a shuddering breath, head instinctively flicking over to the side with a subtle roll of your hips. Oh-so absentmindedly your movements were..because as his nails made their tracings along your skin—from your chest, where he leaned all the way down just to shower your sensitive buds with the utmost attention, to how his palms then rubbed over your hips—you were just grinding.

Grinding it out on the rough fabric covering his knee as he steadily worked you over. His tongue felt..different. As in, before, it was..softer, more inviting, cute even. But now..? God, it could’ve wrapped around your cock twice and still reach the base with ease. That was a bet.

He was reveling in the series of whimpers and whines that you drenched his ears with, each one offering up a low, vibrating chuckle against your chest. 

“Mhn.. ‘Toru..” Damn, was that your voice speaking..? Where did all this “Toru” business come from..? Whatever..all you knew was it tasted like heaven in your mouth and like a siren’s call to his brain. “S-stop fuckin’ around already..demon, incubus or not, you got me hot and bothered so deal with it—properly.”

A round of tutting left him as he finally detached himself from your now-swollen nipples, only to go back in to land a bite and minor tug on one of them. Already, the action alone had your legs trying to close up around his, stomach fluttering just from the feeling of his sharp canines digging in. Oh you knew he left a mark. You could already feel it.

Just as quickly as he doled out his physical reprimand, he was back to his affectionate, lewd lapping at your nub, alternating between each and giving whichever was orally unattended, pinches and rolls between his fingers. “I thought you liked foreplay, pretty boy..don’t tell me you got a little impatient and changed your mind?”

“You’ve got the brain of a whore and the body of a virgin—what kinda joke is that?” Sitting back on his haunches, both of his hands crossed over his pelvis, gripping the ends of his shirt as he tugged it off over his head. In all honesty your body had a reaction to that—a small gasp that he undoubtedly heard as well. 

The shocking part wasn’t even the sheer cut of him, no, but the pair of wings that accompanied. A dark, charcoal black that differed so heavily from the pure white that his hair adorned. Stemming from his chiseled shoulder blades like a stalk.

His attention ran right back to you as he readjusted himself between your legs, both hands snaking to your inner thighs as he parted them like a sea: slow and deliberate. One of them trailed up further..coming to rest just before your groin where he splayed his fingers out.

“Hey,” A more baritone call for your attention as he stared you head on. “This is gonna really suck while I’m not inside you so..hold out for me, ‘kay?”

Rubbing soothing circles over where his fingers had found purchase, he rolled his hips forward, cracking that smile that was now sullied by the sharpness of his once-straight and narrow dental set. “You can hold out f’me, right?”

He wasn’t even asking. He talked like it was a fact.

“Nah, I know you can..you can take anything I throw at you..” Before you could even deny it, to tell him to reevaluate his expectations of your threshold, it was in motion. 

The surging energy that he flowed out into your lower body first, then the crackle of electricity that followed suit, gradually descending into a sickening ache inside that felt like an inferno needing to be quelled. You squirmed and writhed, fragile fingers threatened to tear up your sheets as your strained voice caught up in your throat. 

Eyes squeezed shut as you grit your teeth so hard you thought they could’ve cracked from the pressure. He was murmuring words of praise, encouragement, of urging you to endure it. And after a bit, it was less painful and more just a throbbing need that already had you breathless.

“Haah..fuck, what is..God..” The last name was said like it was the worst of profanity as you finally worked up enough gall to look down. Once his hand lifted from its place, that’s when you saw it. 

Right there, just below where your stomach ended and your happy trail began—a fucking womb tattoo. 

No, like, for real. It was engraved in your skin, staining your flesh that same charcoal black with the intricate scrawl of abstract twists all centered around a hollow heart design. 

Fuck how it looked though—your body was screaming.

Just from the proximity alone from Satoru, it was getting harder to breathe, harder to even think straight and his pants weren’t even off yet. Was this the power of a real fucking demon? Able to bring a man to his knees with just a few well-placed touches and words of slutty promise?

“Toruuu..it burns..” A pathetic whine fell from your lips as you ran your hands down to try and soothe the ache. But not only with your shirt tangled up along your wrists but one of his own pinning them back against the headboard, you were stuck. 

That roll of his hips had gotten bolder, more rhythmic..you could feel how much he was into this. Not only by the way he seemed to do it mindlessly, his breathy pants and the slight flutter of his abnormal appendages, but God..the fucking print.

Oh, it was fucking big.

Here he was, trying to keep you under control when he seemed like he would burst at the seams with one wrong move. “I know, I know..I feel it too, baby..” This whole time, he’d been rather composed—you know, while making you fall apart—but even now, it seemed hard for even him to keep himself under control.

“Tell me,” There went that damn tone again, though, instead of that cocky arrogance, it was almost desperate. “Do you want this as much as I do..? Don’t think with your dick right now, as hard as I know that is to do that right now…”

Trailing off, his free hand cupped your jaw, making blown pupils meet the zeroed. You could’ve gotten high off the eye contact alone at this point. “Say the word and I’ll stop—you won’t have to remember this ever happened. You’ll forget everything about me, your body will go right back to how it was and..I’ll be gone.”

“But I’ll miss this face..those eyes, your voice..oh…” No matter how much he was prioritizing you, how much he meant every word he said..he couldn’t help but pray, beg for God to do him a solid and let you say yes to this. “Come on, pretty boy..”

“Talk to me.”

It was less of an asking and much more like a command. Your hesitation was so evident in the way your breath hitched with each labored inhale and exhale. The proposition was set but the real question remained unanswered—were you really about to give up your virginity to an incubus..?

…

Well..yeah.

Making sure you never took your eyes off him, after what felt like an eternity, you uttered, “I crave it, Toru..please, don’t get me all the way here and leave me..I need you. Need to feel you in places I don’t know exist…” And with a final batting of your lashes, you breathed, “..need you to fuckin’ ruin me.”

That did it.

“Goddamn your mouth is so fuckin’ nasty,” Like a flip switched in his brain, he was on you. Gone was the gentle caress of his kiss—replaced by the starved devouring of your lips, teeth and tongue as he finally got serious. “I cannot wait to break you the fuck in.”

And by God did he mean it in every sense of the word. 

His hands were everywhere: your hips, thighs, face, anywhere he could get a feel for you. A feel for the heat that you were radiating and pouring off in gallons. It didn’t take long at all for him to start tugging at the rest of the clothing that was keeping him from what he was gunning for.

Bits and pieces of fabric stripped away like nothing but an inconvenience before being discarded into the growing pile of articles on the floor. Once you were laid out bare in front of him, you faintly caught wind of an instinctive, “Fuck..” Slipping from his mouth before he was already hooking your leg onto his shoulder. 

Even in his haste, he was handling you with sooo much care. His bites felt like nips and grazes before he was leaning in closer..further up until the heated inner of your thigh was burning the side of his face. He stayed there for a moment closing his eyes like he was an aerosol fiend.

But oh, oh when those glaciers met your gaze again, he bit down, hard. Those canines of his were a force to be reckoned with because the yelp that tore from you upon the breaking of skin was awful.

“What the hell, Toru..?” You complained, furrowing your eyebrows down into an expression that was meant to be scolding but you couldn’t deny the way the new addition to your skin was twisting your perception of pain and pleasure oh so deliciously. 

And boy did he know. One turned into two and gradually, your thighs were stained with his saliva and the clear imprint of his teeth—slightly bloodied and hickeys for daaays. 

At one point, you’d closed your legs up around him, a feeble attempt at a timeout but he wasted no time in prying then right back open, lowering his head enough to lick a looong, slow stripe up your neglected cock that had been sitting so pretty on the sidelines. 

You really were acting like a virgin—the simple lick making your hips lift up just a bit before the contact was taken back away. A whimper of protest was heard at the loss of sensation and before you knew it, he was speaking again. “Ahh, is that what you want, pretty boy? Hm?”

Although his eyes were on you right now, he couldn’t help but feel the effects of not only smelling—seeing, touching, breathing—but tasting you on his tongue. All the while with both hands busy and his pants seeming like the greatest obstacle on Earth. But he digressed, bringing up a sharp-nailed hand to press his palm down juuust enough to glide up and dig your length a bit further against your stomach.

“Wanna feel my mouth giving all my attention to this cute cock of yours, hm?” A drawl of a question and you were already getting driven up the wall by the physical aspect that came with it. “Come onnn, what did I say about using your words, sweetheart?”

Did he like..need you to die in the process of all this?

A simpering moan was all your mind could muster up before you let out a light puff, willing yourself to meet those eyes that seemed to be doing more work than anything else right now. “Please, Toru..You’re driving me insane..” Breathless and absolutely helpless—just how he liked you.

The verbal queue was all he needed. With one chuckled out, “Good boyyy.” Oh he was getting to work.

That tongue that had seemingly grown in measure was going alongside with his hands—smooth and soft, yet a little calloused—that took your aching shaft up into his palm. He fucking kissed up, from base to tip and then swiped his tongue back and forth under your sensitive frenulum before using those plump lips to give playful sucks to your weeping slit.

Swirling that aphrodisiac-saliva slick all over until you finally caved, pulling your forearms in front of your eyes and just barely stifling out your voice from behind them. The muscles in your thighs were just shivering, and he hadn’t even taken it all in yet.

God you were fucking hopeless.

Satoru’s hands rubbed soothingly along your inners as he showered your cockhead with sooo much care. It was so much yet still not enough. “Mhn..f-fuck, deeper..please..” Even as you begged for more, your body was following its own rhythm, hips bucking up into the inviting heat of his mouth. “Come on..you’re a..haah, demon, right..? This is your job..right?”

“Then give me more.” You were taken aback by the urgency you held in your voice and he clearly was too—seeing as his tongue stopped its endless movement that had remained focused solely on the tip of your member. And in one, sharp-toothed grin, he was following your words to the letter.

Oh and God could you tell he had the experience of a lifetime. From head to base, he took it alll down. He even did the courtesy of holding his mouth there, swallowing around every delicious inch like it was the sweetest candy he’d ever. Fucking. Tasted.

The sensation was enough to make your head finally fall back into the plush pillow set that decorated the top of your bed, shuddering out a throaty groan and ultimately a sigh of relief. His tongue got back to work, even though he wasn’t moving his head, you could feel the methodical patterns he made along the underside, around—even going as far as to trace the veins that pulsed with each flick.

But when he started to move? Your eyes fluttered back like you were experiencing the first effects of anesthesia. Even with his sharpened set, you didn’t feel one bit of teeth.

The worst fucking part was those damn eyes.

You were avoiding his like a plague but you could feel them burning holes through you as your fingers raked through your hair. Yeah, you’d gotten sucked off before but goddamn, he was sucking the soul out of you. 

Finally, your lids managed to peel open when your legs began to tense up, mindlessly rutting your pelvis up and down, just so desperate for that high you could feel coiling in your stomach. He noticed all the squirming, could taste the bittersweet of pre that dripped into his tongue each time he pulled his head back up—you both knew you were close.

A series of careening moans later and he pulled his lips off of you with a wet pop, putting in the effort to spit directly on the tip, rubbing his thumb over that weeping slit until you were sure you’d cramp up. His hand already picked up where his mouth left off and he was just heaving those barely useful, hot, shuddering, laughing breaths onto the connection of your shaft and head.

“You taste like fuckin’ heaven, pretty boy,” He said with a bit of a cockdrunk smile on his face. Those charcoal wings gave their own fluttering of excitement—now that you were slightly able to focus on something else other than his oral cavity. “I could suck this cock for hours and I’d keep going even when my jaw locks.”

And he wanted to talk about your mouth being nasty?

He brought his other hand to help with the job, left moving in short, up and down motions whilst the other was simply bullying the entrance of your urethra. Your hands, on the other hand, were simply just trying to find purchase on anything you could get them on.

The sheets, the pillow, your own tousled locks—whatever to help you cope with the burning need in your gut. “Oh f-fuck, oh God..‘Toru, Toru..!” You tumbled out in a hurried fashion as both your hands tried to close either ends of the pillow over your face to possibly shield you from the embarrassment..from those damn eyes. “Close.. ‘m close..s-so fuckin’..fuuuck..”

Vocabulary falling short, you heard the deep chuckle that he made, followed up by such a soft coo—all the while he was making you feel euphoric. It couldn’t have felt this good in its own..right? Sure, being a virgin was one thing but you’d gotten handys and blowjobs plenty of times before. It had to be that damn mark..right?

“Look at you..aww, you poor, poor thing,” The lilt in his voice made a whine of annoyance and frustration die out in the pillow that now barely masked your features. “You feelin’ it? My hands, my mouth, my breath..oh it’s just too much isn’t it? If you can’t handle this..”

He trailed off like he finished the sentence once in his head before finally verbalizing it, “Just how are you going to manage with my cock fucking you stupid? Huuh?” 

Automatically, you felt another surge when his words reached your brain—not your ears but after they registered—and you were damn near trembling with the effort to hold back and keep up the tedious conversation. Or, it seemed rather tedious..to you. 

“Can you imagine it already, huh? How it’s gonna feel when I finally sink in, the draaaag..Your eyes going cross when I bottom out, when you can feel me all the way up to your stomach—” He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before you were sent tumbling over the edge in a fit of muffled profanity and swears.

Once again, that raspy chuckle of his echoed against your walls, only quieted down when his lips wrapped around the twitching and now pulsating head of your cock that emptied out straight into his waiting maw.

He closed his eyes, you heard—and felt—his low hums of appreciation as he drank it all down like he was on the brink of dehydration. As he did, the symbol along your pelvic bone started illuminating the small space it took up. It was almost hypnotizing..

After what seemed like absolutely forever, you fell back into the pillows with strained sounds of your come down, looking down to find Satoru’s glaciers staring right back up at you through those snowy lashes. You’d expected a witty remark but he simply pulled his lips off, holding your softening shaft in one hand as he opened his mouth up.

There, you saw the aftermath of your own premature climax. Immediately, your face lit up with a deep crimson. “Jeez, I thought you swallowed already..!”

He shook his head, smiling cheekily.

“Are you waiting on my say-so..?” 

A bout of silence..then another nod.

You pulled a face, glancing off to the side and only coming back when he gave a few more teasing strokes that made you yelp in frustration. “F-fine..! Swallow, spit, I don’t care..I just..”

“I just want to stop the burning in my stomach..it feels like…I’ll die without it—without you..” You breathed. “So quit fucking around and do me right.”

That did it for him, seeing as he swallowed with haste and stuck his tongue out to reveal the—relatively—empty contents. What he did next was more bold.

Slowly, surely, he raised his head up, peering in over you. Even after all this and such a lack of clothing, the scent of his cologne still drenched your senses and managed to make your vision just a bit hazier in the proximity. All of that amplified ten-fold when he sealed your mouths together.

Sloppy, and riddled with the taste of your own cum, he was taking your breath away with each slick slide of your tongues along one another. A heady mixture of that delicious aphrodisiac and something uniquely his.

This entire time he’d been so patient. Dragging it on for what seemed like absolute ages. So when you felt his hand sneaking down—past your navel, not at all skipping your sensitivity—and finally down to your patient, waiting, hole. 

Just the graze was enough but when two—not one—of his lengthy digits slid in, and his breath began to fan across your face with each break of this kiss..it was showtime.

“Fun fact, pretty boy..” He’d say, curling his fingertips into a spot you couldn’t even reach properly before you met him. “This, this little symbol right here..?”

As your legs were starting to clamp up, he used his free hand to trace over the tattoo embedded into your pelvic bone. “Makes things sooo much easier for me—for us..” Trailing off, he had gotten just mildly carried away as he hit that sweet nerve inside that elicited such a tantalizing sound to drip from your lips. “It gets you all nice and ready for me and I don’t even have to do anything too bad, t’ya..”

“Ain’t that exciting?” Chiming, he got his answer via the resurgence of your erection against your stomach. 

This was his element and clearly he was thriving.

The sound of his digits knuckle deep inside—stirring up the fire that was raging in yourty core—bounced off the walls like a symphony. 

Your voice was only getting sweeter and sweeter, falling on his ears in a way that made his previous, mindless, grinding down into the sheets seem like it would never be enough. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Not with your tight heat already pulsing and gripping his fingers like a vice, giving him a perfect demonstration of what he could be buried in right now.

“C’monn, I’ll talk you through it if it hurts too bad but..fuck…I can’t hold off anymore,” He slid his fingers out of you, but not without a shiver running up your spine. 

Drifting downward, he undid—what he would call—his restraints and slid off everything from the waist down. Once he kicked it off to the edge of the bed and over, Satoru sat up on his knees and began fisting the base of his thick shaft.

“You’ve been leading me on all night..a man can only take so much you know..” It was almost a whining complaint that he twisted into a slight reprimand. “Let’s take this all the way. Let me get you there. You know I’ll fuck you so right in all the wrong ways.”

Panting now, he looked down at how your body was screaming with Fahrenheit and anticipation as much a him. The puddle of slick pouring out into the slight indents of your abdomen from your sobbing cockhead—that, amongst others let him know just how he was getting to you. 

Just a bit of finger fucking and you were already like this..? He couldn’t even begin to fathom how you’d be when all 7.4 sunk in.

A whine trailed out when, the slight of fullness had been removed from your pulsing walls. “‘Toru..” You frustratedly simpered out, covering up your eyes with your forearm. “Quit f-fucking playing..”

“Playing? I’m just waiting for you to drop the attitude and ask me how you know you’re s’posed to.” He snipped back. “You’re the one squirming around and enjoying yourself getting off on my hand but you’re still so confident.”

You bit back a groan at his bratty response and shivered out a sigh. “I’m..sorry.”

“For..?”

“For giving you lip about how you’re not inside me right now.”

He shrugged his shoulders and slid his dripping tip along the crevice of your as—teasing you with his hips each time it caught on the rim. “I think you can do better than that..” Each pass spreading the slick that was artificially—or ‘magically’—pouring out of you and the fat drops of pre that were coming from Satoru.

Leaning your head back, down into the pillow, you began to speak, “Haah..for being..defiant—”

“Look me in the eyes when you’re asking me for something. That’s common courtesy.” With a slight bite, he pressed the tip past just a bit and it was enough to make you trip up in your sentence.

Your arm fell from over your eyes and to the side of your head as you stared up at him with all due reluctance. It was mildly hard to tell with how your features were already being contorted by the promise of more. “I’m sorry for being..mhn..defiant. I’ll listen, I’ll be..good for you. So please give me what I want..” 

“Atta boy.” He purred, taking that as a sign to ‘spontaneously forgive you’. In reality—he just hadn’t expected you to beg so fucking nicely with just a bit of teasing. Next thing you knew, he was bottoming out inside you.

The pathetic sound that your mouth produced was one you didn’t know you could make before. A gradual and steady ease into it would’ve been better but oh he did the exact opposite of any of that. He had let out his own slightly pained groan at the sheer grip that you had on every inch you’d taken so gracefully. Eyes falling directly down onto you, he gave a half-smile that was somewhat meant to convince himself, just as much as you that it wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“Holy shit..fuck you feel…fuck..” Vocabulary failing for what felt like the first time during the entire encounter, you heard the light fluttering of his wings up on his shoulders–most likely compensating for the way his hips had jutted to a stop after the initial breach of both your senses. 

The cherry on top had to be the fact that he had pressed down riiight onto that little symbol of yours. Exactly where you could feel his cockhead nestled so snugly inside. It didn’t help that the veins were pulsing as they struggled to all find purchase within your sopping wet hole. He pushed your legs back by your knees–not into a full-on mating press yet but just enough so he could start rocking and setting up a steadfast rhythm inside. 

You thought it’d be easier to–well, who are we kidding? It was already hard enough for you to deal with him just being inside but now with that drag that was building up the friction your body felt like it’d been waiting ages for; you were already rendered a stuttering, tensed up mess. 

Rampant fingers scrambling for him and finally pulling him down on top of you by the base of his horns, you earned a groan that faded off into a dry laugh. “Aw, already can’t seem to get me close enough? I’m already all the way up in your stomach, you know..”

“I..mnh..I know, I know..f-fuck, ‘s just..a lot.” You pieced together, even with the currents that were creating seas of pleasure through your veins. It was like each time he pulled out and dropped all the way back down into you, his throbbing cock found new spots to bully and pinpoint. “.. ‘Yer fillin’ me up so much I c-can barely think straight, ‘Toru..”

That hanging coo of his name made his heart–and well, dick–throb as he furrowed his eyebrows in slight concentration. He was building up a sweat, easy to tell from the droplets that slid down his brow ridge and past his face to fall onto you. 

“Are you sure you’re a virgin..? Or do you just naturally say shit that makes me want to give up on trying to fuck you slow?” He grunted, each time with a deep grind against your deepest parts.

At one point, he went into what felt like full downward dog and that alone was enough to prove his question to be redundant. Poor you, you didn’t even know what that bit of hip curvature could do before you were shuddering out a premature orgasm that startled the both of you when it hit. You were slightly mortified at the fact you’d cum from just a few well-placed strokes but to Satoru, you couldn’t have stroked his ego any better. That little emblem glowed it’s white shimmer until your climax subsided, Satoru never really stopping his motions until you were completely sated and now thoroughly heightened in your nerves. “Fuck, ah, s-shit, I’m sorry I didn’t think I’d–”

“Why’re you apologizing for that?” He laughed out. “It’s only your first of tonight, anyway. Might as well get used to it..” Giving another scan over your body, he could see and feel just how much each little detail was contributing to the state you were in now. “Hey, can you..get on all fours for me..?” “Why..?”

“I want to see if you can get a few back to backs while I’m hitting it from the back.” So chipper about it, you couldn’t help the slight twist of annoyance that came with it. To him it was worth it though, just to see your face get all pouty about the matter. 

Slowly withdrawing, he eased you off of your back with a flawless handling of your waist and legs, making sure not to give you too much ragdoll treatment–yet. Your face naturally landed into the pillow with a muffled ‘hmph’ and just seconds later, you felt his thumbs spreading your hole out. He was admiring the view and your face grew hotter with each passing instant that you could feel his eyes lingering there. 

“Do you mind–”

“Hush up, f’me. Let me enjoy this fully–it’s not every day that I get to fuck virgins so I’m trying to make you last.”

You let out a lengthy groan into the fabric before speaking again, “Why can’t you just fuck my brains out already..that is your job. Not to tease me until I can’t take it anymore..” “Oh, trust me, sweetie,” All matter-of-factly, he leaned down to nip and bite at the exposed skin of your shoulder, moving to lick a stripe from your tailbone, all the way up until he placed another loving set of teeth marks at the nape of your neck. “If that was enough to make you finish quick as you did–you wouldn’t be able to handle all that. I’m doing this for your sake, so try and sound a bit more grateful.”

Whatever bratty remark you had to give afterward was silenced by the sound and feeling of a fat wad of his saliva coming into contact with your puckered entrance. A mild shiver and you could’ve sworn that the tips of your ears were redder than ever. It also didn’t help the fact that he began that languid stroking of his angry cockhead all along the crevice that he’d spread out so gracefully and politely.

Throaty grunts–some fading into soft, almost tender moans–fell on your ears in an increasing succession. It was enough to drive anyone far up the wall. Especially when he’d already given you such a clear-cut example and beautiful snippet of what was to come.

Almost on their own, your hips began to bounce back on him in the slight of chasing more of the friction that was your only–inadequate–sense of relief. “Aww, ‘s the matter, pretty boy?” Once again, that patronizing coo of his pet name stole a whimpered complaint from your mouth. It felt mostly on deaf ears with your face being so submerged into the plush. “Doesn’t this feel soo nice? Hm? Remember what we talked about..”

“I-it does..it feels..hah, amazing…” You’d meekly reply.

He cocked his head to the side, angling an eyebrow at you before planting an arm squarely beside your face, then using his free hand to guide your eyes up to his. “Buttt..”

“I told you..” It was then that Satoru got to see the true effect of all his ruthless teasing–you were already tearing up. His snow blues widened at the sight of the mild wetness that had begun to spring from your eyes and stain your cheeks. “..‘S not enough..I’m burning inside and you’re being fucking..mean.” 

Oh, but how could he not? 

The entire night, you’d been casting glances, slipping words under your breath and essentially leading him all the way on. It was–one of–the more irritating ‘jobs’ that he’d ever gotten but after having a taste of you..? Seeing how those pouty expressions became twisted and eventually fell away once you really started to feel it..how could he resist..? 

“Ah, I see now..” he drawled, lining himself up once again. Luminous depths all muddled with lust and something just simply carnal lurking behind them, his breath hitched and so did yours when he slipped the tip in. As much as you wanted to recoil, he held your face there, clawed nails softly digging into your cheeks. Mouth hung open above yours, his lips just ghosted with the heat of his every exhale. “I’m sorry, baby..you must be in agony, huh..? You’ve already had such a bad night..”

Inch by inch, he watched with hawk-eyes the gradual descension of your facial expression–so needy, so fucking pathetic–alll because of him. 

Oh, that was just the half of it. 

From this angle, this position..fuck was he reaching deep. Deeper than before it felt–and even then, he didn’t stop until he was fit so snugly inside. “S-shit..might get fuckin’ addicted to this,” he huffed once again, then pressing his sweat-riddled chest against your fluttering spine. “Let me help you forget about all your problems..you deserve it. Just lie there, look good, and take everything I have to offer..” 

With that low mutter, he sealed your lips together and kicked up his rhythm–obscene and just downright filthy sounds coming from the connection between the two of you. Instead of the grind he’d grown and nurtured beforehand, his hips were slamming into you, making that harsh slap each time that his pelvis pressed up against the fat of your ass. It was enough to have your legs trembling just a few minutes in.

Over and over and over, just fucking pounding you in. Your moans and gasps for air were all swallowed up into his slick maw as he dominated the kiss with ease. His tongue was mapping out each crevice of your mouth. As much as you thought he tasted sweet enough to make your dentist fly into a fury–he thought you tasted fucking divine.

“God-damn, holy–keep it arched like this..just like..ahh…” He began to roll his head back but just as he did, your hand came up, tugging him back down over you by one of his horns. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. A brief widening of his eyes and he was now hooking his big hands into the junctures of either of your hips, pulling you back with a harsh tug that made the precision of his thrusts seem all the more brutal. 

One hand firmly clasped on the protrusion of his head, ever-adjusting, another scrunching up your poor pillow as yet another round of tremors rang out through your spine. Your lips were fallen open in such a blissed out way that all manners of sounds were coming from there. Ranging from, “Right there..! R-right fuckin’ ohhh..!” to strings of, “S-slow– mhn..! Can’t take..haah..” It was so endearing how you couldn’t even properly place what exactly it was that you really wanted.

Slithering a hand from its holster, he wrapped around, once again laying his chest on top of you but this time sinking his weight down into you in a way that made your body tense and you could’ve sworn you heard the zip! Signaling a short circuit in your brain when your prostate was dug into sooo fucking deliciously. 

What definitely wasn’t helping were the fingers that had found your sorely forgotten shaft–left to leak endless strings of pre down onto your sheets as you were dicked down into them. Methodically twisting his wrist on the upstroke, he eventually noticed how your ass was rutting back against him, encouraging him to continue his relentless pursuit. “I can’t..hngh..make you out…” heavily panting, he began to leave the back of your neck and shoulders branded with the map of his sharp canines and incisors. 

Another one of those hearty chuckles, just a little less throaty and more breathless than anything and he was kissing up along your shoulders. “You’re really something, y’know.”

“..‘Toru...”

“Yess, handsome?” That purr was enough to make you flush, maybe even a bit more than how he was literally jerking you off while keeping at a standstill inside.

Pulling your face up and out of the small huddle you’d made amongst your arms, you gave him that glossy-eyed look. Oh you felt him throb. “I’m..getting close again…”

“Oh yeah? Aaand..you’re getting close to..what, exactly?” Even now, he wasn’t letting up on his teasing, sliding his fist up to create a lewd squelching sound along your weeping tip. A careening moan stopped what you were going to say next but it was so cute to hear you struggle to form the most basic of sentences. 

“..Fuck.. ‘m gonna cum..”

“Already?” 

His response made your cheeks stain with crimson once more as you then coyly nodded along. “I want you to..cum with me…You didn’t before.” 

God. 

Maybe he was just turned on or maybe it was his heart melting, but that ignited something inside of Satoru that he couldn’t explain. All that you knew was that he was practically smothering you now, big, strong arms gathered around your head as he buried his face into the crook of your neck–fucking ramming his cock deeper and deeper with all due haste.

Your fingers came up to scratch at his biceps, clawing at the skin there as your voice grew louder and louder, more and more strained and finally being dulled out by the pillow whilst you were sent barreling over the edge. Incoherencies flowing from your mouth like a fountain–akin to how your dick was pumping out rope after rope of burning release onto the sheets. It didn’t help that even when your body grew rigid and you were shuddering through your climax–he kept going.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck..” Chanting over and over, each weighted slap of his balls up against your sore taint was plowing you through your already-powerful orgasm and straight into overstimulation. He would’ve been more gentle, would’ve stopped and maybe rubbed the rest out after you came but the way your hole was fucking clinging to him–as if begging him to stay–he knew that was a lost cause.

His breathing faltered, got caught in his throat a few times before he was whining in your ear. It was hard to make sense of, given your deliriousness and the fog that was beginning to mar your psyche but something along the lines of, “My name, f-fucking say my name..” he pleaded. “Wanna let this..whole fuckin’ neighborhood know who’s the first..who’s the best fuck you’ll ever have.”

In a blind state of compliance, you tried your hardest to follow his command.

“Satoru–”

“Fucking wrong.” He bit.

Trying again, you rolled your neck off to the side, resting your cheek down into his forearm as you helplessly mewled underneath him. So close already, his cock was pulsing inside of you with each rapidfire, short stroke he made. “Jesus fuckin’--ahh..! ‘Toru, ‘Toru..oh my fuck, ‘Toru..!” With how syrupy sweet his name sounded on your lips, it was no surprise at all when you felt the first spurts of cum begin to paint your insides when you said it.

‘Toru, Toru, Toru’ over and over--he rode out every last second of his climax with deep, guttural groans of your name, essentially returning the favor a bit. By this point, your mind was already swamped with pleasure that had long since had your eyes simply rolling. That burn had begun to dim down and it seemed as though he was spent as well–for the most part.

Basking in that pretty afterglow, he finally let some of his weight stop pinning you down to the mattress and opted for leisurely laying on top of you. “Hey, not too bad at all for a first timer.” like a switch was flipped, he was right back to his casual, smug demeanor. Still out of breath but steadily regaining his senses, he brushed back a few strands from your face before letting his softening shaft slip out. Teasing the tip a bit before the pop! rang out, almost immediately his load started to drip down your thighs.

Only then did you let your hips sink back down with an unceremonious fall.

He glanced over the sight with rapt attention–he couldn’t help but glide his fingers through the mess he’d made of you. You felt a small shiver run up your spine when he did, lifting your head up and off of the pillow just enough to look back at him through your tousled locks. “Seriously, Satoru?”

“Aww, what? I liked it when I was ‘Toru’.” He’d whined with a feigned look of dejection.

Rolling your eyes, you turned over on your back and to your surprise–the mark was gone. “Hey, where did–”

“It’s temporary,” Cutting you off just a bit, he smiled. “I came inside, I helped you out, anddd..my job is done.”

Slowly but surely, you watched all of his otherworldly features begin to retreat–his horns disappearing back into his hair, wings folding up and sliding back into place inside his shoulder blades. It looked..painful, but he hadn’t really flinched.

“Does that not..hurt at all..?” You inquired, gesturing toward the clear expanse of skin where his horns had been before.

All he did was shrug it off, bringing a hand up to his neck as he scratched the back of it lightly. “Huh..? Ah, I guess not. It’s sort of like..when humans naturally lose teeth. Orrr, growing and cutting off nails.”

“Kinda gross.” 

“You didn’t seem to find any part of me gross a few moments ago,” Swinging his long legs off to the side of the bed, he leaned down to tug his pants back on, keeping his belt messily undone. In another moment, he stalked over to your bathroom and you sat up a bit straighter, pulling your legs into yourself a bit. Your face fell as you thought it was simply over just like that. Well, until he came back with a towel from the cabinet. “Humans are so odd. Keeping towels in such places–they go on racks.” he’d grumbled as he made his way over to you.

Stepping back into frame, he saw the way your face was just a few seconds away from tearing up. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re hurt somewhere..” his features fell somber as he cupped your face, tilting it upward to look back at him. 

“N-no it’s..nothing.”

He gave a harsh scoff and once again pulled that smug smirk. “Uhuh. ‘Nothing’ my sweet ass. Talk to me, pretty boy.”

“I just thought..you’d stay a while longer.” Your eyes sideswiped away from his and all Satoru could do was smile even harder, dragging your face to his lips. Peppering kisses wherever his mouth could reach, you soon felt your face growing hotter. “Fuck–quit it..! What’s up with you-?”

Once again, another burst of laughter and he tugged away, unfurling the towel and wiping down all of your sullied limbs and taking extra time to tend to where he’d been paying the most attention beforehand. Knelt in front of you, cleaning off your inner thighs, he was humming lowly to himself. Your fingers carded through his white head of hair enough for him to look up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is this the part where you say ‘I love you’ and you ask me to stay the night?”

“You ruined the moment, so..I’ll skip over the first part and just say thanks for helping me not be an adult virgin anymore.” You remarked with a small flick of his forehead.

Shrugging, he chimed back, “So I can still stay over?”

“Of course–my couch is always open for freeloaders.” 

That was enough for him to know where he stood and get back to cleaning up his mess.

A/N: Kind of my debut into this scene..! You lot showed so much love to the mlist alone! I hope I characterized my precious ‘Toru’ well, I took inspiration. More on the way—enjoy the first commandment. 🧧

[jayflrt]

golden boy

❝ c’mon, this is exactly like the bahamas if you close your eyes. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee heeseung x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, best friends to lovers, summer romance au, rich kid au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, underage drinking, heeseung is the biggest simp ever, and he calls you princess, mc has a stepdad, she is also a little spoiled in the beginning, tooth rotting fluff (like might be the fluffiest thing i’ve written), mutual pining ofc because this is a jayflrt fic, friends being insufferable (mainly 02z)

SUMMARY ▸ in the summer between high school and college, lee heeseung is determined to make you fall in love with the city of los angeles after your vacation plans in the bahamas fall through. somewhere between the lines, though, you end up falling for your childhood best friend.

WORD COUNT ▸ 16,375 words

PLAYLIST ▸ youth by troye sivan • tongue tied by grouplove • ribs by lorde • sanctuary by joji • cruel summer by taylor swift • stars by duncan laurence

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i have been waiting AGES to share this one so i hope u guys like it !! ♡ also pls play stars by duncan laurence during the observatory scene if you’d like :’)

IT WAS THE FIRST DAY OF SUMMER VACATION WHEN YOU RECEIVED THE GOD-AWFUL NEWS.

“Your father and I are finally gonna have our honeymoon this summer!” your mother exclaimed, grinning excitedly as if she was expecting you to reciprocate the same energy.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t god-awful, but this was the one summer where you didn’t have to shoulder the responsibilities of being a student. Having recently graduated from high school, you were basking in the glow of finally becoming an adult and an incoming college freshman. You were finally free from AP exams, college applications, and the pressure of balancing academics and a social life. So, given all that, you were rather upset that your parents were leaving you behind before you had to fall into the routine of being a student all over again.

You didn’t mind having this talk. In fact, you were glad your mother was telling you in advance instead of just jetting away to another country and leaving a note behind. However, you didn’t understand why she had to have this conversation in front of your best friend, Lee Heeseung.

It probably didn’t help that you two had been joined at the hip since you were wearing diapers, but your families had gotten far too comfortable with each other. Just last week, Heeseung’s mom was asking you if you both had finally “tied the knot,” to which you replied by explaining that you had just graduated high school.

You were happy for your mother and stepfather, really. Your mother had experienced her fair share of bad relationships after your father left, so you were glad that she finally met someone so kind and genuine. You weren’t ever one to judge the men your mother brought home, but your stepfather always got brownie points for playing Mario Kart with you whenever he came over. Not to mention, he bought you the Nintendo Switch to play it on. He seemed to be the only man who didn’t feel insecure about your mother’s success and lavish lifestyle, so you only had good things to say about him.

While you were genuinely glad with the outcome of your parents’ relationship, that unbecoming, spoiled side of you was slipping through the cracks. Even your brain was shouting at you for complaining about having to stay in Bel Air for the summer. Yet, you were just far too frustrated with the bleak vision of your own summer to care about your parent’s honeymoon. In two weeks, you should have been vacationing in the Bahamas with a piña colada in your hand, not waiting for your parents to come back from Rome.

“That sounds so fun,” you chirped with fake enthusiasm, although you supposed it was easily detected due to your gritted teeth, “and that’s not gonna interfere with our trip to the Bahamas, right?” When she didn’t respond, you asked again, “Right, Mom?”

Your mother wore an uneasy look on her face at the sight of your displeasure, so Heeseung cut in quickly, “I think you should probably forget about the Bahamas this year, Y/N.”

“Heeseung!” you whined, sending him a sharp glare. He did not just tell you to forget about the Bahamas. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Not around your mom, dude,” he muttered.

“He’s right, Y/N.” Your mother smiled as she placed her hands on your shoulders. “I mean, it would be good for you to stay here with all of your friends for once; I don’t think you’ve ever not left the country for the summer.” When you sulked, your mother tried to encourage you by gently squeezing your shoulders. “Heeseung and your other friends are here, and you have a car now! Yeji’s family moved to Irvine now, didn’t they? You can drive down to see her.”

You nodded, a little more encouraged. You and Hwang Yeji had been close ever since you met at Choi Jisu’s birthday party in middle school. When Yeji’s parents decided to move to Irvine, finding that housing was much more expensive in Los Angeles County, you were absolutely crushed. Plus, it wasn’t like Orange County was any less expensive, so you felt even more bitter about their sudden move. It wasn’t like you could drive and see Yeji whenever you wanted, either; the one hour drive felt like three with all the Los Angeles traffic.

You hung your head, dejected. “I guess so.” You turned your head to the side, noticing the snicker that Heeseung was holding back. After shooting him a dirty look, you looked back at your mother. “When are you leaving?”

“This weekend,” she responded, eyes fixed on her phone screen now. “I have to sort out my PTO with my boss today, though.” She kissed the top of your head and started heading for the door, heels clicking against the linoleum flooring with each step. “I’ll see you later tonight, Y/N! And make sure Heeseung actually goes home tonight!”

You shot a glance at your friend, who didn’t seem to have a care in the world in reaction to your mother’s words.

Heeseung tended to be scared of everything—everything except actually scary things, like biblically accurate angels or the wrath of his mother.

You gave your best friend a condescending half-grin, which he returned sheepishly. As of late, Heeseung had become notorious for staying out late with Jay Park, Jake Sim, and Park Sunghoon. (Yang Jungwon often joined them, but he was adamant about going home before midnight. Something about not wanting to miss out on his beauty sleep.) Everyone thought this was the beginning of Heeseung’s teenage rebellion (which was rather delayed), but then you discovered that all they did was play games in an internet café and occasionally use their fake IDs to get into VIP lounges at clubs.

When you heard the door shut, you circled around the couch to sit next to Heeseung.

“This sucks,” you said flatly. “Summer means an ungodly rise in temperature—hot enough to melt the skin off my bones, and I’d rather have that happen while I’m sunbathing in the Bahamas!”

“Do you realize how spoiled you sound right now?” Heeseung snorted, looking up from his phone where he was playing Cookie Run from the umpteenth time. You swore he was addicted to the game despite the numerous times he told you he was just playing it as a joke. Your best friend continued, “You should be happy for your mom instead of complaining about your summer being ruined.”

You sank back in your seat. You hated to admit it, but Heeseung was right; you were being uptight about this whole situation. You just couldn’t help but feel disappointed about the one thing you were looking forward to all year long.

Heeseung leaned closer so that you both were shoulder-to-shoulder, and he nudged you. You looked over and were met with his dazzling grin. Frankly, you were honored that you were graced with his attention in the middle of his Cookie Run gaming session.

“You can spend the summer with me instead,” he offered.

You snorted. “That was gonna happen, anyway. You spend all your free time at my place.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Heeseung asked, brows knitting into a frown.

He looked at you so intensely that your breath caught in your throat for a moment. The proximity coupled with the shift in tone made you feel self-conscious, and you were scared that Heeseung was going to let some unspoken feeling slip.

However, his face broke into a mischievous grin. “You guys have a jacuzzi.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and shoved him harder. This time, Heeseung was laughing as he fell against one of the cushions on his side. You grabbed one of the throw pillows and started pummeling him with it.

“You have your own jacuzzi, too, dumbass,” you retorted. “You’d know if you actually stayed at your own house for once! Also, you’ve lost your pool privileges here after you poured bubble bath in ours.”

“Come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

“You clogged our jets and we had to pay someone to get rid of the bubbles, Heeseung.”

“Jake was the one who poured the bubble bath in!”

“And who was the one who gave him the idea?”

Heeseung grimaced, and you were seconds away from reminding him how you took the fall for him when your parents asked what happened to the hot tub. Before you could, though, he spoke up.

“I was being serious, though,” he started, “do you wanna have a fun summer with me, or do you wanna stay bitter and do nothing?”

Something about Heeseung’s condescending tone was pissing you off. You stared at him before delivering one last blow with the throw pillow.

“Ow! What was that for?!” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics; you didn’t even hit him that hard.

“I’ll see you later,” you told him, turning on your heel to head upstairs without seeing your friend out. “I have plans with Yizhuo now.”

You weren’t exactly sure how you became friends with Ning Yizhuo, but throughout high school, everyone knew the two of you came in a package deal. When you were in third period AP World History, everyone knew that Yizhuo would switch out of her second period section to be in your class; when you didn’t show up to calculus, it was no surprise that it was because you were ditching with Yizhuo; when Zhong Chenle asked Yizhuo out, he realized that commitment came with becoming your friend as well.

At first, you assumed that it was because your mothers were close, but that didn’t explain why you spent countless nights at her place and picked her up for school every single morning. Heeseung even once admitted that he was jealous of your friendship with her. He was drunk when he mentioned that, of course. He would never admit to that while he was sober.

When she got into a school on the west coast and you got into a school on the east coast, though, you thought your life was over. (When you figured out your meet-up plans were somewhat manageable, you felt a little better.)

On the bright side, you were stoked to attend Yale with your partner-in-crime, Heeseung.

“Wait! Let me drive you,” said partner-in-crime offered.

You turned to face him, wide-eyed. “It’s like a thirty minute drive, Heeseung. I’m going to her country club.”

Despite your protests, you knew that Heeseung would be more than willing to drive all the way over there. Hell, you could tell him you wanted to go to Las Vegas right now, and he’d somehow manage to arrange a trip for you two. You had never met anyone as spontaneous as him.

Now, though, you were trying to get away from him because you were a little bitter about his comment. On the other hand, you really didn’t want to drive alone, so you kept his proposition on the table.

“Oh, her country club? The one up north, right?” he inquired. “Can I bring Jake, too? We’ll just hang out at the mall while you do your thing.”

You mulled it over—not for long, though, because you found yourself caving easily. “Fine.”

You forgot that Heeseung bringing Jake meant that Jay and Sunghoon were coming along for the ride, too.

The three of them were squeezed in the back of Heeseung’s Tesla, with Jay incessantly complaining about how he had to take the middle seat. He even went as far as to compare heights, and Sunghoon used his one centimeter on Jay to his advantage. Jake remained silent for once.

You ran your finger along the smooth leather of your seat and snorted.

“Are you making fun of my car?” Heeseung asked with a chuckle.

“No, I’m making fun of how you dropped extra money for white seats.”

“And for the seven-seater.”

“What?!” Jay exclaimed, swiveling in his seat to look behind him. “And you still squeezed me in the middle seat?”

“Not my fault you didn’t look behind you, dude.”

Sunghoon and Jake proceeded to laugh at their friend, and you were about to do the same until you realized you had looked to see if Heeseung was laughing along with you. To your delight, he was. That, and the wind was blowing in his hair so perfectly. The golden sun shone across his face in a way that made his eyes crinkle up and his smile grow. You would always scold him for not having sunglasses on him, but, this time, you were a little distracted by how he glowed.

Heeseung then turned to you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh. “What’s up?”

“N-nothing at all.” You coughed, tearing your gaze away to look ahead at the freeway. “Are we almost there?”

You just then registered how the backseat had gotten awfully silent, and when you turned to check on The Three Idiots (you deemed this title upon them back in high school, and it stuck), they all had Cheshire grins spread across their faces. It was a little scary, honestly. Their antics were nightmarish on their own, but what their eyes suggested was something that would haunt you. You fought down the heat creeping up your cheeks in an effort to appear indifferent, and you turned back to look at the GPS.

Ten minutes. You had to deal with them for ten more minutes. That was 600 seconds. Maybe you could tune out the testosterone if you counted down your arrival time.

To your relief, though, ten minutes passed by much faster because the four boys got into a heated argument over the superior boba shop in the Bay Area. You had to interject by reminding them that none of them were even from the Bay Area. Heeseung wound up going on a tangent about how he and Choi Yeonjun went on a day trip last weekend, which you would have remembered “if you were a better friend.”

You did remember, actually. Heeseung was texting you the entire time about Yeonjun forcing him to choose between him or a PS5. You presumed that Heeseung chose the PS5 because Yeonjun posted a black screen on his Snapchat story with the caption “dhmu” followed by a wilting rose and broken heart emoji.

(They wound up gaming all night afterward, anyway.)

The Three Idiots sensed tension from the back seat, so they started a new debate: the superior boba shop in Los Angeles.

You couldn’t believe that this was the depth of their conversations.

When you finally arrived at Yizhuo’s country club, you were being nagged by Sunghoon to get out of the car. He was eager to go to the mall and try out a new sushi place that everyone had been raving about. For someone who seemed to lack any seriousness, Sunghoon was extremely diligent about his frequent Yelp reviews; he even got promoted to the Yelp Elite Squad.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” you complained, shooting Heeseung a withering look—a please save me from your friends, which he grinned at. “Bye, then.”

“Have fun, princess,” Heeseung called as you were closing the door, and you were grateful your back was turned so that he couldn’t see the look on your face.

(“Princess?” Jay questioned. “Did you just call her princess?”

“It’s an inside joke!” Heeseung rebuked.

“And were you just checking her out?” came Jake’s muffled voice from inside the car, and a bark of laughter followed immediately after from Sunghoon and Jay.)

You shook your head when Heeseung sped off as quickly as possible. You could picture it so vividly; he would be defending himself to his dying breath, cheeks bright red as his mouth ran. Although you found it funny, you knew that Heeseung was probably just glancing out the window to make sure you weren’t too close to the car before he drove away.

“Y/N!” Yizhuo called from the entrance. You turned to see her clad in a cotton shirt and tennis skirt, standing next to Zhong Chenle. “Did you think we were swimming or something?”

Yes, you most definitely did think you were going to be sunbathing by the poolside. With a sheer cover-up over your black one-piece, you were definitely not ready to play tennis with Yizhuo and her boyfriend. You even had your red heart-shaped sunglasses on your head.

You let out a petulant whine, taking your walk of shame over to the two. “I’m already in the racquet club, so why would I come here to play more tennis?”

Yizhuo shrugged, but the one thing you loved about her was that she was flexible with plans. “I’ll just change into my swimsuit, then. I’ve been wanting to sunbathe,” she said before handing Chenle her racquet. “Looks like doubles didn’t work out. Are you and Jisung good with playing singles?”

“I don’t mind as long as I win,” Chenle answered with a grin. “See you two later.”

He was clearly delighted because you were probably the only competition he had to worry about. You were sure Park Jisung would complain when he found out that you weren’t going to be his partner. Jisung was utterly hopeless when it came to tennis—or, rather, he was scared of anything flying in his direction.

Yizhuo grabbed her Prada leather tote bag, pulling out a white two-piece with a gold clip in the front after some digging. She excused herself to change quickly, and came back within five minutes. You were grateful she came prepared. For her, though, it was inevitable considering she drove thirty minutes most days to lounge around her country club with Chenle.

“They’re renovating the banquet room right now,” Yizhuo informed as she settled into the lounge chair next to yours. “I was going to invite you for the opening next week, but you’re gonna be in the Bahamas, as usual.”

“Yeah, about that,” you drawled, “vacation plans fell through, so I’m not going anymore.”

“What?” Yizhuo sat up, startling the server who brought over cocktails on a silver plate. “But you always go to the Bahamas!”

You gingerly took one of the cocktail glasses, mouthing your gratitude before turning your attention back to Yizhuo. “My parents wanna spend their honeymoon alone, and Heeseung thinks I’m acting spoiled.”

Yizhuo smirked against the rim of her glass. “How is it that Heeseung always manages to come up in our conversations?”

“He doesn’t!” you exclaimed. “He’s just always around, you know? Like a fruit fly.”

“Just like how Chenle’s always around?”

“Chenle’s your boyfriend; Heeseung’s just a gnat.”

“I’m telling you, Y/N, you and Heeseung are the dictionary definition of couple behavior. I swear, you two are meant for each other.”

You sighed. “Heeseung and I have been best friends since, like, forever. Our relationship is just… different from my other friendships.”

Yizhuo raised a brow, a coy smile still creeping across her face. “So how come you refer to everyone else as friendships, but with him it’s a relationship?”

“Psychoanalyze much?” You sent a mocking smile right back at her. “Can I not have a friend of the opposite gender anymore?”

“You can have one that doesn’t make heart eyes at you,” Yizhuo replied with a scoff. “I’m telling you, the guy’s head over heels.”

“Whatever.” You slipped your sunglasses down to rest on the bridge of your nose. You didn’t want to think about potential romantic feelings for your best friend that could threaten the stability of your life-long friendship. “Let’s circle back to what’s actually important: my summer.”

“Poor Heeseung.” Yizhuo tutted. “Bahamas over love.”

“Love can happen any time,” you said, “but the window of opportunity only opens once, and that golden period is the summer between high school and college. Think about it, Yizhuo! Every summer after this one is gonna be loaded with classes, internships, and work.”

“So, what’s your game plan?”

You pondered on her question. There were only so many options you had, and, clearly, going to the Bahamas was not one of them. Honestly, you hardly felt like a real Californian with the little knowledge you had about what you could even do around your area; all you could think about was the beach or Disneyland. Plus, with Yeji doing a summer program in Irvine and Yizhuo spending her days at her country club, you didn’t have much room for spontaneous activities with them.

Unless you wanted to spend every single day like you would on a regular weekend, you had to find someone who knew how to make things fun.

And, unfortunately, that narrowed it back down to Lee Heeseung.

You turned back to Yizhuo with a sheepish look on your face. “I think I have an idea.”

“Be my summer escort service.”

“Excuse me?” Heeseung nearly choked on the tea your mother made for him. You watched as he set the cup down as delicately as possible while his eyes welled up with tears. He hit his fist against his chest a few times before calming down. “I don’t think you know what an escort service entails, but I think I know what you’re getting at.” He grinned slowly. “You’re taking me up on my offer.”

You did a lot of thinking on the car ride back to Bel Air.

A lot of thinking during the time when Sunghoon wasn’t complaining about the quality of the sushi place they went to. You were almost inspired to write a negative review yourself because of how passionate he was.

“Well, it’s inevitable that I’m gonna be seeing you almost every day, anyway,” you said, “so we might as well make the most of it, right?”

“I knew you’d turn around.” Heeseung reached over and ruffled your hair. “I’ll make sure you have the best summer of your life, Y/N.”

Lee Heeseung excelled at virtually anything. You were sure he would surpass your expectations with these impromptu summer plans, too.

You deemed the nickname “Golden Boy” upon him for this very reason, and it had everything to do with the fact that Heeseung was absolutely perfect at everything he did.

For a while, you even coined a theory that he had been created in a laboratory, specially designed to be absolutely flawless in every way imaginable. Of course Heeseung was born rich, smart, and handsome. Some people were just born lucky into the world, and, when you were younger, it was harder to accept that. Heeseung grew up with the world at his disposal; he got everything and anything he wanted, but that didn’t necessarily mean he took his privilege for granted.

You had to admit that Heeseung was a hard worker when it came down to it. Although he was definitely affluent as a fourth generation trust fund baby, Heeseung made sure his parents were never disappointed with his results.

Throughout high school, he consistently ranked first every single year, always coming right above you after the semester ended. Not to mention, he had even been scouted by several Division 1 schools to join their soccer team. He was even published at the mere age of sixteen for the research he did with a college professor. And, with a face and personality like his, any reasonable mother would’ve loved for their daughter to bring Heeseung home for dinner.

Another thing he never failed to accomplish was making you absolutely flustered.

“Well…” You turned your cheek. “I always have fun when I hang out with you, so don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late. It’s getting to my head.”

You groaned.

“Hey, we might as well have fun,” Heeseung tried. “It’s not like any of us are vicariously living through each other’s summer romances.”

“Whoa. You said ‘each other.’”

“Yeah?”

You shot him a questioning look. “You’re implying that you have a summer romance that I’m not allowed to live vicariously through.”

“What? No!” Heeseung frowned as he tried to do the mental gymnastics to piece together your reasoning. “I said—actually, you know what, it doesn’t matter what I said. Who cares about being cuffed? Let’s just enjoy the last moments of our youth.”

“You know what, you’re right,” you agreed, getting fired up just by his words. Maybe it was the realization that time was fleeting, but you were determined to have the best summer ever now. “This summer, I’m Percy and you’re Grover. No one’s getting in the way of our side quests.”

“Why do I have to be the half-barnyard animal sidekick?” Heeseung deadpanned. “Can’t I be Annabeth?”

“No, put some respect on a satyr’s title.”

Your best friend picked his cup of tea back up when it had cooled. He blew gently on the surface before taking a careful sip, and then confidently drank more afterward. He set his cup down again and held a finger up, signaling that he wanted a chance to speak again. You were half-expecting it to be about the damn Percy Jackson lore.

“Your parents leave soon, right?” he asked instead. You nodded in response, somewhat surprised about his inquiry, so Heeseung continued, “Do they need a ride to the airport? We could have a sleepover after.”

“I think—���

“We would love a ride to the airport, Heeseung,” your mother gushed from the staircase as she was lugging suitcases down, “but you’re going straight back to your house after taking my daughter home.”

Heeseung swallowed thickly. “O-of course, ma’am. Straight home.”

You pouted a little. “You’re not staying?”

He smirked a little at your reaction, and you were a little flustered and disappointed that you managed to inflate his ego even further.

“Nah, I’ll just—” Heeseung cut himself off quickly when he noticed your mother was suddenly towering behind where he was seated on your couch. “I’ll—I’ll go straight to my house, like I said.”

“Come on, let the kids spend some time together before college,” your stepfather chimed in, following suit with a suitcase of his own. “Y/N hardly ever gets to stay in LA for the summer.”

“We’re going to the same college, Dad,” you pointed out.

“Of course,” He walked over to ruffle your hair, and Heeseung stared up at him as if your stepfather was some respected higher power, “but you never know what could happen in college. People grow apart whether you like it or not, and the life of a college student gets busy, so you two might as well enjoy this summer.”

When all you could do was stare at your stepfather in horror, he added, “I’m not saying you’re gonna stop being friends! It’s just easier to spend time together now than it is in college.”

“That’s why I’m your daughter’s escort this summer,” Heeseung spoke up.

“Escort?” your stepfather pressed. “That’s… a little concerning. Keep it PG, you two.”

“It’s not like that!” you whined. “Anyway, Dad, don’t you have to get to the airport soon?”

He checked his watch quickly and nodded at your mother. “Y/N’s right. We should get going soon, honey. I’m gonna go make sure I didn’t forget to pack anything.”

With that, your stepfather jogged upstairs with Heeseung’s curious eyes following him suspiciously. When you nudged him, trying to figure out why he was mugging your dad for no reason, he grinned a little. He gestured for you to lean closer so that he could speak quietly.

You leaned in close so that your ear was by his lips, and Heeseung whispered, “He’s totally packing your mom’s honeymoon present.”

“How do you know?”

“Classic move. My brother did the same thing for his wife.”

You pulled away, covering your mouth with a shocked look on your face. You had to keep yourself from audibly gasping since your mother was only a room away. Your face broke into a little smile. Seeing someone care for your mother so deeply made you so happy, especially with how she was the one who usually put in the most effort in her past relationships.

All your life, you wanted a relationship that was the complete opposite of your mother’s; now, though, you aspired to find someone who loved you that much.

Speak of the devil. She was walking over as you and Heeseung exchanged mischievous grins.

“What’re you two smiling about?” she asked.

“Nothing!” You smiled and fixed her hair. “Have fun on your honeymoon, Mom. I’ll make sure Heeseung doesn’t get into trouble.”

“Hey!” Heeseung interjected. “I’m not even that bad! Honest-to-god, Jake’s worse than me—just ask Jay or Sunghoon. Actually, don’t ask Sunghoon because I think he has it out for me right now.” He paused before adding, “Now that I think about it, don’t ask Jay, either. Just trust me on this one.”

You scoffed. “Nice going, Hee.”

Your mother smiled, and you could tell that it was a little sad. “We’ll take you to the Bahamas next time, okay, Y/N?” She did a quick sweep of the room before leaning in a little and whispering, “By the way, your stepfather was really happy that you started calling him ‘dad’ the other day. I think he almost cried!”

You hated to admit it out loud, but you felt inexplicably happy at those words.

“I’m ready!” your stepfather called as he came down the stairs. “Do you have everything you need? Are we ready to go?”

“Ready as ever,” your mother answered and turned to your best friend. “Are you ready, Heeseung?”

“Yep.” He got up from the couch, spinning his car keys around his fingers. “Come on, Y/N. Time to say bye-bye to mommy and—ow! Don’t hit me!”

The car ride to the airport wasn’t too long, but you and Heeseung fell into an uncomfortable silence while your parents were gushing about their vacation plans to each other. They weren’t even sitting next to each other. Your mother sat next to you in the back seat and your stepfather sat in the passenger’s seat to accompany Heeseung, but they were still going back and forth. You nearly considered asking your stepfather to switch seats with you so that you wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire of their incessant flirting.

When Heeseung pulled up to the drop-off zone, however, your parents pulled themselves together in record time. You received two kisses on your head from each parent after they got out of the car.

“Heeseung, let’s walk together for a bit,” your stepfather called. When you exchanged a shocked look with your best friend, your dad clicked his tongue with a laugh. “Just until the gates over there. I need some help carrying my bags.”

Heeseung, floundering for words, wound up not saying anything and scrambled to get out of the car to help him out. The conversation seemed to be light and easygoing, but you were craning your neck out of the car window to get a glimpse of what the hell was going on.

“Mom,” you whispered harshly, “tell me Dad isn’t telling Heeseung something weird right now. He’s still traumatized from the time he was interrogated about being my Homecoming date last year.”

Since neither you nor Heeseung had actual dates for the Homecoming dance last year, he made you a poster and asked you to be his date at your doorstep. At the time, you two were binge watching Parks and Recreation together, so he used that as inspiration for your poster: Please don’t REC my plans and say KNOPE to Homecoming. You vividly recalled being impressed by how neat the handwriting was only to be told later that Yeji helped Heeseung make it.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Your mother waved it off. “You should be more worried about how Mrs. Lee calls us in the middle of the night and asks where her son is. That’s gonna traumatize your friend.”

Wow. Lee Heeseung was already a pain in the ass to begin with, and only now you realized how his mother had it a thousand times harder.

“Have a safe trip, okay?” you told your mother after you helped her bring the rest of her bags to the gate. “And—don’t worry—I know when the gardener's coming by, so I’ll be home to let him in.”

She smiled fondly and kissed your forehead. “I’ll text you when I land,” she said. “Have fun, sweetheart, but not too much fun.”

“Mom!” you complained, cringing at whatever she was implying.

Heeseung and your stepfather were already at the front doors, and your best friend’s eyes lit up at the sight of you. You wondered if he needed saving from your father, and you confirmed this when you noticed him cower a little after shaking your stepfather’s hand.

“Heeseung,” your mother started, “thanks for bringing us here. I made brownies in the afternoon, so make sure Y/N gives you some before you go home.”

“Brownies?” Heeseung turned to you with a grin and thanked your mother profusely. “I hope you guys have a fun trip.”

After you all exchanged goodbyes, you and Heeseung headed back to his car. You were able to watch your mother and stepfather disappear into the crowd, a strange feeling lingering in your chest. You weren’t sure what it was, but you supposed you felt a little lonely. This was the first summer you were spending without your parents, and you weren’t sure what to expect.

As if Heeseung could read your mind, he said, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a fun summer.”

“It better be the best summer of my life.”

Heeseung laughed and opened the passenger’s side door for you. “Then let’s start now.”

“Huh? Right now?”

“Let’s get bingsu,” he said. Come to think of it, you were craving shaved ice; you had mentioned it to Heeseung last week. “You said you were hungry, right? And then we can go home and dig into those brownies your mom made.”

“I never said anything about being hungry.”

“But you’re hungry, right?”

The corner of your mouth twitched before breaking into a little smile.

“Alright, let’s go.”

In all honesty, you didn’t expect anything special from Heeseung. That was why you had your own plans laid out for the coming week, and first on your agenda was going shopping with Yizhuo in Beverly Hills. Since your best friend was so adamant on spending the summer with you, though, you let him tag along.

“I hate you,” he muttered through gritted teeth as you handed him yet another shopping bag—Armani, this time. Heeseung was carrying at least six of them, letting them dangle off of his arms. “I said I’d show you how to have fun, not be your butler.”

“You said you would be my summer escort service.”

“Not like this!”

“Y/N, I swear,” Yizhuo started in a low voice, only loud enough to hear (although you wished you didn’t), “he’s like your boyfriend.”

You sped up to walk ahead of Heeseung, and Yizhuo matched your pace. Your poor best friend was lagging in the back, trying to keep up with the weight of your spending spree in his hands. Even though you told him virtually everything, this was a conversation that you couldn’t let him hear.

“He’s just my escort this summer!” you defended.

“His dad’s the senior vice president at Apple. You really think Lee Heeseung would just agree to be anyone’s manservant?”

“Well, I’m not anyone; I’m Y/N, and Heeseung and I have been best friends since forever, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he wants to spend time with me.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a little strange.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved off her concerns and pulled out your phone. “By the way, is the group hanging out tomorrow or something?”

“I kept seeing it in the groupchat, but I wasn’t sure whose house it was at,” Yizhuo replied. She turned and called, “Heeseung! Do you know whose house we’re all going to?”

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Mine.”

“Yours?” you chimed in. “I thought Jake said it would be at his place.”

“He backed out ‘cause his cousins are visiting this week,” he clarified, “so I offered mine. My parents are going out of town, anyway, so why not?”

You were surprised that Heeseung was willing to host. Most of the time his house was the absolute last resort because he hated cleaning up after everyone. For this reason, it was normally at Jake’s house because he was the only one who would tidy up himself without nagging everyone else (read: Jay Park).

You always went to Heeseung’s place on your own. There were never times where the entire group hung out there together, so it felt like everyone was encroaching on your space with Heeseung.

Even though it was his house, technically.

“You’re coming,” Heeseung added, pointing straight at you with narrowed eyes.

You frowned. “You can’t decide that for me!”

“You agreed to let me be your summer escort service, so it’s within my power,” he argued.

You made a frustrated sound. “Fine. It better be fun, though. I’m sacrificing my Pretty Little Liars marathon for you.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “We can just watch it together.”

“Lovebirds!” Yizhuo interjected. “I would’ve called Chenle if I knew I was gonna be a third wheel.” Both of you turned to her with wide eyes, watching the blonde’s lips curl up in a small smirk. “What?”

“That’s not what any of this is,” your best friend grumbled.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing?”

Heeseung shook his head, completely turning his face away from you. You managed to catch the tips of his ears flaming bright red. It was rather easy to make Heeseung flustered, so this wasn’t something out of the ordinary, but, for some reason, you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

He walked ahead, saying something along the lines of, “Let’s just keep shopping!”

You and Yizhuo exchanged a look before hooking arms and bursting into a fit of giggles.

Yizhuo called after him, “We’re going to Miu Miu next!”

Slumber parties with your friend group sounded cute and tame, in theory. Add six men into the mix, and they became slightly terrifying.

“This is why we need to make plans in our group chat without the men,” Shen Xiaoting muttered to you with her eyes fixed on Heeseung’s flat screen TV. “This is not the girls night I was envisioning.”

Your friend group of eleven (excluding Yeji, who was away for the summer) was currently playing their ninth round of Mario Kart 8. You were all taking turns, though, since the game only catered to co-oping with four people. Frankly, you were starting to get tired of the game after about five rounds. You were hellbent on beating Jay, who was talking smack about how terrible you were at gaming, but it turned out that he was no better. You ended up beating him in the first race itself, and now you were just waiting for them to wrap it up.

“Fuck,” Jake hissed once Choi Beomgyu used his blue shell on him. Jake had been consistently winning every game he played despite everyone trying to get him in last place; in the last round, Kim Minjeong made a valiant effort to use most of her Crazy 8 items on him.

You were surprised that Jake showed up in the first place. Everyone suspected that he would be stuck at home because of his cousins visiting, but he somehow managed to get his way out of it. Although he was late, he showed up at Heeseung’s door with a pillow and a handle of cheap vodka. It probably tasted rancid, but there was no room for anyone to complain.

“Get the item box, get the item box!” Chenle yelled. “But you’re kind of screwed if you don’t get a super horn or a super star.”

“So, when are we wrapping up Mario Kart?” Nakamura Kazuha asked, sighing in frustration after being hit with a shell for the umpteeth time.

“Uh, after this game,” Heeseung replied.

“And how many more rounds is that?”

“Three.”

“Jesus Christ.”

The only girl in your group who enjoyed gaming was Yizhuo, but even she was tired of the seemingly endless rounds. Since the boys were going along with the girls’ plans later on, though, you had to be patient. Appease them with Mario Kart, and then the rest of the night was yours.

Somehow, you managed to grit your teeth and sit through the next three rounds (won by Jake, Yizhuo, and Beomgyu, respectively). Afterward, Jake got up to grab the case of Mike’s Harder on the kitchen island. He proceeded to open it up and hand each person a can.

Xiaoting cracked open her can and asked, “How’d you even buy these? Didn’t your dad confiscate your fake or something?”

Around a few months ago, Jake’s dad had caught him wasted at one of their charity galas. Apparently, the Sims didn’t care too much about their son drinking, but they were furious about Jake acting disorderly in front of their guests. Naturally, Jake was grounded for a month and got all four of his fake IDs confiscated. He deeply missed the one from Connecticut where his name was printed as Nathan Fielder, even though Jake looked nothing like Nathan Fielder.

“I got Vernon to buy them for me,” Jake said, “and please don’t remind me about the fakes. It still wounds me to this day.”

You remembered you used to have a little crush on Vernon Chwe, who was a senior when you were a freshman. When he graduated, you almost cried actual tears, but you stayed strong when you went to congratulate him after the ceremony. You figured he would have been a little freaked out if you started breaking down out of nowhere.

Jay, who was inspecting the handle of SKYY Vodka, let out a scoff. “Vernon? Then you could’ve at least asked for good vodka.”

“We can just make mixed drinks,” you spoke up, scrunching up your nose at the memory of blacking out because of alcohol during your prom afterparties. “Plus, it’s not like we’re actually trying to get drunk tonight.”

“Yeah.” Heeseung stood up and rested his arm on your shoulder. “Y/N and I can make the drinks. The rest of you can help put snacks out. Someone can put a movie on, too.”

Since everyone was impressed with Heeseung taking the lead for once, the plan was set into motion. While Kazuha and Sunghoon bickered over which movie to play, the rest of your friends brought out different snacks for the movie. Arguably, you and Heeseung had the hardest job, but you didn’t need any extra hands for drinks. By the time it took you two to finish eleven mixed drinks, they probably would have settled on a movie.

You looked back to see Heeseung eyeballing a shot into a glass cup, and then he proceeded to down its contents. You cringed when you saw him drinking. The last time he got drunk resulted in you trying to calm him down after he went on a long rant about how he just ate sushi, and the alcohol in his system would cause the raw fish to start swimming. You had to convince him that no, vodka would not bring an already dead and sliced-up fish to life.

Heeseung’s face soured and he pushed the handle aside. “Y’know what, let’s just take something from my parents’ liquor cabinet. This shit is vile.”

“You got triple sec and decent vodka?” you asked. “We could make Lemon Drops.”

“You read my mind.”

“You weren’t even thinking about that, were you?”

“Not at all.”

While you and Heeseung were making the drinks, though, you noticed some giggles coming from the living room. You raised your head to see about five of your friends look away as fast as they could. It hit you before you had time to process what was going on; they were making fun of you and Heeseung together.

You had no clue why. Sure, Heeseung and you had some strange moments here and there. But you two were just making drinks, for crying out loud. Nothing about the situation warranted this reaction from them.

You side-eyed Heeseung to see if he noticed. Thankfully, he was just focused on pouring the right amount of vodka so he didn’t accidentally kill anyone. You, on the other hand, were fighting down the heat rising in your chest.

After a brief war between you and Yizhuo, consisting of you glaring at her and her smirking at you, you ended up setting down a glass and sighing.

“Heeseung,” you said, “go crazy with the vodka in the rest of their drinks.”

“Huh?” he asked, genuinely contemplating whether or not to do it.

“Pour as much as your heart desires,” you muttered and set down six of the Lemon Drops on a tray with a little too much force. Without sparing him a glance, you picked up the tray and went to the living room to hand everyone their glasses. While you handed Yizhuo hers, though, you whispered, “I despise you.”

She grinned. “What? Still denying you like him?”

“I don’t like—”

“You like someone?” Heeseung called from the island, completely frozen in place.

You turned and stared at him, mouth agape.

Chenle spoke up, “No, she likes y—”

You kicked Chenle’s shin with enough force to shut him up, and he grunted before he could continue his sentence. Satisfied, you turned back to Heeseung and shook your head quickly.

“They’re just being idiots,” you explained. “Hurry up with the drinks. We’re watching My Best Friend’s Wedding.” You did a double take and turned back to Yizhuo, harshly whispering, “Why the fuck are we watching My Best Friend’s Wedding?!”

Yizhuo removed Chenle’s hand from her knee and stood up to loop your arm with hers. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, but she was already dragging you away from the living room. “Is that movie supposed to be some sort of sick message?”

“Oh, good. So you’re aware.”

After making some excuse about needing your assistance to get something from her bag, Yizhuo walked with you to the foyer until she turned on you. You nearly tripped backward over one of the boys’ shoes, so you used the wall to regain your balance.

“Tell me what’s going on between you two,” she ordered.

You let out a sound of exasperation. “Yizhuo, for the last time, Heeseung and I are just friends. That’s all there is to it.”

“I’m just saying, the two of you are going to college together and all, but you have to sort out your feelings before you end up figuring them out after Heeseung finds someone else,” she said. “I mean, what’re you gonna do when Heeseung starts dating someone else? He looks decent enough to pull, so there’s no telling what’s gonna happen when he’s cut loose in Yale.”

You snorted. “He’s already cut loose. I highly doubt Yale’s gonna change anything.”

“You never know. I just don’t want you to realize your feelings too late—you know, when things get messy.”

You both were silent for a few seconds before Beomgyu called, “Y/N, Yizhuo, we’re gonna start the movie!”

“Coming!” you responded.

You chose not to respond to your best friend because you truly had no idea what to think, but it did leave seeds of doubt in your head. It almost distracted you from the fact that Heeseung grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit down next to him. This was bad; you were quickly becoming overly self-conscious of every little thing he did, and that would not bode well for your friendship.

Whatever, you told yourself. Push it down.

“Are there any more pillows?” you asked, scanning the room to see that everyone seemed to have one except you. You looked back at Heeseung and narrowed your eyes at his throw pillow. “Give me yours.”

“What? No way.”

“I wanna lay down,” you whined. He was really the only person you could act a little spoiled around. “Give me your pillow before I—”

Before you could finish, Heeseung threw his arm around you and pushed your head down so that you were laying on his lap. You were startled with the sudden gesture, but you didn’t complain. He was comfortable, after all, and you two usually watched movies like this in your house. So, you adjusted your position a little and continued watching the movie, making a mental note to scold Heeseung later for being all touchy in front of the friend group.

What you weren’t used to, though, was the way he started threaded his fingers through your hair.

You did the only thing you knew how to do in order to deflect; you showed Heeseung a TikTok of a baby otter. Your volume was all the way down, but you still bookmarked the video.

“Look,” you whispered, holding up your phone. His gentle fingers did not stop running through your hair, but at least you could hold onto his friendly hum of acknowledgement. It was the only thing that made any of this feel remotely platonic. “It’s a little guy.”

“Oh, it’s so cute,” Heeseung mused. “Kind of reminds me of you.”

Screw platonic.

He just grabbed platonic and drop kicked it to the next dimension.

That was it. You were going to put your phone away and ignore Heeseung for the rest of the movie. The rest of the movie would be watched in complete silence. In fact, you weren’t going to spare Heeseung any attention for the rest of the sleepover.

That didn’t end up happening, though. Ten minutes later, you cracked and started commenting about the movie to Heeseung. Unbeknownst to the others, you two ended up texting each other messages that threatened to make you burst into laughter. Even though you were sitting right next to each other, you felt like this made your conversation feel like a little secret, like even Heeseung wanted to keep what you two had to himself.

When the movie ended, you two were surprisingly still awake, although there were several moments where you were tempted to doze off on Heeseung’s shoulder. Minjeong, Beomgyu, and Jay were still up, and they were taking pictures of Chenle and Yizhuo to send to the group chat. You immediately separated from Heeseung, feeling a little terrified that you two would be the victims next. However, the others were so preoccupied with Chenle’s arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend and their foreheads pressed together.

“Should we wake them up?” Kazuha asked.

“Nah, let them sleep,” Heeseung answered and stood up. “I’m gonna brush my teeth. You guys can use the other bathrooms—just not the one in my parents’ room.”

Minjeong stretched as she let out a yawn. “Alright, I’m gonna wash up, then. I’m exhausted.”

After Minjeong, Beomgyu, and Kazuha left the room to get their bags and wash up, you stared at Heeseung. Your best friend looked confused until you pointed toward his glass.

“Chug it,” you said with mischief dancing in your eyes.

“You’re kidding. It’s bedtime.”

You mocked a pout. “You’re gonna waste the drink I made just for you?”

“Oh, come on—we made it for everyone!”

“But I definitely made this one.” You took the glass and held it out to him, which he ended up taking reluctantly. “I wanna see you finish it.”

After a wince, Heeseung tilted the cup back and downed the contents. Although his face scrunched up, he relaxed once he had finished swallowing it down.

“That was actually pretty good,” he said.

“See? When have I ever let you down?”

“Honestly? Many times.”

You elbowed him in the side. “Hey!”

“Kidding!” Heeseung held his arms up in surrender before wrapping them around your waist. Another gesture you weren’t quite used to, but you went along with it. There was something funny about Heeseung; nothing he did ever made you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, but sometimes you weren’t sure if it was meant to be friendly. “Let’s go brush our teeth.”

“I can just use the bathroom on the second floor.”

“Huh? Just use the one in my room,” he said. “Come on.”

You hesitated before following your best friend upstairs. First of all, you were feeling overly-conscious about going into Heeseung’s room with him. Secondly, you weren’t too enthusiastic about the fact that you had to use a man’s bathroom.

To Heeseung’s credit, he kept his room and bathroom mostly spotless. Sure, there were a few sweaters piled over the head of his chair and some books left scattered across his desk, but it was definitely cleaner than Jake’s mess of a room. You remembered Yeji stepping across his piles of dirty clothes left on the floor, as if they were hazardous to her health.

As soon as you stepped into the grand bathroom, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It wasn’t the first time this happened, so you knew to just take one of the unopened toothbrushes from the drawer. However, Heeseung told you they moved some things around, so you wound up searching for the spare toothbrushes for around five minutes.

It was almost ridiculous how Heeseung needed a bathroom bigger than a living room.

You two brushed your teeth side-by-side. Heeseung occasionally cracked jokes that made you giggle and tilt your head back so that your toothpaste wouldn’t dribble down your chin. When that happened, he reached over and wiped your lower lip with his thumb, despite your complaints about how gross that was.

But, to you, it wasn’t really all that gross.

If only Heeseung knew how his actions made your cheeks burn hot under your skin.

The next week was interesting, to say the least.

Heeseung wouldn’t let you rest for a second. You were going out with him every single day, having to see his face from sunrise to sunset. Even when it was nightfall, he would just invite himself over to your place and crash on your couch.

You pointed out that you had a perfectly tidy guest room for him to use, but he insisted that he preferred your couch. You didn’t mind him sprawled out across the cushions because you could take as many pictures of him sleeping as you pleased. You would show him your collection later when he woke up, and Heeseung would get embarrassed to the point of tickling you until you were in hysterics and gasping out that you would delete the pictures from your camera roll.

At this point, it was almost like you two were living together. Even though his parents were out of town, you felt slightly anxious about one of the adults in your parents’ circle discovering what you and Heeseung were up to. Not that it was anything scandalous.

But, you had to admit, you were having fun.

On Monday, Heeseung took you to the beach. You complained incessantly about waking up at six in the morning for cold water and sand all over your clothes, but you managed to drag yourself out of bed. Still, Heeseung had to put up with your grumbles and groans until you were energized enough to stop complaining. All it took was Heeseung feeding you a granola bar and making you coffee while you did your hair.

“C’mon,” he told you, the wind sweeping his hair to the side as the first rays of sunlight shone bright against his glowing skin, “this is exactly like the Bahamas if you close your eyes.”

“Uh-huh.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but you spent the entire day at the beach with Heeseung, anyway. You finally warmed up to going into the water with him, letting him take your hands and guide you deeper until the water was up to your waist. At one point, a particularly heavy wave pushed him closer to you until you both were chest-to-chest. You had to hold onto his bicep to keep yourself from floating away. And you swore you caught Heeseung checking you out in your bikini later on, but he turned away with pink-tinged ears immediately after.

Later, when the sun was starting to set and you retreated from the water to curl up in your towel, you sat on your large beach towel and waited for Heeseung to bring over food from the food trucks. The tide was getting higher, so you had to move yours and Heeseung’s belongings further up the sand.

Heeseung returned with two takeout boxes of tacos, taking a seat next to you with a relieved sigh. Since you two hadn’t eaten a proper lunch, you had been waiting for this meal all day. You were properly tuckered out from all the swimming and beach volleyball, so you dug in immediately.

“Good?” Heeseung asked, watching you eat with a small smile on his face. He must have been impressed that you practically inhaled your first taco in under five seconds.

“Good,” you confirmed, voice muffled.

With the back of your hand shielding your eyes, you looked off into the horizon to watch the sunlight ripple across the water’s surface.

And, yeah, maybe it was a little like the Bahamas.

Just a little.

You didn’t expect Heeseung to wake you up on Tuesday morning and drag you to an empty field. Although he told you that he had a surprise for you, you didn’t think it warranted being woken up at 5:30 a.m. without a clue of where you were going.

“Alright, close your eyes, okay? It’s a surprise,” Heeseung said, gesturing for you to cover your gaze. You found it adorable that he was fumbling so much, so you closed your eyes with a grin. “Keep them closed—hold on.”

“Heeseung, how much longer?” you whined.

“And,” he drawled, stretching out the syllable, “open!”

When you opened your eyes, towering over you was a 60-foot tall hot air balloon, its brightly-patterned nylon reflecting the bright sunlight. You boggled at its impressive size—absolutely massive. The pilot got down from the basket, walking over so that he could greet you two and provide a rundown of safety measures and procedures.

An hour later, you were in the sky, eyes sweeping over the expanse of Los Angeles. You were never that great with heights, but, somehow, you weren’t too afraid as you peered down. Heeseung stood beside you, keeping one hand on the small of your back as he pointed out different landmarks he recognized.

“I’ve never seen LA like this!” you yelled over the wind, cupping your hand around your mouth so that Heeseung could hear you.

He grinned. “Isn’t it beautiful? Makes the city actually feel peaceful for once.”

You wouldn’t dare admit it but, all the way up in the sky, thousands of feet above ground level, what made you feel like you were soaring was Heeseung’s arm slipping around your waist.

On Wednesday, Heeseung took you fishing. You absolutely hated the idea, but once you had the fishing rod in your hands, you were determined to catch the biggest fish. Heeseung ended up catching more than you, but the two fish you caught were stars in your eyes. By the end of the day, you were laughing hysterically as Heeseung’s hat got stuck in your hook and was flung into the water.

On Thursday, Heeseung took you to play mini-golf. You had gone golfing before with company executives and their kids, but this was different. You didn’t have to show off or try to be the best one there; you just had fun and laughed whenever your best friend missed the ball. You two ended the day by going to an arcade and playing almost every game inside.

By Friday morning, you were exhausted. Your limbs were aching when you woke up the next morning, but Heeseung promised to actually let you rest over the weekend. Tonight was Yizhuo’s country club’s party to celebrate the opening of their new banquet hall, so Heeseung only planned one thing for the morning so that you would have time to get ready for the party later.

Pushing your red Jacquemus sunglasses onto your head, you fixed your best friend with a puzzled stare. He was acting weird all morning, from nearly snapping at you for trying to open the trunk of his car, to staying silent when you asked where he was taking you.

For a moment, you wondered if this was the climax of a horror movie where the killer drove you to a quiet place to get rid of you. Your suspicion raised more when Heeseung parked by a marina with a hiking trail nearby.

This is where your body’s being dumped, you concluded grimly.

But, then again, this was Lee Heeseung. He cried when he was eleven because there was a spider on his backpack; he didn’t have the heart to hurt anyone, especially not you. In fact, you recalled when he nearly passed out in middle school because he thought he caused you extreme pain once. (It turned out to be your period cramps.)

“Are you gonna tell me where you’re taking me?” you asked, exasperated. “If we’re swimming, I’m gonna tell you right now that there’s no way I’m getting my hair wet before the party.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, princess. We’re just going for a spin on the lake.” He nodded his head in the direction of the yachts lined up by the shoreline. “Jog your memory?”

When your gaze landed on the gorgeous white yacht gleaming under the sun, you couldn’t help but gasp at its glorious sight. Heeseung had gotten the yacht for his birthday last year, but he never had the time to actually use it. One reason was because he didn’t trust his friends to not trash it, and the other being that he wanted his first ride on it to be special.

Your face burned. His first ride was going to be with you.

“Shut up.” You were gaping at the sight before turning to your best friend, who looked smug while he parked his car. “Shut up. You’re actually letting me go on your yacht?”

“Yeah, why not?” He tried to brush it off as something casual, but your heart was still doing cartwheels and flips. “It’s about time I went out on it.”

You two walked down to the harbor together, your hands sometimes shyly brushing and pulling away swiftly. There had been moments of thick, unspoken tension throughout the week, but you didn’t have the courage to bring it up.

Once you two reached Heeseung’s yacht, he firmly slapped his hand against the smooth, brilliant white surface. “Carver c52 Command Bridge,” he gloated. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

You snorted. “You talk about boats the same way old white men do.”

You allowed him to help you into the yacht, gripping his hand tight as you stepped onto the deck. You hadn’t questioned it before, but as soon as Heeseung let go of you, he set down the picnic basket so that he could spread out the blanket.

You helped him with the corners of the blanket. “What’s this?”

“Well, I thought we could sail out a little and then have breakfast on the deck,” he replied coolly, as if the sincerity of his words wouldn’t make your heart twist painfully in your chest. You really didn’t deserve such effort from him, and it almost made you feel guilty that you had acted so spoiled before. “I’ll go start the engine. You can just enjoy the view.”

However, you followed him to the cockpit. Heeseung raised a brow at you, but you giggled as you took a seat behind him, watching as he stood at the helm, fiddling with some controls you knew nothing about.

“You actually know how to operate this thing?” you asked.

“My dad taught me,” he explained. “I’m not licensed, though, so I don’t think this is exactly legal.”

“Not like that’s stopped you before.”

Heeseung grinned to himself. He started up the yacht’s engine by pressing a button on the dashboard. You watched his hands fly across the levers and controls before he started turning the wheel to steer out of the marina.

“You wanna head out to the deck?” he called out over his shoulder, but you just took the empty seat next to him. “Don’t you wanna sunbathe? Or you could check out the stateroom.”

“Nope,” you said, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as you watched him. “I’d rather wait for you.”

Sometimes, you’d almost catch Heeseung getting flustered. He’d always laugh and rub his nose, looking away shyly before anyone caught onto his awkwardness. The same reaction was unfolding before you right now, and you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot yourself.

You wondered if he ever felt butterflies in his stomach, too.

Once Heeseung had driven the yacht out far enough—far out enough in the water where the water was still and no one was there to disturb you two. You both headed out to the deck again. He took a seat to lay out what he packed in his picnic basket, and you removed your sundress so that you could tan a little in your bikini.

“Champagne?” he offered, holding up a bottle of Dom Pérignon that he most definitely stole from his family’s wine cellar.

You pulled out the two wine glasses in the basket and held them out for Heeseung to pour your drinks, smiling wide as he tipped the bottle. “Yes, please.”

“See, you wouldn’t be able to experience this if you were in the Bahamas right now.” He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head. “We didn’t get to hang out like this any of the past summers.”

“As if we don’t hang out almost every day.”

“But this is different!” he argued. “It’s summer. It’s not like we’re making impromptu plans to New York and flying back home a day later to study for an exam. We have all the time in the world right now.”

He was right, in a sense. You and Heeseung were always together, but you two never really got to spend long days together like this. You two got to make plans without involving anyone else in the friend group for once, and it was a lot more fun than you had expected.

“Do you think we’d be this close if we weren’t rich?” you asked after a while. Heeseung raised a brow at your question, so you clarified, “I’m serious! We wouldn’t be able to do stuff like this—flying in hot air balloons, driving yachts, going to country club parties—if we didn’t have rich parents.”

Heeseung crossed his arms behind his head and pondered, looking up at the sky with a wistful expression. He hummed before answering, “I’d like to think that we’d make it work the same way everyone else does.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“What if… you were rich and I wasn’t? Or vice-versa?”

“Yeah, I mean…” he trailed off for a moment, eyes cast down as if he was trying to find the words on his tongue. Then, he continued, “I think I’d be happy doing anything with you, even if all we could do together was sit at home and watch TV.”

Whatever response you had prepared at the back of your throat had died on your tongue. All you could do was look at him helplessly, wondering why his words were making your heart beat faster than when you were thousands of feet up in the sky days ago. You wondered why such gentle words from your best friend had roused a violent storm in your heart.

The wind picked up, sending your hair flying every which way. Heeseung reached out to brush a loose strand of hair away from your face, fingers lingering on your cheek as he pulled back. You went completely still, chest frozen mid-breath as he pulled away.

“You had something in your hair,” he mumbled, quickly scrambling to offer you a caprese skewer. If you looked closely enough, you would’ve noticed that his ears were bright red. “Eat quickly before the food gets stale.”

“I don’t think food normally goes stale that fast.”

“Shut up.”

There was one thing about formal gatherings that all trust fund babies could agree on: only get drunk behind your parents’ backs.

They definitely knew what was going on, but they paid no attention as long as their children were staying safe and not embarrassing themselves. When you were much younger, you would always catch sight of the older kids sneaking away to get drunk in the bathroom, but you never understood the excitement they felt until you became a freshman in high schooler, being dragged away by Yeji to drink with the older kids.

Back then, you were doe-eyed and curious as Vernon would pour shots for you in moderation. Now, you were nearly gagging when Yizhuo handed you a shooter of Pink Whitney.

You two had locked yourselves in the bathroom with Xiaoting, Kazuha, and Minjeong as Yizhuo pulled out various shooters from her purse. It was fine for you to drink wine with the other adults, but you were all certain that the adults would frown upon you drinking hard liquor in front of the other guests. So, the five of you snuck away to get drunk secretly.

For the past fifteen minutes, as you all were downing shooter after shooter, the girls had been pressing you about something going on between you and Heeseung. After he posted you on his Instagram story, showing off his boat in the process, you were bombarded with texts that you were only able to ignore until you got to the party.

A loud knock at the door nearly scared you out of your wits, causing Minjeong to bark out a laugh at the sight of you flinching.

“Occupied!” you yelled, although the syllables slurred together strangely.

“It’s us!” came Jake’s voice. “We’re going drunk golfing.”

You frowned and stepped aside to let Yizhuo open the door for Jake. He scanned his surroundings nervously before shoving his fists into his pockets and stepping into the girls’ bathroom.

“Jake,” Xiaoting started. Although her face and neck were completely red, she focused her eyes on him to keep a serious tone. “We need you to tell us if Heeseung’s into Y/N or not.”

“Xiaoting!” you complained.

“You know what, I’d like to know, too,” Jake replied with shocking enthusiasm. He leaned against the crystal sink, folding his arms across his chest. “Screw drunk golf; this is way more fun. Y/N, do you have feelings for Heeseung? ‘Cause everyone wants to know if—”

“Jake, we didn’t bring you in here for girl talk,” Minjeong cut him off with a wave of her hand. “We brought you in here for answers.”

He let out a childish whine. “But I wanna be here for girl talk.”

“Wait, but answer his question.” Yizhuo turned to you with a wide grin on her face, handing you yet another shooter—probably to make you more honest. You seriously wished you could call Chenle over to put a leash on your friend. “Do you have feelings for Heeseung?”

Did you? You had never been so confused about where you and Heeseung stood until this week. You two had always been close—always did everything together—so why were you feeling conscious about everything now?

But, despite all of your confusion, the one thing that was clear to you was that you felt something for Lee Heeseung with every beat of your heart.

Everything he did, everything he said—you weren’t sure what it was that had you so intoxicated on his attention, but you knew you would’ve felt sick to your stomach if he did the things he did with you with any other girl.

You felt it whenever you saw him lounging around your house, digging into the brownies your mother made as if he lived there. You felt it whenever someone told a joke and the two of you made eye contact with each other first, hoping to see if the other person found it funny, too. You felt it whenever he touched your hand and called you princess, unaware that your heart was fluttering pathetically in your chest.

His smile, his laugh, his happiness—you wanted to be the cause of it all.

You caved with a defeated sigh. “Yeah, I think I might actually have feelings for him.”

A collective cheer erupted in the bathroom, the sound echoing for a few seconds after. Jake stood up just to high-five Yizhuo so hard that the impact left their palms stinging, and then Yizhuo proceeded to scold Jake for putting his full force into the high-five. You pinched the bridge of your nose with embarrassment flooding your chest.

Jake decided to abandon the boys’ plans to go drunk golfing and spent the next ten minutes discussing strategies to get you and Heeseung alone. He had integrated himself into your circle so well that he almost seemed like one of the girls. You slowly backed up into one of the stalls during their conversation, starting to feel horribly nauseous and lightheaded. You were pretty sure that Yizhuo handing you shooter after shooter was starting to have adverse effects on your body.

“How about we tell him that Y/N’s puking in the bathroom and he needs to—” Minjeong cut herself off as soon as she heard you retching by the toilet. “Oh, wow, she’s actually puking in the bathroom.” She turned to Jake after opening the door for him. “Go get Heeseung.”

“If you let me join girl talk next time,” Jake bargained.

“Are you seriously negotiating with me in this situation?”

“Yes.”

Minjeong groaned. “Okay, fine, Jake, we’ll invite you the next time we have girl talk. Now go fetch Heeseung.”

“On it!” he agreed quickly. “Don’t die, Y/N.”

“I’ll try not to” you croaked out weakly, your head hanging between your knees as you willed yourself to not barf out your guts.

“Are you okay?” Kazuha pouted as she rubbed your back in soothing circles. “This is all because you kept making her drink, Yizhuo.”

“I didn’t make her,” she retorted. “Y/N, do you need water or anything? I can ask someone in the kitchen for liquid IV, too.”

You shook your head. “No, just bring Heeseung here.”

They shared a secretive giggle, but you didn’t care. You felt way too sick to mind the girls teasing you. You even tried to distract yourself on your phone, but the bright screen just made you feel worse. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the wall, groaning miserably.

It had really gotten to the point where you didn’t care that you were sitting on the country club’s public bathroom floor. It was all fancy and sanitary, of course, but you would normally feel icky about this sort of scenario playing out.

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but eventually, you heard the door opening and the rest of the girls rushed to make sure it wasn’t someone outside the group. You heard them ushering Heeseung inside, explaining what had happened to you before they left the bathroom.

Heeseung knocked on your stall as a formality but let himself inside, anyway. The crooked grin on his face upon seeing you only made you turn your head away and sigh in exasperation.

You turned your head back to face him when you heard his shutter go off.

A scowl was plastered across your face. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

Heeseung snickered. “Yeah, I’m posting it on my story. Right after the one of you looking all pretty on my boat.”

“You’re supposed to be here to help me.”

“That’s why I brought soda,” he replied, holding up an entire bottle of Sprite. You were confident he snagged it from the kitchen, which you were pretty sure would result in Yizhuo scolding him for treating the country club like his house. “Anyway, why’d you drink so much? Just because I’m driving you home doesn’t mean you’re allowed to give yourself alcohol poisoning.”

You settled back into your previous position with your head between your knees. This way, Heeseung wouldn’t be able to see how stupid in love you were. There was absolutely no way you could tell him that you were mindlessly drinking while you were spilling your feelings for him.

“Where’d the girls go?” you asked instead.

“I told them to go drunk golfing while I took care of you.”

“Don’t you wanna go play, too?”

Heeseung shrugged. He took a seat on the floor next to you, not minding the indecency even though he was sober. You felt like your heart was going to explode if he kept doting on you like this.

“I can always go play another time,” he said. “Plus, I’d have more fun if you were there.”

You both went quiet for a moment. The weight of Heeseung’s words only made your heart feel heavier, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could go pretending that you only cared for him as a friend.

Then, your stomach started churning and twisting with the need to puke out your guts again, and the silence was filled with your retching. Heeseung rubbed your back sympathetically and held your hair back while you hunched over the toilet seat again.

This was definitely going down as one of your most unflattering moments.

“Want some soda?” Heeseung tried.

You shook your head.

“Drink some water, then—here,” he said, handing you a red solo cup that was filled to the brim. “I stole it from Hoon.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your head to accept the cup from him. When you took a sip, though, you just ended up hawking and spitting out the contents into the toilet.

Trying your best not to gag, you got out, “Not water—vodka.”

“Oh, my bad.” Heeseung frowned, inspecting the cup. “Why’d Hoon pour this much? No wonder he drove the golf cart into the lake.”

After throwing up basically everything in your stomach, you started to feel dizzy all over again, stumbling and wobbling all over the bathroom until Heeseung had to hold you upright. He had already gotten Yizhuo’s approval to drive you home for the night, but there was no way you were making it to his Tesla in your heels. Heeseung had you hang tight while he ran to his car to get your Dolce & Gabbana rubber slides, knowing there was no possible way for him to carry you out to the car without the adults getting suspicious.

You felt much more comfortable in your slides, so you walked out hand-in-hand with Heeseung while he held onto your heels. Although you felt bad about leaving Yizhuo’s grand opening party early, you figured that it would be more shameful for her parents to see you in this state.

You had greatly underestimated the power of alcohol.

After you had walked up to about three different cars that weren’t Heeseung’s (including Jay’s Mercedes Benz, which started going off once you pulled on the handle), he had finally grabbed you by the shoulders and manually directed you to his Tesla. You giggled as you got into the passenger’s seat, allowing him to buckle you in and watch over you as he called Jay to turn his car alarm off.

Heeseung shot you a glance as he drove out of the country club’s gated entrance. “You’re going straight to bed when we get home.”

“Don’t wanna.”

He surprisingly gave up fast on trying to convince you. “What do you wanna do, then?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged. “Anything. Wanna bake cookies? Or watch a show?”

“Down for a show. Don’t know if I trust you around kitchen appliances right now,” he answered. After letting out a giggle, you caught Heeseung’s smile illuminated by the moonlight. “See? Aren’t you having more fun than you would’ve had in the Bahamas?”

“I wouldn’t ask this question after I nearly got alcohol poisoning.”

“The important thing is that you didn’t.”

You snorted, but something fond unraveled in your chest. You rolled the window down and looked outside, watching the bright lights of the city twinkle and shine under the inky black sky. You remembered all the skies you watched with Heeseung this week—the hazy gray in the morning, the bright blues of the afternoon, and the faint peony glow at sunset. And, yeah, you would’ve given up the Bahamas any day for this.

“Yeah,” you answered him, though you weren’t quite sure if he could hear you over the wind, “I’m having a lot of fun, Hee.”

Two weeks flew by far too quickly.

You were dumbfounded when you realized your parents were coming back the next day. You had spent two entire weeks solely with Heeseung, and you were having so much fun that you totally lost track of time. You were so caught up in your adventures that it had completely slipped your mind that summer would eventually come to an end.

Heeseung suggested that you two spent your last night doing something special. You had no idea what that meant, but you went along with whatever he had planned.

Apparently, he had been wanting to take you to see the stars, but you didn’t realize that he meant the observatory until you were in his car, parking on the steep slope of a hillside.

“It’s so far,” you complained.

He tutted. “It’s a five minute walk, princess, and it’s worth it. Trust me.”

You hesitated before grouching again, “It’s cold.”

Without another word, Heeseung took off his sweater. You tried to peel your eyes away from his white shirt that kept hiking up as he did. He passed it to you, and you couldn’t do anything but accept it because he was already getting out of the car. You wanted to hand it back to him because you knew he would be cold (made evident by the goosebumps that pricked his arms), but he profusely refused. He seemed perfectly content at the mere sight of you joining him.

He waited as you slipped on his sweater, the biggest grin stretching across his face. You were a little blindsided by how blinding Heeseung’s smile was, especially under the glow of the moon. Your cheeks heated up a little when you smelled faint traces of his Blackberry & Bay cologne in the fabric.

“You’re microscopic in my clothes,” he teased. You started walking a little faster to catch up with your friend, but his comment made you punch his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up.” You waved off the comment, but part of you liked how the sleeves of his sweater fell past your wrists. “We used to be the same height in, like, middle school.”

Heeseung barked out a laugh. “That was so long ago! Look at our height difference now.” Before you could anticipate his actions, he stepped in front of you and compared both of your heights.

You looked up at your best friend, raising a brow at his comment. Of course you were aware. Maybe at one point you denied it, but that was when you both were in elementary school and Heeseung would tug on your hair because he sat behind you.

Being this close to him made you a little nervous. After realizing that you had feelings for him, it was becoming difficult to keep them at bay. It was very clear that Heeseung had become much more masculine over the years with his buffer chest, muscular arms, and deeper voice.

And he looked extremely attractive.

“Yeah, I know you’re tall,” you replied flatly. It was normal for Heeseung to tease you, but whenever he did so in public, you always felt your heart squeeze in your chest. Then, he’d brush it off, and the feeling would fade out like bubbles floating to the ground. “You know, giving me your sweater and messing around like this probably gives people the wrong idea, right?”

“Oh… does it?” Heeseung mumbled, voice an octave higher than usual, and he turned his face away before you could detect the dust of pink across his cheeks. “By the way, have you been to a planetarium before?”

“Nope.”

You had always heard of the large domes that showcased the night sky. People sat underneath as a narrator droned on about stories from the past and the history of the universe. However, you hadn’t ever actually been to one, although you almost would’ve if you hadn’t gotten grounded before a class trip, resulting in all of your friends going to a planetarium show without you. You remembered Yizhuo was texting you throughout the entire trip, complaining about virtually everything that was going on and telling you how much she missed you.

“You’re kidding,” Heeseung’s eyes went round. “No way! You’ve never been to a planetarium?”

“Well—”

“Oh my god,” he continued, absolutely astounded. “Have you even lived?”

“I’ve just never had the chance!” you argued. “It’s not like anyone’s ever asked me to go to one. Plus, if there’s anyone I’d go with, I’d rather just go with you.”

Silence.

You and Heeseung had been settling into a lot of awkward pauses lately. It always followed some odd comment or action between you two, like when he got extremely close to you on the yacht. You still had no idea what exactly his intentions were during that whole ordeal, but your heart had never raced so fast.

Eventually, your silence was broken by an employee ushering you and Heeseung to walk past the velvet ropes and into the observatory building. You both were still silent upon walking in, but when you saw the signs pointing to the planetarium, you nudged your best friend’s side.

“It says the next showing starts in five minutes,” you pointed out.

“Fuck.” He slapped the pockets of his jeans, feeling for something solid in them. “I have my tickets—somewhere. Give me a second.”

Thankfully, he managed to figure out that he saved his tickets to his Apple Wallet. The sign stating that the shows were sold out nearly made your heart drop, but, of course, Heeseung had planned this out well in advance.

As always.

“Where should we sit?” you asked when you walked into the room, looking up at the dome-shaped ceiling in awe.

“Anywhere.” Heeseung grinned at you. “All we have to do is lay back and stare at the sky, so wherever you wanna sit.”

You both settled with two seats in the middle. It was smack dab in the center of the dome, right where the screen curved. Heeseung made a comment about how this was the ideal spot because it felt like you were getting sucked in by the stars.

When the show started, you gazed up at the screen in complete awe. Swirling nebulas and galaxies were painted across the night sky, blinking down at you. The narrator’s soothing voice made you feel absolutely immersed, and you had to grab the arm rest whenever the animation started speeding through the universe.

Heeseung booed when they showed Earth, throwing up a thumbs-down and then quickly shoving his hand back into his pocket, as if the planet would take offense.

And you realized you were in love with him.

You didn’t know why it hit you right then and there—a person droning on about space overhead, glancing over at your best friend to see him gawking at the solar system—but you were certain you would never feel this way with anyone else again. The feeling stampeded through your body, making your blood rush and your bones feel light. You were engulfed in a fire that burned only for Heeseung.

It felt so simple, yet all the more complicated. You were in love with your childhood best friend—the person who had been with you through everything.

It wasn’t like fireworks. Not a splash of ice cold water or like you had been kicked in the chest. It was more like slowly sinking in quicksand, not even realizing how deep you were until you were completely submerged.

You had been in love with Golden Boy for a long time now.

Later, after the show was over, he took you outside to overlook the city. Apparently, it was quite the sight to behold from this high up. You were still gushing on and on about the planetarium show, but as soon as you took a glance over the railing, you forgot all about the wonders of space.

Now, looking over all the bright lights really made it feel like the City of Angels. You were completely captivated by the sight. It was different from how it looked from the hot air balloon; everything was so miniscule from that height, but you could see how far the city stretched from here. The lights blinked past the horizon, and you were certain this was your first time seeing stars down below instead up in the sky.

Heeseung folded his arms onto the railing and tucked his head in them. “You can’t get this view anywhere else.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said, hardly audible.

“Yeah,” he replied. You wondered if he was talking about the stars above or the city below, so you turned your head to catch where he was looking. There was an alarming spike in your heartbeat when you realized he was looking at you, but Heeseung didn’t look away this time. “It really is.”

You never fully appreciated how gorgeous Los Angeles—never really looked past all the traffic and smog and crowd. The bustling city was tiring to keep up with at times. You saw it more as the city of burnouts than the city of stars.

But here, where the stars weren’t in the sky but down below, you realized that the brightest star of them all was the one right next to you.

It was Heeseung.

“You don’t still wish you were in the Bahamas, do you?” he asked suddenly, which spurred you to start laughing.

You stared up at him with incredulity in your eyes. “Hee, I never once wished I was in the Bahamas when I was with you.” You nodded to yourself. “I’d say you made this a successful summer.”

Your heart flipped in your chest when you saw those gleaming eyes and bright smile of his. It almost lit up the sky brighter than the city of Los Angeles itself. The way he was looking at you made you forget everything you were saying.

“Actually,” he started shyly, “there's something else that could make this summer perfect.”

“What’s that?”

“Will you go out with me?”

The question knocked you off orbit, electrifying every nerve in your body like it was cut wire. You weren’t sure what expression you wore on your face, but the shy look on Heeseung’s face was plunging you deeper in that inescapable quicksand. Of course, your friends had suspected this all along, but hearing it yourself was entirely different. You felt like you were glowing brighter than Polaris.

“I’ve liked you since we were kids,” he started to explain after gauging that you still needed time to process his words. “It’s not like I just felt this way overnight. I was just trying to make the right choices so that I could stay by your side for as long as I could. I mean, I’ll always be your best friend, Y/N, but I also wanna be something more than that to you.”

“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” he continued. “I knew that this could possibly ruin our friendship, but I also knew that if I didn’t tell you how I felt, then I would’ve been lying to you through college, too.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “It’s only ever been you.”

Change was hard. You’d been at war with your mind for a while now over starting something new with Heeseung. Although it was unfamiliar and new, and although you were scared of things potentially not working out, you still wanted to try for him.

“You don’t have to worry about ruining our friendship.” The words were on your tongue like a pearl. Your soul leaked out of your body, straight into the Earth, then seeped back into you with newfound bravery. You blinked back tears that dared to spill and sounded so stupidly breathless when you confessed, “I’m in love with you, too, Hee.”

His eyes were as wide as saucers, unblinking. “You are?”

His voice was soft, imploring, almost desperate, so you stepped closer and cupped his cold cheeks with your warm hands. Heeseung’s gaze seemed faraway, but he placed his hands over yours, as if he was trying to make sure you were real.

“I don’t think there’s anyone else out there who would rent an entire hot air balloon just to make sure I wouldn’t miss the Bahamas.” You laughed, a moonstruck grin on your face. “And, for the record, I’d choose you over a stupid vacation any day.”

You had been waiting to see his face break into that dazzling smile of his where his eyes crinkled at the corners. Instead, Heeseung just gazed at you longingly before he placed a hand on your cheek and bent down to kiss you.

His mouth moved with yours carefully, almost like he was too scared to go any further. You moved your hands to loop around his neck, drawing him closer so that you could slowly deepen the kiss. You were grateful that Heeseung waited to match your pace, and soon he was dropping his hands to grab at your waist and pull you closer to him, too. It sent butterflies straight to the pit of your stomach whenever he smiled between kisses, mumbling something about how pretty you were or how he had been waiting to do this forever.

Sometimes, you realized, feelings didn’t need to be expressed through words. You didn’t need the confirmation because with Heeseung’s lips pressed to yours, you felt like you were glowing brighter than the stars above.

You supposed you could say your parents were a little shocked to come back home and discover a major change in your relationship status.

You had to give them the rundown of what happened, of course. It wasn’t very hard to do, considering you had reiterated the same story to Yizhuo about a hundred times until she was satisfied. Thankfully, your other friends just needed to hear it once to fully grasp that Heeseung was now your boyfriend. For Yeji, you had to bring out a whiteboard just to draw everything out to her over FaceTime.

As you broke down what happened while your parents were in Rome, you noticed the silver necklace on your mother’s neck that glimmered whenever the light caught it. You smiled to yourself when you realized it was probably your stepfather’s honeymoon present, and you were grateful that your mother was able to experience such a wonderful love herself.

“See?” There was an excited gleam in your mother’s eyes as she bit into one of the chocolate chip cookies you and Heeseung made for them last night. She pointed the cookie in your stepfather’s direction. “I told you they’d get together!”

“I thought so, too!” he agreed. “That’s why I had that little talk with Heeseung when you two dropped us off at the airport.”

“That’s what you guys were talking about?!” you exclaimed, jumping up to your feet and then sinking back down in your seat with your hands covering your face. “I knew it was gonna be something embarrassing.”

“Oh, honey, don’t say that. Have a cookie.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Heeseung, who had been silent the whole conversation, spoke up. He reached over and took the cookie from your mother, but you smacked his hand lightly while he was bringing it to his mouth. “Hey! You almost made me drop my cookie!”

You huffed. “She was talking to me, idiot.”

You were honestly over-the-moon that dating Heeseung was this easy. You worried about having a boyfriend and having to go through the hassle of introducing him to your parents and waiting for them to warm up to him. With Heeseung, though, he was already like family in your household, so nothing felt too different.

Except that your parents could outwardly tease you both now.

Since you were in his parents’ good graces, too, everything seemed to click for you two. Both of your parents were planning to go out for dinner sometime this week to celebrate your new relationship, which you felt was a little over-the-top. You suspected that Mrs. Lee was hoping you would be her future daughter-in-law.

They were even planning on renting a Airbnb together for yours and Heeseung’s move-in at Yale. It was almost terrifying how everyone in your life seemed to be fully on-board for this relationship.

Not that you were complaining, though.

“Are you guys going somewhere now?” your mother asked, eyeing Heeseung’s white button-up that you were wearing over your swimsuit. “Make sure you wear sunscreen. It’s supposed to be the hottest day of the year.”

You checked your bag to make sure your sunscreen was, in fact, there. Heeseung took his baseball cap off to put it on your head, which made you crack a smile.

“Yeah, we’re going to the beach,” you said. “Yizhuo and Chenle wanted to spend the day at Santa Monica, and then we were gonna head over to Jungwon’s house.”

“Well, have fun.” Your mother moved to the kitchen to grab Tupperware to package the cookies. Your stepfather followed her in to help her out. “I’m sorry we couldn’t go to the Bahamas this year, but the beach has to be the next best thing, right?”

You shared a grin with Heeseung, and his eyes crinkled beautifully at the corners. “Yeah, it’s exactly like the Bahamas if I close my eyes.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you for reading all the way to the end if you made it this far !! :’) i have always wanted to write pure fluff without any room for misunderstandings or angst LOL and heeseung is just the perfect embodiment of bff2l ♡ i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this !! 

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[pennylanewrites]

teacher’s aide (levi ackerman)

warnings: m!masturbation, voyerism, alcohol, smoking, age gap (15 years), me pushing my smitten!levi agenda

levi ackerman was an esteemed and recognised sociology professor. stern, strict and to the point in all of his lectures. most of his classes kept quiet, trying to take notes while he talked fast and went through powerpoint slides like it was the morning paper.

you had been working hard for that teacher’s aide position for two years, when you finally got the acceptance email. it was no secret on campus that professor ackerman’s assistants worked closely to him and got accepted in prestigious firms right after college, with his recommendation of course.

it was also no secret that professor ackerman was incredibly good-looking. his veiny arms and broad shoulders made up for his short height and the way his raven hair fell over his rectangular seeing glasses was so…

“y/n.” his stern voice shook you out of your thoughts. crap. the whole auditorium was staring at you. “the papers.” was all he said before going back to his laptop. you looked down at your hands, realising you were holding the class’s tests for more than you should. you cleared your throat and went through the auditorium, leaving a stack of papers in front of each student. as you walked down, your eye caught his.

levi noticed everything. he noticed how today you were wearing lipgloss instead of your usual lipstick, he noticed the rip in your tights that went down the back of your leg, your new platform loafers and the beads of sweat on your forehead. levi ackerman was not the kind of man that would catch feelings for a student, but you were so…good.

yes, at first he thought you were very attractive, and maybe that’s why he always rejected your aide application. but he also got to know you better every time you replied to one of his questions. you were the only student brave enough to raise their hand, and he appreciated that. sooner than later, you stayed back every day after class to clean up the mess of loose papers and pens, and before he knew it he was smitten.

maybe it was the way you brushed against him to clean the board and shut the projector, a timid apology escaping your lips, or the way you weren’t afraid to challenge him in a theoretical conversation about archaic philosophy during class.

or maybe…shit, how long have i been staring? levi looked away and cleared his throat when he noticed you trying to contain your smile.

class was over and you were going through your usual routine, marking left over questionnaires from the last lecture as he went through tomorrow’s one.

“sir, i’m wondering about…” you rolled your chair across the auditorium’s stage, holding onto his desk to stop the chair, “this one.” you pointed at a question on the paper.

levi was not one to lose his temper, but he was finding it very hard to contain himself when your knee was touching his and your perfume could reach his brain through his nose.

“well, this-this one…” he trailed off, watched you push your hair off your neck, leaving the bare skin on sight for him. god, he could eat you right then and there.

levi had never been more thankful for his phone to ring in his life. the vice dean’s name flashed on the screen, and you leaned back to allow him to get the device.

“i have to go…meeting…come by my office tonight, okay?” he scrambled to get his things and ran off, leaving you in the empty auditorium.

you let your head fall on your pillow, groaning with despair. he hates me. he can’t even talk to me.

you had seen him earlier with petra, his old t.a who graduated last year. he was laughing, for fuck’s sake. he was laughing and buying her coffee in the campus coffee house, and they were sitting over a book and…

“ugh! what is she even doing here?” you threw your pillow on the floor, but it hit you back in the face.

“oh my god, shut up!” your roommate kept hitting you with the pillow, until you grabbed it. “enough, y/n, please.”

“mikasa, do you think they’re dating?” you sat up on the bed, looking at the girl across you. “be honest, i can take it.”

“i think you’re sick. there’s something seriously wrong with you.” she scrunched her nose up in disgust.

“he’s so…”

“old.”

“mature.”

“he’s mature because he’s old.” your roommate kindly reminded you of your age difference. “get over him, please. even if he liked you, he’s your teacher. i doubt he would put his job in danger.”

your eyes lit up, an excited smile covering your earlier gloom.

“you think he likes me?”

“that’s not what i said. where are you going?”

you only grinned before grabbing your bag and barging out of the dorm room. your shoes squeezed against the polished floors as you made your way to the teachers’ wing, and to the third door to your left, your favourite wooden door in the world.

with a sigh, you lifted your fist to knock, but something made you freeze. you looked around to make sure no one was in the corridor, before pushing your ear against the door.

shit, shit, shit, shit

he was moaning. fucking moaning, in his office, when he had specifically told you to visit him. you thought of the possibility of him having a girl in there, even petra, but no one else could be heard. everything right in your head was telling you to turn around and leave, but your hand was on the doorknob, and you were slowly twisting it.

just one look. one look and i’ll-

your eyes grew wide at the sight. a half empty bottle of bourbon sat next to an empty glass, a cigarette was slowly burning on the ashtray, the first two buttons of his white shirt were undone. god, you could clearly see his nipples through the fabric. the desk obscured your vision, but you could see his hand moving up and down, up and down, up-

“fu-fuuuck.” his voice strained, his head fell back and you were wet a creep.

you turned around and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. looking at your reflection on your phone, you made sure pervert wasn’t written across your forehead, and turned back around.

two soft knocks on the door. levi fixed his hair quickly, buttoned his shirt and put the cigarette out.

“come in.” you entered the room and he looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“long day?” you pointed at the bottle, smiling softly. he chuckled and motioned for you to sit down. “i can come back some other…” you trailed off when he took another glass out, filling it halfway and pushing it towards you.

you fidgeted with a ring on your finger, unsure of what to do.

“i shouldn’t…”

“i won’t tell if you won’t.” he filled his own glass and raised it to you, before taking a sip. you smiled softly, taking a sip of the drink. it burned coming down, just like his gray stare on you did.

“i have the tests marked. that question i was wondering about earlier,” you took the stack of papers out of your bag, leaving them in front of the man.

“yeah, i looked it up. it’s actually-”

“i figured it out.” you cut him off. he raised an eyebrow and put his glasses on, looking down at the marked paper, and the right answer which you had wrote down in red ink.

“you did.” he agreed and looked at you through strands of his raven hair. “good girl.”

you froze. you could feel your whole face turning an ugly shade of red. a million disgusting thoughts ran through your head as he walked around the desk to sit on the chair across from yours. his muscles flexed as he reached over the desk to get the ashtray and his drink. you took a big sip of the drink, trying to convince yourself the sexual tension was just in your head.

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

“what?” he shook you out of your thoughts. he knew you were staring at him.

“nothing. i’ve never seen you like this.” you admitted, still sipping your drink.

“like what?”

like you don’t have a stick up your ass.

“relaxed.” you opted for the nice comment.

“i’m far from relaxed, trust me.” you watched as he placed a cigarette between his wet lips, lighting it with a white lighter.

“those are bad luck.” you took the lighter in your hand, fidgeting with it.

“huh. maybe that’s why my life’s shit.” he chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette.

“come on…” your eyes fell on a book on his desk.

masculine domination, pierre bourdieu. you grinned, taking it in your hands to inspect the front page.

“take it. it’s for my doctorate students, but i think you-”

“i’ve read it.” you closed it and put it back on the pile.

“of course you have. you’re a smart girl, you know?”

he was praising you. and he was filling your glass again. when did you even finish the first?

“are you trying to get me drunk, sir?”

“i think you’re capable of controlling yourself.”

“don’t be so sure.” you mumbled, staring at your feet.

“what was that?”

“nothing!” you shook it off with a smile, but he had heard you just fine.

god, you wanted him so bad. as the hours went by, and the bottle came to its’ end, you became more and more impatient. you were scared of what you would do honestly, if one more drop of alcohol entered your system. but, were you crazy to think he wanted this too? why would he pour you a drink, and ask you all these questions, and make you laugh with stupid jokes if he-

“what are you thinking about?” he shook you out of your thoughts. you showed him the clock on the wall.

“that i should get going. some teacher thought it would be a good idea to have an 8 am class.” you grinned. you reached your hand out to return him his lighter, but you dropped it instead.

“that’s one lousy teacher.” he chuckled, kneeling on the floor to get the lighter. you waited for him to get up, so you could too, but he wouldn’t move. still kneeling, he came closer to you, his hands hesitantly moving to rest on the sides of your thighs.

internally, you were screaming. but not a single breath came out of your mouth as you watched him. he sighed and finally locked eyes with you.

“i’m not crazy, am i?”

“wh-what?” your voice came out as a whisper. pathetic.

“to think there’s something, right? here. there’s something here and i-”

“sir-”

“don’t.” he squeezed your thighs and you swore your heart would jump out your chest sooner or later. he straightened his back and got up, pulling you with him. “don’t call me sir.”

you let him seat you on top of his desk, you let him spread your legs and stand between them. he pushed your hair behind your ear and inched closer. his breath against your neck made you shiver, and a soft kiss forced a small gasp out of your mouth.

your hands trembled as you placed them around his neck, and his breath staggered when you played with the strands of hair that fell on his undercut.

“please kiss me.” he swore his knees would give when he heard your voice, so soft, so sweet. you were as needy for him as he was for you.

his strong hands met your face, his silver ring cooled your burning cheek. you closed your eyes, and his lips finally met yours. it was careful at first, both of you scared the other would change their mind. but all it took was you pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, and he lost his mind. his hands slipped down to your waist and you arched your back to get closer to him, if that was even possible. your mouth trailed to his jaw, leaving sloppy kisses all the way down his neck. a playful bite made him gasp. you chuckled.

“stop. you’ll drive me crazy.” he squeezed your hip.

“good.” you grinned and leaned in to kiss him again, but his hand in your hair held you back.

“you have to go…” he managed between soft kisses down your chest, at least as far as your shirt allowed, “or i won’t be able to stop.” he held your hands, and kissed them both, maintaining eye contact with you.

“then don’t stop.” you whined, but your grin turned into a frown when he pulled you off the desk and fixed your skirt. “levi-”

“save something for later, right?”

his promise of a later was enough. you left him to clean up and walked out the door with a sheepish smile and a whispered goodnight.

your phone buzzed on your way back to the dorms, and you stopped in your tracks when you saw the name on the screen.

professor ackerman: wear that green dress tomorrow.

you raised an eyebrow.

just the dress.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 7- For The First Time

Summary: Eight days ago, you kissed Frankie Morales for the first time. Eight days later, you want to do more than just kiss him.

Word count: 8.6K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) protected p in v sex, loss of virginity/first sexual experience for Frankie and Reader (some brief mentions of momentary discomfort bc of it) oral (f receiving- building the lore for Pussy Eating King Francisco Morales brick by brick), vaginal fingering, Frankie's got a big dick (it's also part of the lore, don't @ me) sweet and awkward teenage love, Frankie being everything and more, lots and lots and lots of consent, a four letter word that starts with an L, please don't yell at me, they're both 18 at this point in the story!!!

A/N: Soooooo all of a sudden I blinked a this was 8K plus words WHOOPS 🤠 I ain't gonna lie with y'all, this may be one of my favorite things I've ever written and have cried the whole way through it 😭 My plan was to have Frankie picking up MacKenzie from work in this chapter too, but obviously things got away from me very quickly, so that will be next chapter's problem!! Your kind words about this story mean so much to me, I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I've enjoyed writing it!!! 🥺💕

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Summer of 2007, Age 18 

123 days. 

That night Frankie told you he had made up his mind to join the Army after he finished with high school, you counted out every square on your calendar from April 15th to August 16th. You had 123 days left together before you left for college and Frankie left for boot camp. 

But April 15th was 2 months ago. 67 days ago, to be exact. Each day you crossed off your calendar filled you with a little more dread than the last. You tried not to think about the dwindling number, or the impending doom of August hanging behind July and June on the wall above your desk, but it was hard to not let the thought constantly nag in the back of your mind that the carefree summer days of spending practically every waking minute with Frankie were coming to an end. 

The only thing that seemed to put you at ease was just that- after the hurt and sadness of Frankie’s departure had subsided enough, you had promised each other that the last bit of time you had together, you’d do everything in your power to make the most of it. 

If there was anything you knew the other was good for, it was keeping a promise. 

There was no denying that the past 67 days spent with Frankie had been nothing short of magical. It seemed like for once in your life, everything was falling into place exactly how you wanted it to. 

Your soccer team had won the state championship, Frankie being the first to rush onto the field to congratulate you on your victory after cheering for you at the top of his lungs the whole game. The stress of school seemed to become irrelevant, your teachers easing up as you came to the close of your Senior year, you and Frankie’s after school hangouts now focused less on homework and more on goofing around. Graduation had come and gone, you and Frankie both walking across the stage of your high school gym, diplomas in hand, teasing the other relentlessly about how awful the other looked in the stupid, tasseled caps they had forced you to wear. 

Then, there was prom.

It had been no question that you and Frankie were going to prom together- it was an unspoken, standing agreement that the both of you had since the start of your senior year. For as much as homecomings or school dances had never been your (or Frankie’s) preferred way to spend a Saturday night, there was an undeniable excitement you had about it you couldn’t really quite describe. You kept chalking it up to the fact it was the biggest night of your senior year, or that all your best friends were gathering together to have an incredible party filled with dancing and fun. 

But neither of those things could account for the butterflies in your stomach when Frankie showed up at your front door, tuxedo on and flowers in hand, watching his jaw drop and heart stop when he laid eyes on you. 

“You look beautiful, MacKenzie.” 

From that moment on, those 4 words hadn’t stopped ringing in your ears. 

They rang in your ears as he held your hand the entire night, refusing to unlock his fingers from yours. 

They rang in your ears as you felt him grab your waist while you danced. 

They rang in your ears as he lovinging teased you about your drunken hiccups off sips of stolen beer cans in Santi’s basement where the party had traveled to long after prom had finished. 

They rang in your ears in the middle of your moonlit street as Frankie walked you home, making it no less than ten steps past Santi’s porch before he froze, staring at you like a trembling deer in headlights.

“What’s wrong, weirdo?” 

“There’s something I wanna do. I’m terrified you’ll hate me forever if I do it, but I’ve wanted to for so long and I don’t think I can wait anymore.” 

“Frankie, what are you-” 

“Can I kiss you, MacKenzie? Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.” 

“F-Frankie, I-” 

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget that I-” 

“I was scared you would never ask.” 

It wasn’t until then you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss Frankie Morales. 

Now, you’re absolutely sure that you never want to stop kissing him. 

There’s something about the warmed, welcomed June air that makes you want to throw every caution you’ve ever had to the wind, finally understanding what all of those books and movies had meant about falling victim to a summer fling.

Ever since that night at prom, Frankie Morales was the only thing in the world that mattered. It had only been eight days since his lips had met yours under the midnight moon, but every day since, neither of you had passed up a chance to sneak away for stolen kisses and bodies tangled in messy dances of limbs, finding any excuse to spend a moment alone together. 

Maybe your pink cheeks and goofy grins were enough to let the world know how hard you had fallen for your best friend- even if they weren’t, you wouldn’t care. Right now, consequences don't exist. 

Right now, the only thing that does is you, Frankie, and a four letter word that lingers in the back of your mind. 

They especially don’t exist when you’re wide awake at one in the morning for the third night in a row, unable to sleep as butterflies rumble in your stomach and fly up to your chest after another day spent with the boy four doors down. 

You toss and turn under your sheets, unable to stand staring hopelessly at your ceiling another minute. You reach across your bed, plucking your phone off your nightstand, finding Frankie’s name in your messages. 

You: 

Hey, are you still up? I can’t sleep 

It’s barely ten seconds before his contact is lighting up your screen, making your heartbeat just a little faster.

Frankie :) <3

Im up 2. I cant sleep either 

Cant stop thinking about u 

You: 

Me either, even though we literally spent all day together haha 

You smile at your screen as you wait for Frankie’s response, fingers anxiously tapping on your keyboard until your phone lights up again. 

Frankie :) <3

Do u wanna come over? 

I wanna see u 

Your face scrunches in confusion, sitting up in your bed to peer out your window, like Frankie would be able to see your puzzled expression from down the street as you type back. 

You: 

I mean, yeah, but it’s 1 AM Frankie??? What about your mom? 

Frankie :) <3 

Shes working overnight at the hospital 

She wont be back until like 9 tomorrow 

Its just me 

You’re unsure of how to describe the feeling that’s beginning to brew in your stomach as you read his last three texts. A strange mix of excitement and anticipation washes through you at the idea of letting yourself indulge in the teenage rebellion of sneaking out of your house in the middle of the night. An even stranger mix of nerves and something else you can’t quite explain floods your veins at the idea of sneaking out of your house to find Frankie, alone in his bedroom. 

The feeling you quite can’t explain churns faster in your gut and travels down your lower half when you realize if you’re alone with Frankie in his bedroom, you want to do more than just kiss him. 

You: 

Are you sure?? 

Frankie :) <3

Promise 

I really wanna see u Kenz 

At this point, the strange feeling that’s seeped through every inch of your body must have made it to your brain, because you’re convinced it’s the reason you don’t know how to breathe anymore. 

You: 

Okay 

I’ll be over in 10 :) 

Frankie :) <3 

Ok :) 

Come in thru the back door  

Txt me when ur there and ill let u in 

You’ve never been up and out of your bed so quickly, fumbling with your comforter and pillows just enough to resemble something close to a body under your sheets if god forbid either one of your parents wakes up and decides to check on you for the first time since you were a toddler. 

Your breath trembles, inhaling and exhaling in long and deep rises of your chest, carefully tiptoeing across your bedroom floor. You’d give anything to be in something cuter than your pajamas, but opening your closet seems like too risky of a move in your plot to escape. 

You grab Frankie’s sweatshirt hanging over your desk chair, quietly shuffling it over your head before attempting to use the moonlight spilling in through your window as enough illumination to comb your fingers through your messy hair and wrangle it into a quick braid. It’s hard to tell from the half lit reflection staring back at you in the mirror, but you pray the once over you give yourself is enough to keep you from looking like a complete mess when you show up at Frankie’s door. 

The adrenaline of it all seems to kick your nerves to the curb as you stuff your phone in Frankie’s sweatshirt pocket before your fingers gently wrap around the curve of your doorknob. As soon as you open the door, you’re well aware of the ramifications that could await you on the other side. 

You’re also well aware that consequences are temporary, and no amount of fear of future punishment is keeping you from making it to Frankie’s bedroom tonight. 

It’s a James Bond worthy performance, the way you sneak down your staircase, avoiding every crack and creak with expertise, stealthily sliding past your parents bedroom and across the family room until you’ve crept through your kitchen to find your back patio.

You flinch with every squeal of the sliding glass door as you nudge it open, just enough to squeeze your body through. You grimace your face in fear as you pause, back to the bricks of your house, waiting for someone to catch you in the act. 

A few moments pass and the silence of your home stays stagnant, giving you the all clear to bolt across your backyard, dashing through your neighbors lawns until you find yourself at Frankie’s, hands shaking as your fingers punch at your keyboard. 

You: 

I’m here! Let me in!  

As your thumb presses send, your adrenaline has waived just enough to let the anxious tension take hold of your body, palms sweating and heart racing so fast it just may beat out of your chest. Your teeth gnaw at your fingernails, waiting for his response to text you that he’ll be right there, or he’s about to let you in, but this is Frankie- It should be no surprise when he opens the back door immediately. There’s not a chance in hell he hasn’t been waiting for you down here since the moment you texted him you were coming. 

“Hi.” You whisper, biting down your lip to contain the smile that’s spread across your face as he’s opened the door. 

“Hi.” He whispers back, tongue darting between his lips as his eyes wander up and down your frame before locking with yours. 

His palm grazes your cheek, cradling your jaw as he steps into you, chest to chest while your lips lock in a gentle, electric kiss, the kind that makes you want the taste of him to linger on your tongue forever. 

“You wanna go up to my room?” He asks, the hot breath of his words dancing across your skin as his mouth still hovers over yours. 

Before, you would have quipped him with some sort of witty, sarcastic response, teasing him that you’d rather stay out in the pitch black and get eaten by mosquitos until he dragged you inside, eyes rolling at your sass. Now, the best you can manage are shaky breaths while you nod your head in agreement, praying your brain will let you form some sort of coherent thought before you speak. 

Frankie grabs your hand as he pulls you into his house, taking the familiar path through his kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom, the pounding in both your chests filling the silence for the words you seem to lack. 

He doesn’t even bother closing the door behind him as you make it to his room, your bodies tangling and intertwining in a frantic dance, stumbling across the floor until the backs of Frankie’s knees collide with the bed, the two of you toppling over in soft giggles onto the mattress. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” Frankie sighs, one arm wrapped around your hip and the other resting on your face as he leans back in for another kiss, your smiles pressed against each other. 

“It’s only been like, three hours since I saw you last, dummy,” You quietly snicker, letting your hands wander up his chest, “You really missed me that much?” 

“Yeah, really.” He replies in between kisses, fingers digging just a little bit deeper into your side, “I can’t stop thinking about you, Kenzie. You’re all I think about. You’re all I ever wanna think about.” 

You try to swallow the lump that’s lingering in your throat, but with each second that passes, it seems to grow, trapping the words your brain is fighting to get out. The simple bliss you’ve found in pressing your mouth to Frankie’s has become overshadowed by the looming tension spreading through you as you imagine the soft plush of his lips across your skin, or the way you want his hands to creep down the waistband of your shorts and ease the ache that’s been building between your legs. 

Your body freezes at the realization that you want to tell him that you can’t stop thinking about him either, that you can’t stop thinking about the fact you want more than just his lips pressed against yours, how you want him to be the first one you feel inside you, that he’s the only one you ever want. 

That there’s nothing more than you want to be his. 

It doesn’t take long for Frankie to realize he’s making out with a half open mouth, pulling away with concern as he studies the pained expression across your face. 

“Kenz, a-are, are you okay? D-did I do something wrong?” Frankie stammers, gulping as he shifts himself to follow your lead and sit up on the bed. 

“N-no, no, it’s just that- fuck- I just- fuck, I don’t know how to say this.” You stutter, face growing hotter and hotter as you furrow your brow, eyes peeled to Frankie’s blue and green plaid sheets as you try to find the words you want so desperately for him to hear.

Frankie reaches out his hand, gently resting it on the bare skin of your thigh, just below the hem of your pajama shorts. You glance down at the way his fingers carefully rub back and forth, trying to calm your nerves enough to look at him. 

“It’s okay, Kenzie. Whatever it is, I’m- I’m here to listen.” He responds, trying his best to be the anchor in your storm, despite his own nearly shot nerves. 

“I- I- I really like you, Frankie.” 

“I really like you too, Kenz.” He smiles softly, just enough teasing inflection in his tone to get you to giggle, just a little. 

“I just- I- um, do you- Frankie, do you- do you ever think about doing more than just kissing me?” 

A stark silence fills the room, quiet enough that each breath through your nose and thump in your chest amplifies and echoes in the space between you. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek watching Frankie’s face go blank, eyes widening with every second he lets your question process. His Adam’s Apple bobs in sync with the trembling exhale he takes before he looks back at you, praying that your word vomit hasn’t led to a detrimental mistake. 

“Do um, holy shit- you mean like, l-like what? Like, like, h-having sex? W-w-with you?” 

He’s panting like he’s just finished a marathon, his eyes darting wildly between you and his sheets, terrified to answer your question with anything else but his own question to make sure he’s really just heard what you said. 

The tops of your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you nod your head just enough, the subtle shake just enough to let him confirm his suspicions that you’re asking as a way of letting him  know how often it’s crossed your mind. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I think about it.” He stammers, feeling his fingers tremble against your skin, hand still resting on your thigh, “D-do- do you? Um, think about it?” 

“Yeah.” You whisper, voice shaking as you reach down to lay your hand over his, letting your fingers slide between the gaps between his knuckles until they intertwine, gripping each other tightly, there was no chance the other could float away. 

The silence shifts to a different type of tension, a thickness in the air so palpable, it makes it just as hard to move as it does to breathe. The two of you stare at the interlocked hand resting on your thigh, stuck in a game of chicken of who dares to make the first move into the uncharted territory you’ve entered. 

“I- I’ve never-” 

“Me either.” Frankie interjects, cutting off the end of your statement.

It’s almost humorous to admit it out loud, like the both of you didn’t already share every detail of your lives with one another, and had somehow managed to let this fact fall between the cracks.

The two of you let out quiet laughs to yourselves, finding comfort in the comradery to work up enough courage to let your gazes meet again, wondering if Frankie can see the same yearning in your eyes as you see reflected in the soft brown his. 

“MacKenzie, I- I-” he mutters, scrunching his face with his swallow, trying to compose himself, “I only wanna do what you wanna do. I don’t- um, I don’t want you to think that if- if you don’t want to, o-or whatever, that I would be mad. I promise I would never, ever be mad at you because of that. Y-you know that, right?” 

“I know.” 

There’s not a part of you that doubts it. Not for a second. You know that there’s no one else on the face of this earth you trust more than him. 

There could be no one else but him. 

“You know I would never be mad at you either, right?” You ask, relieved as you watch Frankie gently nod his head. 

You’re not sure if it’s instinct or the weight of the tension that makes you lean into him, foreheads pressing together so that the messy curls of his sleepy hair are tickling your skin. You can hear how hard his heart is beating, waiting on your every breath as he leans back into you. 

“I want to. I want you, Frankie.” 

“F-fuck- Are you sure?” He asks, his free hand creeping across the sheets, carefully sliding up your thigh and under his sweatshirt you’re wearing, letting his fingers toy at the softness of your stomach and the waistband of your shorts. 

“I’m sure.” You whisper back, your own hand traveling up his leg and towards the tented fabric of his pajama bottoms. 

“I-if it’s too much, t-tell me to stop, okay? I promise I’ll take care of you, MacKenzie.” 

“I know you will. I trust you, Frankie.” 

“O-okay.” 

“Okay.” 

It’s then your mouths crash together in a messy dance of tounges and teeth, an instant electricity igniting in your core with anticipation and want. It’s frantic yet sensual, the way there’s nothing more you want than him, but can’t bear to miss a moment to take it all in, savoring every second you melt into him.

As your hands wander across each other’s bodies, Frankie shifts you to lay on your back so he can cage his frame over yours, the ends of his fingers barely daring to roam any farther than just below your hips or too far above your stomach. 

“C-can I take off your shirt?” He asks, already breathless at just the sight of you underneath him. 

“Technically your shirt, Morales.” You smirk, making his cheeks turn even more pink at the way you giggle when you say his name. 

“It’s yours now, looks way better on you than it does on me. Drives me fucking crazy seeing you in my clothes, Kenz.” He grins, carefully tugging your sweatshirt and the shirt underneath it above your head as you lift up your arms, helping him wriggle it free. 

As you pop out from under the fabric, the first thing you notice is the way Frankie’s jaw is hanging open, eyes wide as can be as they stay glued to your bare chest. 

“Holy shit.”  Frankie whispers to himself, tongue darting between his lips, staring at the way your nipples have hardened from being exposed and aroused. “Um, w-wow.” 

Seeing you topless sparks something in him to do the same, reaching over his shoulder to tug his t-shirt off his back and over his head, leaving nowhere for the heave of each heavy rise and fall of your chests to hide. 

Slowly, Frankie lets his hands slide up your stomach until he’s palming your breasts, grouping each one in his hands, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against your sensitive buds. 

He leans down to kiss you, starting at your lips before trailing down your neck and collarbone, until he reaches your chest, carefully kissing each handful he has in his grasp. 

You’ve never felt your core ache the way it does now, throbbing with want and need for more, just from the way Frankie’s groping you. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling- you’ve touched yourself before with this exact scenario playing in your mind, but never has it made you feel like this. 

“Y-you can take off my shorts, i-if you want.” 

“O-kay.” 

The gentleness of Frankie’s gaze makes your heart skip a beat, the chocolate brown of his eyes locked on yours as he scoots himself down the bed until he finds himself settled between your legs, now parted open for him. 

It’s then you’re overtly aware that Frankie is about to see you completely naked, a new wave of anxiety crashing through you as heat rises in your cheeks and makes you fidget the fabric of his sheets between your fingers. 

“I- I- I’m not wearing cute underwear. S-sorry.” You stammer, wincing as Frankie’s thumbs begin to dip below your waistband. 

“Seriously, Kenz?” He chuckles, pausing in his tracks to shake his head in disbelief, “Do you really think I care what underwear you have on right now?” 

“Well, n-no, but-” 

“You really think I’m about to turn down having sex with you because you’re not in the right underwear? That you won’t even have on in like, three seconds?” Frankie snickers, trying to help ease your clearly visible nerves. 

“Shut up.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you playfully swat at him, forgetting about the fact you were topless and immediately clamming up again as you felt your breasts sway against your chest. “S-sorry, I- I’m just kinda nervous.” 

“Why are you nervous?” Frankie questions gently, wrapping his hand around your calf, thumb softly circling your skin. 

“Well you’re about to see me naked for the first time, Frankie. I think that’s a pretty fair reason to be nervous.” You force the stifled laugh stuck in your throat, attempting to uphold any confidence you have left in your facade. 

“You’re about to see me naked too, Kenz. Would it make you feel better if you saw me pantless first?” 

He says it like he’s teasing, but you know there’s a part of him that’s serious- that he’d do anything to make you feel better, even something as simple as being the first to forgo any clothes on his bottom half. 

“No, I know, Frankie, it’s just-” 

“Do you know how beautiful I think you are?” 

It catches you off guard, how quick he is to stifle your protest, the warmth of his words flushing your cheeks, now shifting to fit the delicate grin that’s growing between them. 

“You’re so beautiful, MacKenzie. Everything about you, I swear.” 

He must feel the butterflies churning in your stomach, his hands sliding down your thighs to grab your sides, leaning over to press soft kisses just above your waistband. He stares up at you once more, giving each other subtle nods of reassurance as his fingers play with the elastic, carefully helping you to lift your hips just enough to shuffle your bottoms down your legs until they’re a crumpled pile on the floor. 

It eases the tension that’s built throughout your body as you watch in real time how Frankie’s brain short circuits, mesmerized by the view that’s revealed itself between your legs. You timidly squirm your lower half against the sheets, just enough to feel the sticky warmth of your arousal that’s been pooling since the minute you stepped foot in Frankie’s bedroom. 

“H-holy- holy fuck. O-oh my god.” Frankie murmurs to himself, eyes locked on the puffy, wet mess of your pussy, “MacKenzie, I- wow. C-can, um, can I touch you?” 

“Mmhmm. Y-you can touch me, Frankie. F-fuck, I want you to. Please.” You whisper, letting your legs part for him more, clit pulsing with anticipation to feel Frankie’s fingers. 

“I-if it doesn’t feel good o-or, you know, you want me to stop, just tell me, okay?” 

“Okay, Frankie.” 

You didn’t even know it was possible to feel this wound up, every throb of your core pulsing through your body with so much intensity you’re convinced you may explode if Frankie doesn’t touch you this second. 

The pads his fingers gently slide over your swollen lips, collecting the slick that clings to them before he brings them to your clit, his precise and delicate touch still making you gasp the moment he starts to circle around your sensitive nub. He swirls his fingers with the lightest touch like you’re made of glass, scared he’ll break you if he dares to push too hard. 

“You can, fuck- you can press more if you want.” 

“Okay. I just- I didn’t wanna hurt you, or anything.” 

The corner of your lips curl with a soft smile, the stiffness in your muscles relaxing with how warm and safe he makes you feel. 

“I-in the same place, though? Same circles, just like, more pressure?” He asks, quietly calculating his next move as you shake your head in response. 

Frankie begins to circle again, slowly increasing the weight of his fingers against your clit, brushing against it in just the right way to make you whimper in delight. 

“Oh my god-” You sigh, breath hitching in the back of your throat. 

“Good oh my god, or bad oh my god?” Frankie questions, terrified he’s done something to upset you. 

“No- no, good oh my god. K-keep doing that.” You stammer, pulse quickening as a familiar tingle of pleasure begins to build in your stomach. 

Your reassurance gives Frankie the boost of confidence he needs, drawing tight circles around your nub with the pads of his fingers for a few moments, until his thumb takes over, leaving his middle two fingers free, ghosting over your entrance. 

There’s a louder moan as Frankie barely slips his middle finger inside of you, lightly prodding in and out of your hole, welcoming the new fullness in the warmth and wet of your walls. 

He pumps a few more times, letting his finger sink deeper with each stroke until he’s knuckle deep, reaching further than any spot you’ve been able to feel yourself. It’s when a second digit joins his first that you feel nearly breathless, the stretch and sting making you wince for a moment as you adjust, realising how much thicker and stronger his fingers are than your own when you touch yourself. 

Frankie immediately notices your tense expression, quickly pulling back, raising his hands like he’s been caught in the act, guilt ridden look painted across his face. 

“Fuck, Kenzie, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s okay, Frankie! It feels good, I promise, your fingers are just a lot bigger than mine.” 

He tilts his head in confusion for a second until the lightbulb clicks with him that he’s not the only one in the room who's ever been horny and taken care of themself to help solve their problem. 

“Wh-what do you think about? Wh-when, when you touch yourself?” He asks with a quiet caution. 

“I- I think about you, Frankie.”

You answer without hesitation. Not to appease him, not to convince yourself, but because it’s the truth. You’ve thought about him more times than you can count. 

Your answer ignites another spark of self-assurance in him, carefully letting his thumb swirl against your clit as his middle finger gently slides back into your entrance, working up to the same tempo he was at a few moments ago. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” He confesses, a willing admittance now that you’re laying your cards out on the table for him. 

“Well, there was one time, a long time ago, I thought about Orlando Bloom after I watched Pirates of the Caribbean.” 

You’re not sure what spurs on your unnecessary addition to your comment, but it makes you and Frankie both snort, needing a moment to compose yourself from your fit of giggles. 

“Are you trying to tell me you’re really into pirates?” Frankie laughs, biting down on his lip. 

“No, you dork! That’s not- Jesus, you know what, forget I ever said anything, okay?” You sigh, rolling your eyes at Frankie, trying to will away the reds and pinks that plague your cheeks. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Kenz, don’t worry.” He teases, his smile slowly shifting to a stoic sort of concentration as he stares down at his fingers pressed against your pussy. “I- I wanna try something.” 

“What?” 

“Can I um, can I go down on you?” 

“Wait, really?” 

Despite your own inexperience, you weren’t naive enough to ignore the rumblings from friends of friends, or stories of girls on your soccer team, constantly complaining about how all their boyfriends wanted them to suck their dicks with nothing in return. They’d claim it was gross, or weird, or that it would taste disgusting, so you’d be hard pressed to not believe that every boy under the sun mostly likely found themselves in the same school of thought. 

“Do you not want me to?” Frankie questions, trying to hide the small pang of disappointment you’re sure he feels in his chest at your puzzled reaction. 

“N-no, it’s just that- I didn’t think that- I thought guys thought that was gross.” 

“What? Who said that?” Frankie scoffs. 

“I don’t know, like, Sarah and Morgan from the soccer team always complained about how their boyfriends never wanted to because they said it was gross or whatever.” 

“Well Sarah and Morgan’s boyfriends have a single brain cell left between them after all the hits they’ve taken during football this season.” 

The two of you laugh again, finding relief in the way your friendship prevails through the discomfort. 

“You really don’t think it’s gross?” 

“No. I- I think it’s kinda hot.” 

It’s now Frankie’s cheeks that are flushed with crimson, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. You can tell he has more he wants to say from the way his eyes dart between yours and the bed, forcing you to tilt your head with that little nod he knows means that you’ll keep pestering him until he breaks. Lucky for you, it won’t take much. 

“Santi stole this DVD from his cousin's house, and honestly most of it was so stupid because obviously it's all fake. Like, no one’s that excited to get fucked at a doctor’s office. But anyways, there was this one part at the beginning where uh- where the guy goes down on the girl and I- um, I don’t know. I- I wanted to try it, I guess.” 

“Really didn’t think I was gonna have to worry about not picturing Santi in my head tonight.” 

You and Frankie giggle as you pretend to gag at the thought of Santi becoming a part of you losing your virginity, praying there never comes a day he finds out he’s in part to thank for Frankie’s peaked curiosity. 

“I- I want you to. If you want to.” 

“I want to. Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad.” 

The pace of your pulse begins to quicken again, watching the way Frankie’s face lights up as he races to position himself between your legs, laying flat against the mattress with his face hovering above your heat, his hot, trembling breath tickling your folds. 

You swear he licks his lips before his mouth meets you, but the slow, long drag of his tongue across your clit already has your head thrown back against his pillow, the warmth and wetness lighting you up from the inside out with jolts of electric pleasure. 

He repeats it a few more times, languidly lapping in smooth and steady strokes, each with just a little more pressure than the last. It’s instinctual, how you buck your hips towards his face, like your body knows it wants more before your brain can process it, signaling to Frankie you’ve given him the okay to keep going, to give you more. 

Little gasps escape your parted lips as his tongue moves faster, circling your clit the same way he had with his thumb, making your body melt into the mattress. It’s almost unearthly, how good it feels, little fires igniting in your stomach with every flick of his tongue. 

You don’t mean to startle him with how loudly you whimper as he intensifies the pressure, mouth still latched around your clit while his brown eyes peek up at you, breathlessly nodding to him that he shouldn’t dare to stop now. 

He takes it as a sign to test the waters even further, letting his middle finger be sucked into the warmth of your velvety walls before ever so carefully sliding in another. The stretch is still there but the sting has faded, his fingers a welcomed addition to ease the way you realize you’ve been clenching around nothing, subconsciously desperate to fill the empty ache in your core. 

Inch by inch, he sinks them deeper until you feel him bump against a soft spot inside you that makes you scream in a way you’ve never felt before, fireworks exploding everywhere in your body as his tongue and fingers work in tandem. 

A familiar tingle rapidly begins to build at the base of your spine, except the same type of tingle you’ve experienced alone has never multiplied and compounded in the same way this one does. 

Desperate for something to grab on to, one hand fists at Frankie’s sheets, the other, shooting down to the messy curls of his hair, burying your fingers until they disappear under his unkempt locks. 

You’re not sure if you’re so pleasure drunk you can’t think straight, but you swear you can feel that stupid, smug smirk pressed against your pussy as you hold onto him for dear life. 

He keeps the same pace with his tongue, fingers prodding in just the right spot to make you feel like you’re losing control, limbs numb and shaking like jello as you feel the tingle creep down your legs and up through your chest. 

“F-Frankie, I- oh fuck- fuck, oh my god, fuck, I- I- oh my go-ahhhhhhhhhh-”  

It’s all consuming, the way the pleasure washes over you, like waves crashing into the shoreline- relentless and never ending. There’s a moment you’re convinced your body’s left this planet, floating off in space in a cloud of endless ecstasy. 

You’re not sure how long you’re lost in the electricity of it all- Minutes? Hours? Years? You’d believe any and all of the above. Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as you come to, greeted with the image of Frankie still settled between your legs, wild haired and goofy grinned. 

“Frankie…. Holy fuck.” 

A beaming, boyish smile lights up across his face at the way you’re panting, wiping the shiny slick stained around his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Yeah? D-did it feel good? Did you um- did you-” 

“Yeah. Holy shit. Remind me to thank Santi’s cousin if I ever meet him.” 

“Jesus Christ…” Frankie sighs, rolling his eyes at your giggles, heart melting at the way he can’t hide his rosy cheeks and curled lips every time he looks at you, “It felt good though? Like, Actually?” 

“Yeah, it felt really good, Frankie.” You coo, watching Frankie prop himself up to sit back on his haunches, letting your gaze wander down his bare chest until you reach the clearly tented fabric of his pajama pants, lingering just long enough for him to notice where you’re staring. 

Silent tension fills the room again, the both of you realizing that you’ve only conquered one part of the journey you’ve embarked on together, and that the second half of your travels pose many more risks than the first. Frankie is the only one you want by your side as you brave your adventure together. 

With a little push, your back parts with his mattress, sitting up to close the gap between you. You’re close enough now that your hands can roam up his thighs, softly palming at the stiff bulge straining under his pants. 

“Oh f-fuck-” Frankie stutters, jaw going slack with ever pass your hand makes over his erection. 

“Can I take off your pants, Frankie?” You whisper, burying your head in the crook of his neck, craning your head just enough so that the hot words of your breath dance in his ear. 

You can barely finish your sentence before Frankie’s scrambling off the edge of the bed, standing up straight to give you the easiest access to shuffle his pajamas down while you kneel on the mattress. 

You pray Frankie can’t feel the way your fingers shake as they sink under his waistband and brush against his stomach, pulling his bottoms down just slow enough to memorize the subtle V that sinks between his hips, or the soft trail of barely there brown hair under his belly button that thickens with every tug. 

With one final breath, you slide them down enough to finally free what’s been hiding underneath, his length fully hard, bobbing as it springs free. This must have been what it felt like for Frankie, understanding the way his eyes went wide and brain went blank after he saw you for the first time.

It’s not like it’s a surprise to you, the concept of what he’s had tucked away in his pants.

What does, is how the sight of it nearly knocks the wind out of you. 

“F-Frankie… Holy shit.” 

“What? I-is something wrong?” He winces, immediately bracing himself for the worst. 

“No, it’s just- just like, Holy shit, Frankie.” You reiterate, making it very clear you’re more than impressed as you gesture at what’s hanging in front of you. 

“O-oh, t-thanks.” He stutters, a sweet shyness overtaking him as a result of your admiration. 

You scoot yourself closer, a boldness overcoming you as you delicately wrap your hand around his length, slowly sliding it up and down his shaft. You pray that whatever you’re doing feels okay, but from the way Frankie’s whimpers and moans escape from his parted lips, you take it as a sign you’re safe to take another step further.

“Since you went down on me, do you want me to go down on-” 

“N-no!” He pauses, drowning his face in his palm for the way he’s panicking, making you drop him from your grasp, “No, I- uh- shit- sorry, sorry, no it’s just- No, not because I don’t want you to- b-believe me, I really want you to. Like, really want you to.” 

“O-okay, so?” 

He must feel awful for the puzzled and pained expression on your face, reaching with both hands to cradle your jaw, making sure your gaze is fixated on him. 

“I’m sorry, I promise nothing’s wrong, I just- fuck- I don’t wanna cum yet and I know if you go down on me, I will in like two seconds, and I wanna cum when we’re having sex. I-if you still wanna, ya know, have sex. Jesus, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I freaked out like that. I think I’m- I’m nervous, too. ” 

The top of your teeth graze your lower lip, batting your lashes in heavy, long blinks, your lips curling in a sympathetic smile that you’re not alone in your uneasiness. Finding comfort in the uncomfortability, together. Knowing how easy it would be for him to play it all off like no big deal, or pretend to mask the confidence he lacks, and yet, he doesn’t, makes you want him even more. 

“Do you still want to? I- I’m nervous too, but I want to. It makes me feel less nervous that it’s with you.” 

The tender kiss he plants on your lips as your bodies move in sync down the bed is the only answer you need, shuffling backwards towards the pillows while Frankie hovers his body over you, mouths only parting to let you settle into the mattress. 

Each kiss becomes more frantic and desperate than the last, mouths melting together as your tongues wrestle. The way he kisses you is all consuming, enough to make you feel like the only people in the world that exist in this moment are you and him. 

“You sure you want to?” He gasps, fighting for his words to escape his parted lips. 

“I’m sure.” You whisper back, barely soft enough for him to hear. 

The two of you nod, Frankie shifting his weight to reach across you, shuffling through the drawer of his nightstand until he fishes out the box of condoms he has hidden away. He sits back on his knees, carefully ripping a square from the line of packages, tossing the rest over the side of the bed. He’s even more delicate as he tears the edge of the foil he’s holding in his hands, removing the rubber and methodically rolling it down over his shaft. 

“It’s on right... Right?” 

“Yeah. I practiced putting them on earlier this week so I didn’t look like a complete idiot when I tried to do it the first time. Although I think telling you that probably makes me look like an even bigger idiot.” 

“No it doesn’t,” You softly reassure him, “I’d rather have you do that than put it on wrong. I don’t want any of your babies yet, Morales.” 

Yet. 

You’re not sure what makes your brain decide to add those three letters into your sentence. You’re also not sure why you don’t hate that it did. There’s a part of you that thinks there’s a chance that maybe Frankie didn't hear it, but you know that boy would die before he stopped hanging onto every word that fell from your lips. 

There’s a part of you that also swears he’s trying with everything in him to keep from smiling. 

Your attention shifts with Frankie’s body, hovering back over yours with his fist wrapped around the base of his shaft, sinking his hips to line himself up with your entrance. His tip brushes against your clit, a familiar jolt of pleasure swirling in your stomach at how you clench around nothing, anxious and aching to feel him inside you. 

“I-if it’s too much, or it doesn’t feel good, or you wanna stop, just-” 

“I know, Frankie. I’ll tell you, I promise.” 

Your low exhale syncs with Frankie’s gulp, each of you bracing yourselves as you finally feel his tip breach inside you. You try your best to relax, squirming your bottom half with each inch Frankie sinks himself deeper. You’re sure there’s a wince as he pushes past the halfway point- not painful, but a sting and stretch in a way you’ve never felt. Frankie freezes, gently grabbing your hip. 

“You good, Kenzie? You want me to stop?” 

“No, I’m okay, just kind of stings a little, but it still feels good. Maybe if you didn’t have such a big dick, it wouldn’t be a problem.” You tease, letting out a little huff of laughter. 

It’s now Frankie’s turn to scrunch the muscles of his face, cocking your head at the grit of his teeth. 

“Frankie, are you okay?” 

“Yup. Yup, I’m good. When you laughed it squeezed my dick and it felt really good and I’m trying not to make a fucking fool of myself right now.” 

“Sorry, no more laughing, got it.” You grimace, desperately trying not to giggle at Frankie’s pained concentration as he shakes his head at you. “Y- you can keep going, though.” 

“F-fuck, o-okay.” 

There’s another deep breath before he’s pushing his hips towards you, taking his time as you feel the pain start to shift to indescribable pleasure, the feeling of how full he is inside of you making every wire in your brain short circuit. 

“Holy fucking shit.” Frankie whispers under his breath, “Fuck, you feel so good, MacKenzie.” 

You wish you had the words to tell him how you feel the same, but the best you can muster is a muffled moan that escapes from your unhinged jaw, brain empty at the sweet stretch of his fullness, stagnant inside you. 

F-fuck Frankie. Oh my god.” You murmur, letting the muscles of your face untense so the weight of your eyelids can flutter open, soaking in the image of Frankie above you. The rest of your body follows, slowly beginning to relax as you adjust, yearning for more than just his hips flushed against yours. “Y-you can move, Frankie.” 

He lets his arms sink from the plank he’s holding, letting your chests flush together so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck, groaning into your skin with the first thrust of his hips, steadily sliding in and out of your heat, savoring every second of the sensation. 

“You still okay, baby?” Frankie coos into your ear, the new nickname only adding to the way you want to clench down around his length as he keeps his languid pace, dragging his cock along the warmth and wetness of your walls. 

“Mhmmm. You can go faster, i-if you want. F-fuck, it feels so good, Frankie.” 

The way you whimper and whine his name sets off a low rumble deep in his chest, lips locking with yours as you feel him pump just a little harder, his length nudging the same, savory spot he had found before with his fingers. Your hand shoots up to wrap around his bicep, nails marking crescent moons in his skin. 

Every move he makes is solely based on your reaction, reading the way your body responds to him before daring to take a step further. Your iron grip and sweet moans are enough to spur him on further, a steady rhythm now working through each thrust of his hips. 

There’s a new knot in your stomach that starts to tighten, building in your gut and slowly creeping its way to spread throughout your body. The coarse hairs curling at the base of his shaft brush against your clit just enough to spark a jolt of electricity to your core, bucking your hips into his with each thrust. You’re desperate to reach the same high he had given you before, eager to ease the ache of your sensitive bud. 

Frankie picks up on the way you rut back into him, snaking his hand down your front, making just enough space between your bodies to let the pads of his fingers find your clit. The pressure he adds with the circles and swirls makes your breath hitch in the back of your throat, overwhelmed with arousal by how all encompassing Frankie is. 

It’s hard to believe how quickly you find yourself becoming addicted to him, your body yearning to become one with his and never separate. You want your heart, your soul, for all of it to be his, and only his, to be unable to find where you end and he begins. 

The only thing you want is to be his. 

With each stroke, your pussy flutters faster around his length, the tingle that had formed at the base of your spine now seeping through your veins, teetering on the brink of collapse. 

“F-fuck- fuck, Frankie, don’t stop. Fuck, I- I think I’m- I’m close.” 

If it was anyone else, there would be no words to describe the embarrassment from the pathetic whimper you let out at the way Frankie groans while he punches into you. A look of pained concentration splays across his face, focusing with every brain cell he has left to make sure you finish first. 

“Shit- I- I- fuck, I’m close, too.” He stutters, chest heaving in between each word. 

He presses his forehead into yours, meeting you with the tacky sheet of sweat that now clings to his skin and dampens his curls. His scent, his warmth, the weight of his body laid across yours- you almost dare to wish that this moment, this feeling, would never end. 

But the way he whispers your name, each letter warm and tickling your skin, a sweet symphony only he can sing is what sends you over the edge, pushing you past the point of no return. 

“M-MacKenzie… f-fuck, MacKenzie-”  

Each syllable is an explosion inside you, lighting you up to send sparks through every last limb until you’re sobbing his name, singing his own sweet song back to him. 

“Frankie, Frankie, Frankiefrankiefrankie-ahhhhh-” 

The dam inside you finally breaks, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you as you squeeze around him, swallowed whole by the electricity of it all. 

There’s not much your mind can process after you snap, but there’s enough strength left to keep your gaze locked on Frankie and the way he gasps as his jaw drops after you’ve finished. He’s just as lost as you, relishing in your afterglow as he chases his own high, each thrust more sloppy and erratic than the last. 

“Fuck, fuck, holy shit MacKenzie, fuck, I’m gonna cum so ha-aaaaahhh-” 

There’s only one last shift of his hips before he’s spilling into the condom, a final moan that follows his release as he collapses into you. Your chests rise and fall in sync, breaths heavy as you pant in the soft silence that fills the room.

The quiet brings a gentle comfort, basking in the bliss that radiates off each of you as you let yourselves drift back to earth, praying it gives you enough time to remember how to speak. 

It’s Frankie who arrives back first, too consumed with your own journey back to hear the way his voice breaks as he carefully whispers your name. 

“MacKenzie?” 

“Yeah, Frankie?” 

“C-can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.” 

His sweet call brings you back, thumb brushing against the warmth of his cheek, waiting on every word he's working himself up to say.

“MacKenzie, I- MacKenzie, I- I think I love you.” 

It's then you're sure your heart stops- four little letters forcing a smile so wide across your face, your positive your cheeks may hurt for days after.

Maybe, if you're lucky, they'll keep hurting like this for the rest of your life.

“Can I tell you something, Morales? I think I might just love you, too.” 

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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[chaos-in-deepspace]

Stalker Rafayel (but it's not what you expect, and also you're oblivious)

Just a word before this: These are all SFW things. Nothing graphic. This isn't how I perceive Rafayel at all, but there's a little more info at the end as to why I wrote this.

Stalker Rafayel who is obsessed with you while you're in college and begins learning your schedule. He never shows himself but he's always there in the background watching you and sometimes sketching you in his sketchbook.

Stalker Rafayel who decides one day to break into your dorm room and his first thought it "Damn bitch, you really live like this?" and begins cleaning. You come to your dorm room later and see everything is spotless and put in place and you just think "Oh wow, the college must have someone who cleans the dorms before showings. Weird but okay I guess, at least it's clean?"

Stalker Rafayel who notices most of the time you are eating cup of noodle or cheaper foods to make ends meet. He begins stocking your fridge with actual foods. You see this and you're like "I don't recall going grocery shopping but also I've spent the past three days studying and don't remember much so I must have."

Stalker Rafayel who sees you graduate college and leaves you a graduation bouquet but it's filled with money as well as paid vouchers to several spas because he realizes you haven't been taking care of yourself at all.

Stalker Rafayel who continues breaking into your new apartment to clean and leaves cash in your clothes pockets and on the counter. You don't remember where the money came from but it's just chilling in random places so you must've put it there at some point, right? Also hey, free pocket money!

Stalker Rafayel who stole your phone at night and put a tracker app on it so he can see where you are. He also installed a tracker on your motorcycle so he can see how fast it's going and if you're speeding or being reckless he can manually make the bike go slower.

Stalker Rafayel who was the one who told the kid to ask you to catch the fish, just so he'd have an excuse to be suave and catch it for you. When he walks away he's mentally patting himself on the back for having such an amazing plan.

Stalker Rafayel who knew you were going to be going to Mo Studio and had the door unlocked already for you. He was planning on making a good impression for your first actual meeting but fell off his perch instead because he was so nervous. He had legit had 20 mental scenarios on how he'd introduce himself properly and it all fell apart and he's legit laying in bed for a week thinking about it over and over again.

Stalker Rafayel who is happy he employed you as his bodyguard so now he has an excuse to just send you money whenever he wants instead of having to sneak it into your apartment (he still does it though because he's worried).

Stalker Rafayel who notices you haven't been getting much rest or breaks from work. He invites you out for dinner saying he needs some protection while he eats. He slips something into your drink while you're not looking. It's nothing that would actually harm you, but it does give you a headache bad enough that you have to call out of work the next day and get some proper rest.

Stalker Rafayel who is always checking your work schedule and any free day you have or whenever you have enough vacation time is telling you he needs to travel and is bringing you along. He's taking you to all inclusive vacation spots and dragging you to the spa and every other form of self care so when you go back to work you're fresh.

Stalker Rafayel who follows you around while you're working and is secretly taking out any wanderers or issues so you don't have to worry about it.

Stalker Rafayel who is fine with other people getting close to you, but the moment he notices you're uncomfortable in a situation is suddenly stepping in. He's fine with other people perceiving him as the villain who doesn't like people touching 'what's his' as long as you're comfortable it's all he cares about.

Stalker Rafayel who eventually gets you to agree to dating him, and is then inviting you to live with him just so he can make sure you're taken care of. If you decline then he's just going to find every excuse to have you stay the night until you're practically living with him.

Anyways...I feel like a lot of people write yandere stalker versions of the guys and they always do the same type. There's other ways to write yandere, this is just one of them. Enjoy to anyone who likes stalker content.

[bloodibambiidoll]

Best Mates

(Fuck boy!Aplha!Eddie Munson x Bestfriend!Omega!Reader)

Summary: You’ve always been in love with your bestfriend, you never thought anything would ever come of it until you present as an omega and he spends your heat with you. WK: 5.5k My Masterlist

Warnings: 18+MINDI Omegaverse so generall a/b/o behaviors. Scenting, knotting, marking, breeding kink, unprotected sex, possessiveness from both Eddie and reader, pining, heartbreak, Eddie leaves reader after her heat so there some angst but they get a happy ending. Pls lmk if I missed any!!

A/N: So this is my first time writing both omegaverse and angst, so I was pretty nervous going into this but I’m actually pretty proud of how it turned out! I’d love feedback, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Also shout out to my Lessy poo for giving me some advice @lesservillain (divider used is by @firefly-graphics)

Eddie has been your best friend since middle school and you realized pretty early on that you were in love with him. You remember the exact moment, you were both 16 when a senior cheerleader pulled him into a janitor's closet and he fucked her up against the wall. He told you about it excitedly, in a particular Eddie fashion but each word felt like a knife to your heart. He got the van a few months after that and it only got worse from there. If it wasn’t cheerleaders sneaking around with him behind their boyfriends backs it was band girls who heard through the grapevine how good of a fuck he was asking him to take their virginity.

He would always rant and rave to you about his escapades during your weekly Friday night hang outs and each time it broke your heart. But you listened, because that’s what best best friends do. You’ve had a few boyfriends and you were no virgin yourself but you hardly ever went into details with him and it never worked out because none of them were Eddie. No matter how hard you tried not to compare them to him, you always did.

When you were 18 he presented as an alpha, you graduated and he didn’t, so you hoped maybe he would settle down and find an omega but even if he didn’t at least you wouldn’t be around him everyday anymore to see it. But that didn’t happen, instead he kept fucking men and women alike, omegas, betas, it didn’t matter to him as long as he had a warm hole to fill. You didn’t escape having to see it either, he would take people into the bathroom after shows at the hideout, leaving you to ride home with one of the other guys. You would overhear girls in your college classes whispering about him, how big he is, how hard they fucked them, and it not only broke you but it just made you want him more.

At twenty one you’ve yet to present and at this point you’d given up hope of it ever happening. Your mom is an alpha and your dad is an omega so you always thought you’d present, but you were starting to think you were wrong. That is until today.

You were laying in your bed, your sheets soaked through with slick and sweat, whining with your hand between your legs desperately trying to relieve the pressure, even just a little bit. But nothing was helping, you even tried to use your toy which you quickly learned was a mistake, the vibrations too much for your sensitive clit. You considered calling Eddie, more than once, even going as far as to pull up his contact on your phone before talking yourself out of it. You didn’t want him like this, not just because he felt obligated to help you but because you wanted him to want you because you were you. That’s all you ever wanted.

He had texted you several times, and called twice but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to answer him. He would know something was off with you immediately and wouldn’t believe you if you lied. You felt hopeless as you rolled around in your bed, the only thing that offered you any sort of comfort was the flannel he had left at your house last week. You hugged it tight to your body, the bottom half clenched between your thighs, the other end held up to your nose as you inhaled his scent.

You were half drifted off, still clutching his flannel for dear life when you heard a knock on your door. You groaned, rolling over and deciding to ignore it, there was no way you could answer the door like this. You ditched your tank top and panties hours ago, your hair is all over the place from rolling around in your sweat, and most of all you physically don’t feel like you can move right now. That plan was quickly thrown out the window when you heard it again, this time it wasn’t just a knock though, someone was pounding on your door.

You didn't have to wonder who it was for long, his voice yelling out your name as the loud knocks persisted. Why the fuck was he here? You knew he had plans tonight so you figured he wouldn’t notice you hadn’t replied until later. It only made you want to ignore it more, you couldn’t face him, not like this.

“Open this fucking door or I’m going to break it down!! I know you’re in there I can smell you!”

Fuck. You didn’t even think about the fact that he could probably smell your heat, even from where he was. You wanted to ignore him, let him bang on the door until he finally gave up, but something told you he wouldn’t. That he would really break down your door to get to you, and you couldn’t help the warm feeling that filled your insides at the thought of him breaking down the door just to get to you. You knew you couldn’t resist him, not physically, even if your mind really wanted you to.

You groaned as you peeled yourself from your bed, grabbing some soft cotton panties out of your drawer and throwing his flannel over you without even really thinking about it. You felt dizzy and weak as you dragged yourself to the front door, but as soon as you hit the hallway it was like someone woke you up. You could smell him and the smell instantly brought the same kind of comfort as the flannel, if smelling him from here felt this amazing you could only imagine what it would be like to shove your nose in his neck and just inhale.

Suddenly the doubts in your mind were gone, you couldn’t even remember why you didn’t want to answer the door in the first place. You just want Eddie. Your pace picks up as you walk down your small apartment hallway and rip the door open. You smell him two seconds before your eyes meet and you feel like someone just knocked the wind out of you. His nostrils are flared, his pupils are dilated to the point that his eyes look black, the look in them wild.

“Why the fuck didn’t you call me?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just pushes past you into your apartment, slamming and locking the door behind him. He walks up to you so you’re toe to toe with him, he’s towering over you, staring into your eyes with lust and fury.

“I’m serious, why didn’t you fucking call me? I called you, you could’ve told me what was going on, you know I would’ve helped you.” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, that combined with smelling him this close makes you whimper and you feel a rush of slick drip down your legs, right through the panties you just put on.

“I - I didn’t want you to feel pressured to help me Eddie, I know you’d only be doing it because you feel bad.” You wanted to break eye contact but you felt like he had you locked in place without even touching you.

“Pressured? You really think I would feel pressured? You don’t think I’d come just because I want to help my best friend through this?”

Best friend. Hearing those words come out of his mouth right now almost makes you gag.

“I don’t know.” You just shrug, not sure what else to say.

It’s then that he takes a second to take you in. You’re wearing his flannel and it’s not even buttoned so he can see everything but your nipples, you have on these little white cotton panties, there’s slick dripping down your legs and your fucking smell. He’s never smelled anything like it, anything better. He’s scented and knotted several other omegas, but no ones ever smelled as good as you.

He inhales deeply, reaching out to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“Let me help you little omega, you smell so good, I can smell how badly you want me.” His hands run up your shoulders and rub over your neck, right where your scent gland is, and even just this simple touch makes your head spin even more. You want him to kiss you there. Bite you. You wanted him to mate you, but you’d never tell him that.

“Okay.”

It came out small and shaky but it was enough for him. He surges forward and crashes his lips against yours, his tongue immediately swiping over your bottom lip. When it intertwines with yours you moan at the taste of him. He pulls away, kissing down your jaw to that spot on your neck and your knees buckle. He catches you with ease, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your room.

He tosses you on the bed and it causes the flannel to fall open, exposing your tits fully to him. Your legs are spread without you even realizing it and he can see how truly soaked you are now.

“Look at you baby, wearing my flannel, you have no idea what that’s doing to me. You look so fucking sexy and smell so fucking good. Gonna make you mine, my omega.” He’s not even really thinking about what he’s saying now, your scent and the sight of you so desperate for him clouding his mind. “I need to taste you.”

He lays down between your legs and immediately attaches his mouth to your clothed core, swirling his tongue over your overly sensitive clit with a groan. You moan loudly and arch your back.

“Eddie, Eddie, please please don’t tease me, make me feel good, I need you. I can't wait anymore.” He continues lapping at your clothed pussy for a few more seconds before pulling away.

“You want my knot, princess? Is that what you’re saying? I wanna hear you say it.” The people who you are outside this moment are completely gone, all thoughts of friendship and consequences out the window.

“Please please please, want it so bad.” You’re wiggling under him, your hips rocking back and forth in search of friction, you can’t take it anymore you’ve been aching for hours and your body knew it was aching for him.

“You don’t need to beg, sweet girl, I’ve got you. Let’s get these off…”

You barely have time to process what’s happening before he’s ripping your panties clean in half, bringing them to his mouth and sucking your juices before throwing them over his shoulder. He hastily rips the flannel from your body before tossing it in the same direction. He stands up momentarily to hastily rip off his own clothes, your eyes widen when you see him fully bare in front of you.

He’s more buff than he used to be and his pale skin is littered with more tattoos than he had a few years ago, his brown curls are even messier than usual and when your eyes trail down his body they pause at the little trail of hair under his belly button before stopping at his cock. You’ve heard rumors about it for years, you’ve seen it through his sweatpants more times than you could count but nothing could’ve prepared you for the real thing.

“Alpha, I want you inside me, fill me up please please.” You hardly even recognize your own voice anymore but you’d do or say anything to have him inside you right now.

“It’s okay baby, I’m going to make it all better, make all the pain go away, yeah?”

He comes back up onto the bed between your legs, grabbing them and placing them on either side of his thighs. He grabs his cock in his hand and pumps it a few times before slowly inserting the tip inside you. He wants to take his time with you, he really does, but he just can’t. He slams the rest of the way into you in one stroke, he leans over you on his forearms and starts fucking you at a brutal pace.

The weight of his body and the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly has an unexpected orgasm crashing through you immediately. The relief you’ve been seeking for hours brought onto you in mere minutes. He continues to pound into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You turn your face to run your nose along his neck and inhale his scent, the smell sending you hurtling into another mind blowing orgasm. He kept fucking you hard and deep, pushing you to the edge over and over again.

“Fuck! Eddieeee you feel so fucking - so fucking good, so so good. Thank you alpha thank you thank you.” You’ve been moaning and saying things you never thought you’d have the courage to say, the moans coming out of your mouth were sounds you didn’t even know you were capable of making.

“This pussy feels so fucking good, feels like it was made for my cock. Tell me it’s mine, tell me this pussy belongs to me.”

“It’s yours - it’s yours! Only y-yours, my pussy belongs to you alpha!”

He growls into your neck as he leaves hot wet kisses over your scent gland, his thirsts start to grow sloppy and you feel his teeth nipping lightly at your flesh and you want him to just bite down.

“You’re so fucking good for me, such a good fucking girl. You’re gonna make me fucking cum.” You feel his cock twitch inside you the same moment you feel his teeth sink into your neck, the feeling sends a warmth through your body you’ve never felt before and you barely have time to process that feeling because seconds later he’s painting your walls with his cum. The feeling makes you cum right along with him but the euphoria is short lived when you feel a stabbing pain inside you.

“Shh shh, baby it’s okay, it’s just my knot, it’s only gonna hurt for a second I promise.” His voice is soft and calming, a stark contrast from the deep commanding tone he’d had since he showed up at your door. His hand reaches up to cup your jaw, rubbing his thumb over your cheek while his nose nuzzles into the bite on your neck. After a moment the pain subsides and is replaced by overwhelming pleasure, sending you into a final orgasm.

“You okay?” He pushes up on his forearms to look at you and he almost feels like he’s gonna cum again. Your hair is a mess, your face is flushed, your skin slick with sweat, and his bite mark, slightly bloody, is displayed on your neck. He knew it wouldn’t take, since you didn’t ask him, but that didn’t stop him from imagining that it did, imagining you were his.

“Yeah, I’m good, I still - I’m still…” you struggled to find the words to describe how you were feeling.

“You feel satisfied but like you still want more, is that it?” His thumb runs over your cheek again and he leans down to rub his nose against yours, the gesture so gentle it almost brings you to tears.

“Mhm.” You nod.

“Well don’t worry babe, you’re stuck with me for the next week. I’ll be here for you, okay?” He grabs onto you so he can roll over onto his back with you on top of him. He lightly puts his hand on your back, pushing you down so your chest is flat against his and he can run his hands along your bare body.

“Okay Eddie, thank you…”

He kept his word and stayed with you through your entire heat, having one of the guys drop some stuff off for the both of you. He doted on you, fucked you and knotted you more times than you could count that it almost made you forget that he wasn’t really your mate, that he was just doing this to help his best friend. So the day you woke up feeling normal and he left to return to his regular life, to return to just being your best friend, you felt like he took a piece of you with him.

You hadn’t seen Eddie all week, which wasn’t that out of the ordinary these days since you both had work and you had classes. He’s called you a few times but you dodged them, only responding to a few of his many texts with short replies. Even managing to dodge your Friday night hang out under the guise of helping a friend with guy troubles.

But tonight Robin and Steve were dragging you to a party and you knew Eddie would be there because he asked you if you were going. You didn’t go overboard getting ready but you did wear your favorite little black dress and add a little more makeup than you usually would. If you were going to see him you were at least going to look hot.

When you get to the party you can already tell he was there. You haven’t laid eyes on him yet but the moment you walked into the door you could smell him. Even through all the smoke, bodies, and spilled beer you could smell his warm musky scent clear as day. It made you dizzy, it made you want to run. You weren’t sure if it was towards him or straight out of the party, you just knew you wanted to run.

You were one drink of mystery punch in when you finally laid eyes on him and you immediately knew which way you wanted to run. He was in the living room, with this beta girl from your English class pressed up against the wall. Your red cup slipped from your grasp and crashed onto the floor, the remaining liquid splashing all over the ground and your feet. You immediately dashed for the door, slipping in the liquid and bumping into a table that had a game of beer pong going on it.

The beer spilled all over the ground and the table tipped back and forth for a moment before landing back on its four legs. Almost every set of eyes there was on you, including the pair you wanted on you the least. You locked eyes with him for a moment, his filled with concern and something else you couldn’t decipher and yours brimmed with tears. You saw him start to untangle from the girl and took that as your sign to bolt. You ran out of the party and down the street, not even caring how you got home.

It’s been a few days since then but it felt like weeks. Eddie had called and texted you more times than you could count at this point. You had avoided every single one up until he threatened to just come over again to which you responded “I need time.” He stopped texting you after that.

You were on autopilot, work and class going by in a daze. You finally had the day off and Robin agreed to come over to keep you company. She brought snacks and you watched a few movies together. You were worried that you would feel different around her after you presented since she was an alpha but she didn’t smell any different to you. When you realized you couldn’t smell any of the alphas you’ve been around, it hit you, Eddie mated you that day.

When Robin leaves you’re back sitting with your thoughts of Eddie. What he might be doing, who he might be doing. You missed him and you hated it. You sighed as your hand subconsciously made its way up to the now almost healed bite on your neck. It had started to scab and show signs of scarring and each time you saw it your heart broke a little more. How could you be so stupid? You thought since you didn’t vocalize that you wanted him to mate you it wasn’t supposed to stick, but it did.

Once you realized it, everything started to make sense. The way you could smell him the minute you walked into that party, how you couldn’t smell any other alphas, the piece of you that felt like it was missing without him around. Eddie was your mate and he was still out fucking around with other people. It made you sick.

Your thoughts are disrupted by a banging on the door and the minute you hear his voice calling your name it’s like you're sent back to that day that he came to you when you needed him most. Part of you wanted to ignore him, let him bang on the door until he gave up, but the part of you that wanted to see him outweighed it.

When you open the door he’s standing there looking just as wild as that day but something about his scent is off and it makes you gag.

“We need to talk.” He looks and sounds pissed and it makes you scoff.

“Yeah? Why don’t you go talk to whatever fucking omega you smell like right now because you fucking reak.” You wrinkle your nose at him and scowl. Was he seriously pissed at you right now?

“That’s what we need to fucking talk about! Can I please just fucking come in?” He can tell you’re about to argue with him further so he just walks past you, leaving you in the doorway with your mouth hanging open.

“What the hell do you want from me Eddie!? You fucking mated me and then you left me! I see you a week later with your tongue down some girl's throat and now you show up at my door smelling like another omega!? Asking to TALK!? Okay let’s fucking talk Eddie. We can talk. Let’s talk about how you’ve made me feel for almost our entire lives!! From the minute you fucked Allison in that janitors closet you’ve been breaking my fucking heart! Every single time you tell me about your hook ups it makes me want to fucking DIE Eddie!! But I sit there and I listen because I’m a good best friend and I could take it as long as you were still in my life! But then you come here, you spend my heat with me and you treat me like I mean the world to you, like your mate, then you just LEAVE and act like none of it ever happened!! I can’t take it anymore!! I can’t let you hurt me like this anymore Eddie I can’t!”

Tears are streaming down your face and your voice is cracking from yelling, you bang your fits on his solid chest while you sob. “FUCK YOU EDDIE MUNSON!! I hate you I hate you I-“

Your rant is cut off by him grabbing your face and kissing you roughly. You grab onto his hair and pull him closer, no matter how much you want to push him away your body betrays you. After a second you pull back with a fire in your eyes, and slap him across the face.

“Princess… baby, you need to calm down.” His voice comes out stern, matter of fact, and it takes everything in you to resist his command.

“Calm down!? Calm down!? You told me you wanted to talk, kissing me to shut me up isn’t talking, Edward!”

“You WEREN’T LETTING ME TALK!! If you just listen to me for five fucking seconds!! I didn’t fucking know okay!? I didn’t know I mated you until TODAY. I thought since you didn’t ask me to mate you it wouldn’t stick, it never has before, but you’re different. You are my mate and I think my heart always knew that even if my brain was too dumb to realize it!”

“So what? It took you fucking TWO other people for you to realize I was the one for you? How fucking romantic!!”

“I didn’t fuck them!! I couldn’t, okay!? After I smelled you at the party from across the room I tired to fuck that beta chick at that party to get you off my mind but I couldn’t even get hard. I figured maybe it was just because she was a beta so I tried to be with another omega and she smelled DISGUSTING to me, the minute her arms wrapped around me I GAGGED and I came straight here!!”

“You didn’t fuck them but you still let them touch you!! You went to them! You tried! When you’re fucking mine Eddie! Do you know how much that hurts!?” You try to push him back but he grabs onto your wrists to hold you in place.

“You’re saying all this but I can smell alpha on you, and all over this entire apartment!!” He’s holding your wrists to his chest to keep you close, his eyes are boring into yours and you feel like he’s trying to look into your soul.

“Yeah ROBIN!! She came over to keep me company because I was wallowing in self pity over your dumb ass!! I CAN’T EVEN SMELL HER EDDIE! I can’t smell any other alphas besides you!!” You struggle against his hold, just wanting to back away from his scent that’s clouding your mind.

“Princess… calm down.” He’s using his alpha voice on you again and even though your body wants nothing more than to obey his command your anger outweighs it.

“Take your clothes off and get on the fucking couch Eddie. Now.” Your voice is stern and matter of fact, your eyes filled with fury so he decides not to question you. Dropping your wrists from his hold, stripping himself before walking over to the couch to lay back on it. He wanted to please you just as much as you wanted to please him. At this point he would do anything to prove to you that he’s yours.

He watches with wide eyes as you strip yourself as well, walking over to stand over him. The look on your face is one he’s only ever seen a few times, pure rage. You looked like you wanted to rip him to pieces, it was honestly turning him on. You swing your leg over his hips so you can straddle him and he moans when he feels your wet pussy touch his thigh.

“Ugh - god you smell fucking horrible Eddie.”

The scent of the other omega still lingered on his skin and you wanted to rip it off. You glare at him as you grab his cock in your hand and spit on it, pumping him a few times before raising up to line him up with your entrance, immediately slamming down on him and inserting him fully inside you. You don’t even give him time to process the feeling of your warm pussy engulfing him, you just start riding him like your life depends on it, because right now it feels like it does. He’s a moaning mess beneath you, his hands gripping onto your hips for dear life while he watches you bounce on his cock, mesmerized by the sight of you.

“Tell me whose cock this is Eddie, tell me who you belong to.” Your hips are flush against his while you rock back and forth on his cock, his head rubbing against your g-spot deliciously. Your hands are planted on his chest and your nails dig into his flesh, wanting to mark him in any way possible.

“It’s your - yours baby! I promise I p-promise, it’s always - fuck! - it’s always been yours!!” You start bouncing on his cock again, using his chest for leverage to slam up and down on him over and over again.

“You’re fucking mine Eddie, my Alpha!! Mine mine mine.” You drag your nails down his chest before leaning forward to rub your nose along his neck. You felt a rush of relief when it only smelled like him, she might’ve touched him but she didn’t scent him.

Your hips slowed and Eddie took it as an opportunity to tighten his grip on your hips and start fucking up into you.

“I’m yours and you’re mine princess.” He’s pistoling his cock into you now, getting deeper and going harder than you could yourself and an orgasm quickly creeps up on you. He feels you clench around him while your cum coats his cock. “This is my fucking pussy, you’re my fucking omega.”

You’re moaning so loud you’re sure your neighbors can hear you, your nails digging so deep into his chest that they’re breaking skin now and your nose is shoved into his neck, inhaling his scent while he fucks you so hard it makes you whole body vibrate. You latch your lips onto his neck and suck causing him to throw his head back and growl, fucking you impossibly harder.

“Gonna fill this fucking pussy up, maybe I’ll knock you up then everyone will know exactly who you belong to. Who I belong to.” His hands grip onto your ass and he plants his feet onto the couch as his thrusts pick up, the thought of you with his baby inside you making him insane.

“Yes y - yes! Breed my pussy alpha! Fill me up! I want it I - f - fuck! I want it so bad please please.”

“Yeah baby? You want that? Want me to fuck a baby into you?” You whimper and nod into his neck but that’s not enough for him, he grabs you by your hair pulling your face up so he can look you in the eyes. “Tell me you want it, tell me you want me to fuck a baby into, tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours! I’m yours! I’ve always been yours, I want it, I want you to breed me alpha!”

The sound of you begging him to begging him to do the one thing his body is programmed to do above all else drives him insane. He knows you aren’t on any kind of omega safe birth control yet and the possibility of it sticking makes him absolutely feral.

“Mark me Eddie, I want you to mate me!” He looks at the almost healed bite mark on your neck, you both know he technically already did but he understands what you mean, understands that you want to know it’s happening this time. So he runs his nose along the mark before sinking his teeth into your throat.

The feeling sends you both over the edge. Your walls tighten around him while he pumps you full of his cum. A few seconds later you feel that now familiar stinging as his knot expands inside you. He grabs your face in his hands and kisses you with a passion that you’ve always dreamed of. This kiss feels like your real first kiss and it makes warmth blossom inside you. He pulls away so he can look you in the eyes, his hands still cupping your face while he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“I love you, you know? I’ve always loved you. I just never thought I was good enough, never thought you would feel the same way. So I pushed those feelings down, and buried them in person after person and I know that’s awful. But please let me prove to you how much you mean to me, forever.”

“I love you Eddie Munson, even though you’re a huge idiot sometimes, how you didn’t see it is beyond me. I feel like I was blindingly obvious.” You chuckle and playfully roll your eyes at him.

“I’m sorry, for all the hurt I’ve put you through, I promise I’ll never hurt you again, okay? You’re my mate now, I’m only going to protect you from here on out.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, just basking in the feeling of you.

“It’s okay Eddie, you’re mine now, and I’m not letting you go.” You lay your head on his chest and reach your hand up to tangle your fingers in his hair, running your nails over his scalp.

“You think it’ll stick?”

“You were serious about that? I don’t know, only time will tell. If it doesn’t, we could always try again.” He groans and you feel him twitch inside you.

“Okay maybe let’s talk about this later because my knot is never gonna go down if I keep thinking about getting you pregnant and I really want to take a shower.” You both laugh, the kind of laughing you’ve always done together and it makes you feel whole again.

“I love you Eddie.”

“I love you princess, I’m going to spend every single day until my last proving that to you.”

You giggle and nuzzle into his neck, it feels so right, being in his arms like this. It feels like home.

[jksprincess10]

You just leave it up to me, we could have a good time || Eddie Munson x f!reader

A/N: Thank you to the discord server friends who helped me out with this !!!

Summary: You reunite with Eddie at the hideout, and he confesses that he's still a virgin. You're more than willing to help.

CW: No y/n, no physical descriptions of reader, sub!eddie, virgin!eddie, mentions of drinking, implied small age gap (reader is around 2 years older) awkward idiots, bad DND jokes, oral sex (f receiving), protected p in v, premature ejaculation.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

"That's it Eddie, you're being such a good boy." You slur, drunk on pleasure as you hold up his hair in a ponytail to keep it from getting wet. Eddie slurps energetically on your pussy, encouraged by your kind praises.

It had all started when you reunited with Eddie at The Hideout. After you had graduated - and he had been held back again, you found yourself busy with college life and you rarely saw him, albeit living in a small town.

But a night in a shitty small-town bar led to so much more.

You had forgotten how beautiful he was. And on the stage, guitar in hands, he simply looked in control. You wanted to make him loose it.

"That was really good." You said as you offered him a drink after he went off stage.

He looked at you, and it took a few seconds until he recognized you, his gaze lighting up as he found your name.

"Oh shit! You were at my school, right? One year ahead of me?" He took the drink in his hand, and you couldn't help but notice the rings on his hand. Your eyes slipped from his fingers, then to his big, brown eyes before he caught you staring.

"Yup."

You got to talking and a few drinks later, your tongues had gone loose.

"Did you finally graduate?" You asked, eyebrow raised.  

"I did. I'm just... figuring things out right now. Still a virgin loser, though." He chuckled and lifted his drink for a toast.

"You'd think being a guitarist would help." You laughed and hit your glass against his for a mock-toast. "I can help, though."

"... what?"

"I can fix this." Your fingers grazed his, and his gaze darkened as he looked at you.

"Fuck it, let's go."

"This is my humble apartment." You said as you welcomed him in.

Eddie looked around with a smile on his face.

"Nice. D'you mind if I... freshen up?"

" 'Course not. I like my men clean."

You pointed him to the bathroom, and you waited in your bedroom, undressing to your underwear and your bra. You felt giddy and nervous as you waited for him. When Eddie came out, he was only clad in his boxers, black with a dungeon and dragons log printed a few times.

"Hi." He said awkwardly.

You rose and walked towards him, placing your hands against his chest.

"Hi." You smiled at him, big and sincere. "Can I kiss you?"

Eddie nodded enthusiastically, and you wrapped your hands around his neck to angle his face towards your mouth. He tasted like cheap beer and Chapstick. His lips were surprisingly soft and when he held your waist, you could feel his confidence building. You licked and tugged at his bottom lip until he let you in, you glided your tongue into his mouth. His moans vibrating in your mouth went straight to your core. You pushed him to your unmade, messy bed, and he supported his upper body with his forearms as he looked at you, astounded.

"It's my fucking lucky day, damn." He said, voice rough as he wrapped a hand around your neck, bringing you down to him. You felt his cold rings on your warm skin. Eddie looked you up and down, taking you in, like you were some kind of beautiful dream or perhaps, the type of hallucination he would have on drugs.  

"You know, I always thought you were cute." You confessed as you kissed the corner of his lips.

"You don't have to flatter my ego."

"It's true." You pulled back his hair to look at his face, then your fingers trailed down his chest, lean, with sparse hair and faded tattoos that looked like they were made with a single needle and pen ink.

"Now Eddie, do you know how to please a lady?" You asked in a sultry voice, the pad of your fingers tracing the vague shape of a tattoo that had blown out.

"In... theory." He responded, unsure.

"Do you want me to show you?"

The boy nodded his head a few times, and kissed your forehead as you swapped your positions, pulling him on top of you.

"Just take your time." You took his hands in yours and guided them to the back of your bra. He unclasped it with surprising ease and pulled it down your arms, after tossing it on the floor. "Hey! This shit's expensive, Munson." You joked, falsely offended.

"I'll buy you a new one." He seemed hypnotized by the sight of your breasts. You leaded his hands on your skin, letting him touch, pinch and explore. "Beautiful." He muttered to himself.

"You're cute." You let out without really thinking. You shouldn't get too attached. He smiled shyly, his cheeks red.

"Can you show me how to eat you out? Please?"

"Asking so nicely, like a good boy."

Your words stirred something unknown inside of him and went right to his cock. You could see the online of it through his thin boxers, and you unconsciously licked your lips.

You slid down your panties and opened up your legs for him.

"Go ahead. Spread my lips, lick around until you find my clit."

Eddie's fingers followed your lead, spreading you open. His tongue explored your slit, shyly at first, and when the tip of the wet muscle found your bundle of nerves, he became more confident. You encouraged him with soft praises and moans.

He looked up at you with big, innocent eyes, watching each and every one of your expressions.

"You can suck, graze your teeth... you can be messy. Can you hear how wet you're making me? Do you wanna feel it too?"

“Y-Yes, I hear it.” Eddie whispered against your soaked cunt, the warmth of his mouth heightening with your sensitivity.

Eddie's tongue circled your clit, fast, then slow, before sucking it into your mouth, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

"That's it Eddie, you're being such a good boy." You slur, drunk on pleasure as you hold up his hair in a ponytail to keep it from getting wet. Eddie slurps energetically on your pussy, pushed by your kind praises. "Put your fingers in me."

Slowly, two of his digits breach your hole, stopping at his rings. He looks up at you for approval, and you nod with a fucked-out smirk.

"P-Push them in and out while you keep eating my pussy. Curl your fingers until… you feel something spongey." It was getting difficult to give him instructions as you were blinded by your own pleasure.

As he follows your directions, you arch your back and you gasp when he found the right spot, pulling on his hair tightly.

"R-Right there, oh god Eddie. "

He doubles in fervor and enthusiasm until your legs are shaking and you're gushing on his fingers. You let his hair go, and he sits back on his knees as if to look at a beautiful painting; pussy glistening with your come and his spit.

"You did so fucking good, Eddie." You look up at him as he overs over your body, biting your lip. When you looked down at his crotch, you can see the wetness in his boxers, until you meet his glazed eyes.

"Take this off. I wanna please you."

He lowers his boxers until they rest under his balls. Eddie's cock is red and leaking, his balls, tight. When you wrap your hand around him, he almost looks startled.

"Hey... I'm sorry baby."

"N-No it's just. I might fucking come on the spot if you touch me. Shit."

"It's okay. Tell me what you need." You caress the light stubble on his cheek.

"I-I want to fuck you. If that's okay." Eddie stutters as he pulls his underwear all the way down.

"Of course." Your hand finds a condom in your side table drawer, and you hand it to him. Eddie tears it open with his teeth and unwraps it on his erect cock.

"I'm not... really sure how to do this or-"

You lay a hand on his torso and push him against the bed. "Let me take over." You sit on his lap, and he looks up at you in pure wonder. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and you descend on him slowly. He takes in a sharp, shaky breath.

"So fucking tight. Fuck." He curses, his hands taking place on your waist. When your thighs are flush with his, you give him a few seconds to adjust to the new feeling. "Kiss me. Please." He says needily. You could never refuse anything to this man. You bend down and latch your lips onto his, taking the opportunity to move your hips slowly. He groans into your mouth.

You use your hands to support your upper body, laying your palms against his chest as you jump up and down on his cock, faster. Eddie is a babbling mess under you, thrusting his hips against yours. When you feel him unintentionally hitting that deep spot inside of you, you cry out his name.

"I'm s-sorry... I- I can't last."

"S'okay baby boy. You can come. It's normal on the first time." You say between heavy breaths. Eddie's hips keeps thrusting in a disorganized rhythm, until he stops, deep inside of you. He moans as he comes, so hard until he sees stars.

"Well, that was a fucking NAT 1 on performance." He says as you pull off him. His forearm lays against his forehead as he catches his breath. You snort as you get off him.

"You made me come, so that's better than 90% of dudes. You need anything?"

"Water. Please."

You nod and go to the bathroom, before coming back with two glasses of fresh water that you leave on your bedside table.

Eddie has already discarded the condom and is back in his boxers. "Huh I should... go."

"You can stay. If... if you want."

You watch him drink the water, the way his throat bobs when he swallows.

"Sure. And... I can bring you on a date tomorrow? If you want." He repeats.

You lay on the bed and smile at him. "Yes. Of course Eddie. Let's go on a date."

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better (M)

★  PAIRING: Academic rival!Haechan x afab/fem!reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 4.8k

★ GENRE(S): Smut, E2lover, Rival2lovers

☆ SUMMARY: Haechan and you have never gotten along, and your friend group is sick of it, so they make a bet that the two of you can't ignore. When put to the test, will your hatred for each other still stand?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: 18+, minors do not interact, Meandom! Haechan, aphrodisiac drug, mentions of drinking, sexual bet, sexual intercourse, swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, Haechan being mean, lowkey forgot what I wrote, so just BEWARE.

☆★ NOTES: Yuh! This idea has been stuck in my head for a while. Another saga of me failing the Don't write another hate2love challenge! FYI, I'm not a writer; I'm just a person who writes occasionally. Lovers in e2l not found more of a fuck buddy type relationship. Anyway I just wanted to say thanks for the support on my other fics. I don't usually write that often but the good feedback encourages me.

At this point, your friends were getting tired of it. You two were constantly at each other's throats. They initially believed you could'nt stand one another, but recently, the atmosphere in the room after your shouting matches was too intense to be fueled solely by animosity. The flames behind your eyes burned too brightly for them to be caused by resentment alone. They used to hold you back from lunging at him, but now they wondered what would really happen if you got your hands on him.

Haechan and you had known each other since middle school. You two shared a lot of the same classes, and unfortunately, you both had parents who expected you to excel in school. You were always trying to one-up each other or stamp out the other's resolve. Your relationship was rocky from the start, and even if you two weren't fighting for the top spot, you doubt you would find him likable.

Haechan was a natural at everything. He didn't have to try very hard to be the best; he just got it. On the other hand, despite spending hours studying, you could just barely match his performance. You were jealous of how easy he made it look. The fact that he would flaunt his success in your face didn't help.

“Can't keep up?” He would say after outperforming you on the final exam by 10 points, he had that same smirk that seemed permanently etched onto his face on full display. You had spent days preparing for the test, even skipping a few hours of sleep. Haechan never studied; the most he ever did to prepare for an exam was to quickly skim the material a few hours before the test. Even then, he would still ace it.

You expected to grow up and put the rivalry behind yourselves during high school, but he would jump at any chance to make you look like an idiot. You could say the sky was blue, and he would argue that it was actually the reflection of the ocean that gave the sky the illusion of being blue. Back in middle school, you limited all interactions with him for your own sanity. However, in high school, he somehow managed to join your friend group, so you were forced to endure him during hangouts. You eventually got used to his presence and the non-stop teasing. It wasn't until you received your acceptance letter to the college you would be attending with your friends that you thought you would finally be free from him. Haechan's parents had wanted him to go to a college that was 4 hours away from your hometown, and you counted down the days until graduation.

Luck was never on your side.

Due to Haecahan's tendency to put things off, he wasn't able to submit his application in time, and as the school was very competitive, the available spots quickly filled up. Luckily for him, your college had an extended application process, which allowed him to send it in late, and he was accepted. Now here you are two years into college, and Haechan is still insufferable.

You two were on two completely different career tracks, so your classes never overlapped, so at least you stopped fighting about grades. Being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore, anyway. You hated the pressure that your parents put on you growing up. Before, you would have had a heart attack if you saw a B, but now you just shrug them off. Even still, all you two do is just have petty arguments because that's all you have ever done.

“You would not be able to see an explosion in space; it's a vacuum; fire can't exist.”

"Well, I've seen Star Wars, so I think that proves my point.”

“That's Fiction! You know, like the idea of you having a brain,” you roll your eyes.

“Almost like your sense of humor? I was joking. Of course I know that I took astronomy before you," he smirks.

He was constantly trying to get under your skin. You take a long breath and try to calm yourself down. "Well, yeah, because I took a different science asshole." Your friends say it's because you always give him a reaction, but you hate being wrong. You had to get the last word, especially against know-it-alls like him.

Despite your complaints, he isn't entirely horrible. On the days that you two aren't arguing, he's making you laugh so hard that you practically fall over. He's not a complete jerk all the time; it's just that once you two get started, it's hard to stop.

“Oh please, can you two cut it out? You have either had too much alcohol or not enough if you can still think about arguing,” your friend Johnny slurs.

It's Saturday night, and you have just finished off an exhausting exam week. Your friends felt a celebration was in order to wind down from the trying week. Now the only thing trying was Haechan testing your patience. You're at Johnny's house, and everyone is spread out around his spacious living room, bottles of alcohol scattered several surfaces. Johnny’s family was well off, and he lived off campus in one of the few estates that his family owned. The house had two stories and a pool in the backyard. On the weekends, you would spend the most of your time here.

“You're right I came here to relax, not burst a blood vessel.” You sigh and take a seat next to Johnny on the couch. You take a couple sips from whichever unopened can of cheap alcohol is nearby. Even though you could already sense a buzz coming on, it needed to hit harder if you were going to have to deal with Haechan all night.

Hyuck chuckled and found a spot on the carpeted floor. "Sorry, the princess just seemed like her day was going too well; I had to ruin it a little," he said.

Your friend Yuna raised an eyebrow in his direction and smirked as she took another sip of her drink. “For you to hate her so much, you sure do spend a lot of time thinking about her.”

“One point Yuna, '' you smile at your friend's rebuttal. Arguing with Haechan could be tiring, but your roommate always had your back.

“I think you two just need to hug it out... in a room... alone,” your other friend Mark joked.

You dryly laugh, "So funny."

“You scared?” Hyuck says with a wicked grin. He leans back on one arm as he sips on his drink, still eyeing you confidently. It's at times like these that you betray yourself the most. He looks so good with his light brown hair framing his face; it's grown so long now that it covers his eyes if he doesn't push it back. The alcohol must be hitting because now all you can imagine is pulling on the soft brown locks and not out of anger. You must have taken too long to reply, because now he's raising an eyebrow at you.

“I wouldn't want to be alone with you even if you were the last person on earth."

Johnny cuts off Haechan's response before he can start. "Want to test that theory?"

Questions run through everyone's mind as you all turn to look at Johnny after his outburst.

“What, are you gonna kill us or something?” Haechan responds wearily.

"No, but I should, with the headache you have given me.”

“So…?” You urge him to continue.

"You two keep saying how much you can't stand each other, so how about we put that to the test?" Johnny closes with a sinister grin.

“I feel like you're gonna say something really stupid next." Mark comments

Johnny ushers your other friends into a huddle and tries his best to whisper in his drunken state.

"Guys, just hear me out? We can all feel the tension between these two. They clearly need to fuck or something, so how about we help them along so we don't have to deal with them trying to tear each other apart?”

“How would we do that?”

“We can hear you, and I am NOT fucking him."

“Oh come on, we see the way you two look at each other; you're both just too stubborn to realize it.”

"Hyuck, don't just sit there; help me out here!" you plead

“They have a point, though; you do want to fuck me,” he confidently adds.

"Please, you would be lucky enough if I poked you with a stick,” you say in distaste.

“Order! Order!” Johnny slurs, "Look, I have a way for you both to prove yourselves,” using his beer can as a makeshift gavel.

“Yeah, where were you even going with all of this? Man get to the point,” Mark mutters as he gets comfortable on the sofa.

“"What if you two take an aphrodisiac together and try not to touch each other? If you can last, then you two will win and show everyone how much you despise one another."

The room is silent when Johnny finishes pitching his idea. You think he definitely had one too many drinks tonight. What kind of plan was this? There was no way in hell you would go along with ANY of Johnny's half-baked ideas, but this one was especially crazy. You were just about to shoot down the idea when another voice interrupted you.

“I'm down. What? You can't stand the idea of keeping your hands off me?” Haechan grumbles upon seeing your reaction.

“what? I was just thinking this is stupid. What do I even get out of this? I don't care what you people think,” you huff.

“How about I give you each $500 if you win?”

“Do you-” you start.

“AND Mark does your homework for 2 weeks.”

“Hey! I didn't-” mark says

“AND Yuna does your share of the chores at your dorm.”

“WHA-!” yuna argues

"Deal," you quickly say before anyone can finish their complaints.

"Dude, this is not what we discussed,” Mark complains. Johnny whispers to him about something, and he perks up a little as Johnny makes him a promise. "Fine"

Johnny lays down the rules for you two. You and Haechan will both take an aphrodisiac pill and be restricted to the upstairs bedroom. You’ll have to stay in the room with each other for 3 hours, and if you two can withstand the 3 hours without touching each other, you win. If you lose, you both have agreed to play nice with each other or at least around other people.

As soon as you both take the pink pill, Johnny starts the timer. You make your way up the stairs to the bedroom, where you often crash on the weekends. This was definitely not how you thought you would be spending the weekend.

“We’ll come knocking when the time’s up! Yuna yells from downstairs.

You pout playfully and mock her from over the railing of the stairs. She was supposed to be the reasonable one.

“Oh real mature,” Haechan chuckles as he shuffles past you up the stairs. The staircase was really narrow, and you could practically feel his body heat against you as he went. The pills' effects haven't even fully settled in yet, and you're already feeling things you shouldn't. If you were planning on winning, you would have to get it together. Maybe this wasn't as easy as you thought.

As you make your way up the remaining stairs, you see Haechan standing by the door frame, waiting for you. He rolls his eyes. "You're stalling."

You murmur under your breath, "I'll literally give you my half of the money if you shut up for the next three hours," but drag yourself into the room nevertheless.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

The first 20 minutes aren't terrible. You guys make yourselves comfortable on opposite sides of the room and pick a random wall to stare at. As Haechan makes himself comfortable on the room's lone bed, you take a seat on a little bench that lines a sizable window. You're grateful he keeps his mouth shut. This was probably the longest you two have been in each other's presence without speaking.

It wasn't until about 30 minutes in that the effect hit you. Your breathing grew labored, and your blood started to flow through your veins more quickly. Your body started to heat up. To cool down, you placed your face on the window, breathing fogging the glass. When you looked up to see how Haechan was fairing, he was already looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes as his chest expanded with each deep inhale.

As much as he got on your last nerve, you had always thought he was attractive. His tan honey skin that glowed in the sunlight, his pretty moles that you would kill to kiss, and his gorgeous eyes that always made your heart beat just a little harder when he would glare at you whenever you hit a nerve. You loved seeing him worked up, but the few moments you got to see him when he was happy were moments you stored deep in the vault of your heart. You hated him; there was no time for admiring him.

You tried to shove those thoughts away, but It was as though all the thoughts you had been working so hard to suppress had suddenly surfaced. All you could think about was his plump lips and how they would feel on your body. How his fingers would feel encircling your throat, pressing the chilly rings that decorated his hands against your skin. His golden locks flowing through your fingers as you hold him close. You couldn't resist licking your lips at the idea.

“Don't fucking do that,” he abruptly spoke. He closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath. He spreads his legs further, trying to get comfortable in his spot across the room.

You try to fight the urge, but your eyes travel down his body to the bulge in his sweats. You immediately cross your legs at the sight. You had to clutch onto the pillows of the seat you were in; otherwise, you don't think you could stop yourself from crossing the room in a heartbeat.

“What? Can't handle it hyuckie?” You coo at him, using the old nickname you haven't called him since middle school. You had to find some ground in this setting. You couldn't let him see how weak he was making you.

"Out of all the times you pick to be a brat, now is not the time," he grumbles mockingly.

“Why? Am I getting on your nerves? Hmm, I could only wonder what that must feel like,” you sneered. You were so horny, it's pissing you off. You decide Haechan can use a taste of his own medicine, and what better way to blow off steam than to get under his skin?

“Maybe they were right. Maybe you do need a good fuck for you to lose the attitude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

"Careful," he smirks, licking his lips.

You know that look; he's testing you. He's daring you to say something else.

"That's what I thought," he says, closing his eyes and attempting to control his breathing.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

You're about an hour in, and you can't take it any longer; you're practically rutting against the seam of your jeans, hoping for some kind of friction.

"Please, I can't do this anymore," you cry out for air. You turn to face him, but he doesn't answer. His eyes are closed, and his brows are drawn together as if he's in pain.

“Haechan!” You scream again; this time he slowly opens his eyes, and you suck in a breath as your eyes meet. His pupils were completely blown as sweat pricked his brow.

“Are you giving up?"

You nod in response.

“That's too bad; I still want to win,” he smirks lazily.

"Let's just forfeit; this is stupid!” You stand from where you were seated and head to the door. This prompts Haechan to finally move from his spot as he uses his long legs to cross the room in three wide strides. Before you can open the door, he stops you. For the first time since you two entered the room, he touches you. While keeping his body an arms' length away from you, he is shoving you up against the door by your shoulders. Your body is on fire at the mere touch, and you're grateful for the little bit of space he has given you.

“Calm down. Think this through,” he huffs as if out of breath. “just-just think of the money.”

“I don't care about this stupid bet! I feel like I'm going to explode,” you cry, fighting to escape his hold, but he just pins you back against the door.

“How about I take care of it then? Hmm?” He begs, never breaking eye contact. “I'll take the pain away, baby. Just work with me, yeah?"

"That defeats the point Haechan; we aren't supposed to touch each other; I thought you were smarter than that," you protest, growing increasingly frustrated.

“As long as you keep those gorgeous lips shut, nobody would ever know.” He slowly closes in on you as he speaks. “I help you out, and when we get out of this room, we pretend like nothing happened, and that we still can't stand each other, deal?” He's a breath away. The close proximity, the way he's practically breathing down your neck, and the look in his eyes that tells you he is only about 2 seconds away from devouring you were all you needed to go along with Haechan's scheme.

You stopped listening about halfway through anyway so you nodded mindlessly before closing the remaining space between the two of you. You're pushing off the door and pressing your body against his as you guide him towards the bed. Even though you can both feel your lungs starting to burn, neither of you has the strength to break the kiss. When his legs met the edge of the bed, he sat, giving you both time to regain your breath. He's resting back against his hands, looking up at you, and his legs are spread wide as if he were offering himself to you.

"Come on princess, take whatever you want from me," he smirks as you get into his lap and nestle down against the tent in his pants. You push him until his back is flush against the mattress, then mindlessly grind down on him. You use his chest to steady yourself as you throw your head back and drown in the feeling. You feel Haechan's hands gripping your waist and then traveling up your torso. His hands explored your body as you got lost in each other. Haechan sits up to meet your lips in another passionate kiss. As he deepens the kiss, he clutches your waist tightly to restrict your movements. You whine at the lack of stimulation, but all he can do is smile against your lips in return.

“Be patient baby; let me love on you.”

“This…was…not…a part of…the deal,” you try to finish as he lovingly pecks your lips.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your voice down? Shut up,” he says, ignoring your insistent whining, lavishing your face and neck in wet kisses. Any “loving” he was going to give vanished at your bratty behavior.

“Stop teasing, hyuck seriously. I think I'm going insane.”

You were on the verge of tears at this point; you needed him to give you some type of relief. That's exactly how he wanted you—desperate and needy—not like you already weren't, but he liked to push you to your limits.

“Lay down for me,” he says, releasing his grip on your hips and patting your thigh to signal you to get up. You swiftly move to lay on the bed, and you watch him as he pulls his shirt over his head and takes off his sweatpants, leaving him only in his underwear. He climbs the bed and helps you remove your jeans. As he's tugging the material down your thick thighs, you remove your shirt and bra. He settles between your legs, and you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist. He has to press his palm down against your lower stomach to stop you from grinding against him again.

"You promise to behave?" He prys your legs free from his waist, trapping them against your chest and restricting your movement.

You nod mindlessly, reaching out to grab him and trying to draw him into another kiss, but he pins your hands above your head, using his hips instead to further pin you down.

"Uh-uh princess, use your words," he adds coldly.

“Please hyuck, I promise I'll be good.”

“You going to be a good girl and keep that mouth shut?”

You were exhausted from having to use your brain to come up with a coherent response; you were at your limit. All you could think about was him filling you up, and every second he didn't, it felt like a year of your life span was shaved off. You did cry this time. You were so frustrated with him; he did this all the time. He never plays nice; he always makes you work for it.

"Oh you poor baby," he coos lovingly as he kisses your eyelids and wipes away your tears. "I'm sorry, but I have to hear you say it," he continues.

"I promise to be your good girl; I swear I won't make a sound, please," you sniffle, trying to hold back your tears.

“If I hear one sound, I'm stopping, and you can walk out of this room and finish yourself off, got it?”

You've learned to respond quickly when he asks you a question, so you nod your head with a "yes sir."

This makes Haechan smile wickedly. Who would have guessed that the same brat who walked into the room with him no less than an hour ago could be so obedient? He was definitely never letting you live this down when this was over. He finally decides to take pity on you, kisses down your body, and removes your panties. He threw your legs over his shoulders, and a quick kiss to your inner thigh was all the warning you got before he nuzzled his nose up against your clit as he licked into your entrance. He savored the taste with his tongue before licking up to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. The sounds his mouth made as he devoured you were wet and noisy as he slurped away at your essence.

You were fighting for your life above him. Reaching for a pillow that was just almost out of reach, you used it to smother your sounds. A sharp slap on your outer thigh served as a warning to keep your voice down. It was the only warning you were going to get. Soon the pillow is long forgotten as you gasp for air. Your thighs began to shake as you choked on your moans. Your back arches, and you can feel your eyes begin to roll. You were going to come, and you would have welcomed it with open arms any other time, but you knew how loud you could get. He was not letting up, and you knew if you came like this, you wouldn't be able to hold back the scream that's been dying to echo against the walls.

You try your best to fight it off. You frantically push at his head, begging him with your eyes as you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to bite back moans. He shakes his head no, but the movement simply adds to the pleasure, and you're about to lose it. You try to get away from his mouth by shifting up the bed, but his powerful arms wrap around your thighs and pull you back down onto his mouth.

"Hae-" His look silences you, and your mouth hangs wide in a silent cry as you spasm on his tongue. It was the most intense orgasm you'd ever felt. Once he helps you ride out the wave, he kisses your pussy one more time before pulling away. As soon as he does, you snap your legs shut, still reeling from the orgasm. His face was practically dripping as he stared you down, hungry.

"Better?" he asks, brushing the back of his palm across his face.

"Mhm,” you reply, causing him to raise a brow, "better,” you quickly follow, using your voice.

Your eyes travel down his body until they reach what you’ve been craving for the most. Haechan was harder than you thought could even be possible. His tip was a furious shade of crimson, gleaming in precum. 

"One more baby," he strokes his length before hissing and gripping the base. "Just be my good girl one more time," he begs.

You almost feel bad. The whole time he was teasing you, he was also teasing himself. You're amazed he's maintained this level of self-control up to this point.

“I don't know if I can keep quiet if we continue,” you plead.

“Open your mouth” is all he says as he prys your legs open and settles between them.

You comply, and Haechan shoves your panties into your mouth. You try to object, but he covers your mouth with his palm for added security.

"My turn," he grins before bottoming out inside you. The first few strokes are so deep, you can practically feel him in your stomach. He's trying to keep control; he's trying to be gentle with you because he knows how sensitive you are, but he's slowly losing it. He's going to use you like a doll. His thrusts pick up pace, and all you can hear in the room is skin slapping against skin unforgivingly. The hand around your mouth clamps down harder as he buries his head into your neck.

“Im sorry... fuck” was all you got as he hiked your leg up higher on his waist, trying to hit deeper. His hot breath fanning across your neck and the soft staccato groans he lets out are the only indications that he is close. Your head is in the clouds, and you can't think straight. You barely register the fact that you came again until he bites at your neck to muffle his deep groan at the feeling of your walls tightening down on him. Next thing you know, he's snapped.

He quickly sits up, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he drives his hips down into you, practically fucking you into the mattress until his hips are stuttering. He pulls the panties from your mouth to kiss you in the hopes of drowning out his own sounds of pleasure. His kiss is messy. It's nothing but tongue and teeth as his thrusts grow slopy. He's practically whimpering into your mouth when he cums.He rides out his high before pulling away from your lips. All you can do is stare at each other as you catch your breath. There is a brief moment of silence before you both burst out laughing. He collapses next to you and pulls you close.

“You think they heard that?” he asks, panting.

"Oh, we definitely heard everything." A muffled voice can be heard through the door, and you assume it's Yunas.

You're too sleepy to feel embarrassed as your eyelids begin to droop.

"Don't worry, you two; we'll say you won as long as you don't try to kill each other again." Johnny's muffled voice can be heard next.

"I don't think she'll be able to do much for a while," Haechan muffles. Speaking to your sleeping form more than anyone else.

"I'll get the plan B girl. I gotchu," Yuna voice fades as she walks down the hallway.

She was definitely gonna grill you for the details. She always wanted a run-down play by play of everything that happened.

Soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep in haechans warm embrace.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Johnny would call his mission a success. You two stopped arguing for the most part, and the group was able to enjoy more peaceful outings without the two of you turning every conversation into a debate. Your friends were fond of your bickering, but at times it could get to be too much. But now that your relationship with Haechan has blossomed into a….situationship? They were running into another problem.

You two fuck like rabbits.

No matter where you were, you two were slipping off to do who knows what or being all touchy-feely with each other, and your friends didn't want to see or hear any of it. But because you two seemed happier, they learned to cope with it. Yuna bought new noise-canceling headphones to use whenever Haechan would spend the night at your dorm. Johnny upgraded the speakers in the house so that when he had a party and you two snuck away, the music could blast louder to drown out your noises. Mark downloaded more mobile games on his phones to ignore you two when you would get all lovey during movie nights.

Haechan still picked on you, but he saved it more for the bedroom, and you still tried to test his patience any chance you got. You didn't know what you two had, but you didn't mind enjoying it while it lasted or even furthering it. You learned a lot more about Haechan and discovered that you two had more in common than you believed. You also learned he could be a real sweetheart sometimes. Maybe your friends were right all along, and maybe Johnny isn't as crazy as you thought. Maybe you didn't have to be better than Haechan all along.

Rushed ending opps

[artdnldsn]

gestalt therapy

college professor!art donaldson x fem reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, swearing, student!reader, age gap, porn w/ a little plot, head (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight degradation (question mark?), one mention of "daddy"

synopsis: you're done with your senior year at college, and all you want is a parting gift.

a/n: my first full fic here wow my first ever smut WOW the only thing that's not a first here is english because it's my second language so be patient pookies. college prof au has been haunting me for days so i needed to get it out. even though i have no fucking idea how colleges work in the us ;) hope you like it! happy reading

The first thing he notices about you is how ridiculously smart you are.

It's not even a stretch or him trying to justify the instant attraction he feels towards you. No, you're genuinely, undeniably brilliant, especially for your age. You've got this way with words, and concepts come to you so easily. You pick up on all his lead-ups to lecture topics, knowing exactly what the main conversation will be about a good five minutes before the rest of the class. You smile smugly, crossing your arms and leaning back, your eyes seeking his because you want him to know that you know.

And honestly, he'd be mad at you for being so smug if you weren't so damn smart.

The way you walk up to him after class to discuss your latest essay, your stance confident and voice sure, as you argue over why you deserved a 100 and not a 98. He's looking at your essay, then at you, then back at his computer screen, squinting just to appear like he's thinking it over, but he knows you're right; of course you are. Your essay is perfect. He was just being a dick about it, nitpicking because he couldn't admit you're basically flawless.

He's getting self-conscious about his teaching. There's nothing he can teach you—you come so prepared for every class that he wonders if you even have a life outside his classroom. Maybe your brain just works like that, but a small, selfish part of him hopes you spend hours prepping for his classes. The thought that you do it for him and not the subject is a nice one, but he shoves it away.

At least that way, it wouldn't be as pathetic for him to spend nights rewriting his lectures, perfecting his presentations to the point where he's sitting in his bed at 3 AM, pondering whether Times New Roman or Arial would make his point come across better.

He's always been a perfectionist, living by the book, striving not for greatness but for the reserved maximum of his natural capabilities. He never really pushed himself. But you—oh, fuck, you. Fuck you. You make him want to lose sleep just to prove to you or himself that he's certainly smarter than some college senior.

He calls you a lot of things in his head. A know-it-all, an "excuse me" because you're always "excuse me"-ing him like he doesn't have a name, a smartass, a bitch—he hates when he's in a mood like this last one because it signals it's time to sleep. You're a lot of things, but you're not stupid.

In fact, he starts wondering if you're a once-in-a-lifetime talent. Because he's rather young for a professor, he hasn't seen as many students as his colleagues, who always crack up anecdotes about past students, someone who graduated 15, 30 years ago, but the older professors still remember them. He wonders if he's going to remember you like that. He's pretty sure he will.

He's never even thought about you as a woman and not just his student. He's just respectful like that. Sure, you were hot, which only added to your confident allure. He's not blind—hell, he'd admit it if he had to—but he's never thought about you like that.

But apparently, you have about him.

You appear at his office doorstep minutes before he's about to clock out for the night. You're looking pristine as always, and with your silhouette illuminated by the office's dim lights, he wonders for a second if you're even human with your endless drive, brilliant mind, and hair that always looks like it's animated because it's impossible for real human hair to flow that perfectly.

"Good evening," he greets you, eyebrows creasing slightly in confusion. You've never visited, your final grades are in, and you're graduating in a week. He's already said his goodbyes to your class, and when he did, you shot him a little smile that he read as everything being good between you. What are you doing here then? "Can I help—"

“Are you impotent?” you cut him off, arms crossed, a challenging look in your eyes.

He actually chokes on air. “E-excuse me?” he mutters under his breath, his expression shocked, his voice strained. God, he’s ridiculed you for years in his head for addressing him like that, and here he is now.

You turn your back to him, lock the door, and make your way to his desk in confident steps. You sit on the edge of his desk, looking at him over your shoulder. "I asked if you're impotent," you shrug, arching your eyebrow.

“No,” he blurts out, his expression still one of pure horror as he doesn’t know where to keep his gaze, his eyes darting between the papers on his desk, and his computer screen, and his hands, anywhere but you. “God, no.”

“Why you never fucked me, then?” you ask, your tone still almost accusatory, but your voice soft. It’s almost like there is a hint of genuine regret in your words, and he doubts his sanity right now, wonders if he’s imagining things. He pinches his thigh under the desk, just to make sure.

“What do you mean, why?” he stutters, his cheeks flushed. “B-because.” Oh, God, it’s really bad. He’s really speechless, his mind unable to conjure up a full sentence. “Because you’re my student, and I respect you, and there are boundaries that shouldn’t be—“

“I’m not your student anymore. Not technically.” Your tone is matter-of-fact, one he’s too familiar with. One you’ve used to tell him about all the typos in his handouts, all the mistakes in his tests, all the times he’s fucked up grading someone’s papers. Only now you’re telling him… Fuck, he really can’t grasp what it is you’re telling him.

“I can’t argue with that, but I really don’t understand the point of this conversation. You’re completely out of—“

“Consider it gestalt therapy,” you shrug nonchalantly. He’s getting mad, really, with you cutting him off like that, like you’re getting back at him for years of having to listen to his lectures without having an opportunity to talk over him. It takes him a second to grasp what you’re implying. He clears his throat.

You sigh, letting your arms drop to your sides, sliding off the desk, walking up to him in these fucking deliberate strides, spinning him in his chair so he faces you, his hands lifted up in the air as if he is surrendering. He doesn’t know to what, exactly.

“Just really have to get this out of my system, Mr. Donaldson,” you sigh almost guilty, your gaze landing on his lap. He's hard, his cock straining the fabric of his trousers. Of course he is, what the fuck?

You cup him, eliciting a soft sigh from his lips, his eyes falling shut. You start stroking him through the fabric, confidently like everything you do. It makes his blood boil. You’re such a bitch. A know-it-all. A smart-ass. And so, so hot that he can’t bring himself not to kinda wish you’re intending to fuck his brains out.

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe a weak protest to give you a final out, but you lean down, pressing your lips to his in a languid, deep kiss, a thorough exploratory one like every single one of your fucking essays has ever been.

You move to his lap, straddling him, the chair creaking under your combined weight. Only when his hands move to your hips does he understand you’re wearing a skirt. God, he hasn’t even noticed that. He lets his hands stay there, caressing your bare thighs as your skirt rides up, and you lean in for another kiss.

There's no raw hunger. If anything, he’s sure he’s incapable of it in this situation, his mind still trying to catch up, trying to relabel you as not forbidden. You’re grinding against his growing erection, tugging at his hair as you deepen the kiss, your curves so unexpectedly perfect against him.

He only realizes you’re working on his belt and zipper when he hears them. Instinctively, he moves his hands to your wrists to stop you, but you just shake them away like you’ve shrugged him off all these years. He gasps into your mouth as you wrap your hand around his freed cock, stroking the length expertly, thoroughly, meticulously, as your lips never leave his. He actually relaxes into the chair, his hands gripping your waist, tugging your top up to reveal more bare skin.

No bra. Of course you didn’t wear any. You’ve come prepared as always.

You chuckle quietly, your lips continuing to move in unison with his, finding a lazy rhythm that drives you both insane. He reads this chuckle as you being amused at him taking any initiative. It makes his blood boil.

He breaks the kiss, one hand squeezing your breast firmly as he leans down, capturing your left nipple between his lips, sucking gently before biting. His other hand lands on your ass with a loud smack, making you gasp. Finally, some reaction.

He starts bucking into your hand, seeking more friction, moving his mouth to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, leaving a bite mark on the side, making you wince but moan. That moan—fuck, that beautiful sound. Now he’s angrier at himself than you are at him for not having fucked you sooner.

He understands you were expecting to ride him, like he’s some sexless creature, a toy to use, a dick attached to a fantasy that has nothing to do with the man he is, and it makes him even madder. He’s always admired your insightfulness, your capability to get right to the gist of things through walls of useless shit, but he’s feeling his respect for you slipping as he understands just how wrong you must’ve been about him in your head.

He peels himself off your chest, lips glistening with saliva, smacking your ass again, harder this time, groping both cheeks as he lifts you off his lap to sit you on his desk over the papers he’s grading. He’ll just tell everyone he spilled a drink. No one will miss them.

His lips find yours again in a searing hot kiss. It’s messy, all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s not. Of course not. It’s just that something dormant is being woken up in him. You whimper as he cups your mound through your panties, making him chuckle. Well, look who’s laughing now.

"You've seriously dreamt about this?" he whispers against your jaw, his long fingers sliding into your underwear, finding your slickness. Fuck, you're so wet for him, it almost makes him black out. "Wanted me to fuck you on this desk? Or the one in the classroom? Or in the library? Or right in the fucking hall, huh? Why not? Let everyone watch." His tone is almost taunting, his every word accompanied by a painfully slow and teasing circle of his thumb over your swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes," you mutter, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressing against his shoulder, hips bucking helplessly into his hand, seeking friction. It’s not clear if you’re answering his questions or begging him to go faster. It doesn’t matter; his smirk is already in place, his eyes glistening with amusement as he looks down at you, breathing hard through his nose.

"Yes, what?" he chuckles, shrugging, his eyes scanning every reaction on your face. The way your head falls back, your lower lip caught between your teeth, your cheeks flushed. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, what?" he murmurs softly, his hand in your panties slowing down to the point of stopping.

A groan of disappointment escapes your lips as you snap your head back up, eyes darting open. He can see your pupils blown wide even in the dim light, the lamp on his desk illuminating you from behind like a renaissance painting. "Yes, fuck me," you say dryly, like it’s obvious, still seeing him as some pathetic, stupid nobody, but you’re slightly out of breath when you say it, so that’s a win in his book for now.

Just means he’s gotta try harder.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place. He’s standing between your legs, keeping them spread wide for him. He pulls his hand out of your panties to bring it to your face, shoving two fingers into your pretty smartass mouth. Your eyebrows crease, eyes falling shut at the action, a hum leaving your lips, vibrating through his skin, but you still suck on them obediently, tasting yourself on his fingers and coating them in your saliva.

He slips one finger right inside you when it makes its way back down. He starts thrusting it into you at a steady rhythm, his lips finding your neck, nibbling on it, his teeth grazing your delicate skin, tongue sliding over the little marks his teeth leave there, as he curls his finger inside you, thrusting deeper, deeper, almost aggressively.

"God, I really thought you were smart," he mutters under his breath, hot against your skin as he adds another finger and starts stretching you, eliciting a soft moan from you. He leans down, sucking on your tits again, noticing how hard your nipples are now, almost painfully so, matching the way his dick is rock hard, still standing at full attention against his clothed abdomen. "Thought you were different. Hard-working. Proper." He sinks onto his knees in front of you, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes you can’t quite read. "Turns out you’re just a slut."

He tugs your panties down, his tongue finding your cunt, one of his hands moving to throw your leg over his shoulder, keeping it there tightly as the fingers of his other hand re-enter your cunt, starting to finger it at the same urgent pace, his tongue moving feverishly over your clit, making you moan quietly because, yes, there are still people in the building, you have to keep quiet, but a part of him, the one you’ve awoken, wishes the circumstances were different, that he could hear you scream for him.

He’s getting high off the taste of your juices, off the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils, his nose pressed into your pelvis as he fucks you with his fingers in a relentless rhythm, curling his fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench down onto him, searching for that sweet spot that’s going to make your toes curl.

“Tell me,” he rasps out, pulling away from your cunt just for enough time to say what he needs to say, peppering your inner thigh with kisses in the meantime. “Tell me exactly how long you’ve wanted this. And how you wanted me to fuck you. Leave no details out.”

You whimper when he delves back onto your clit, sucking on it, not caring to keep his teeth from grazing your sensitive skin here and there, but it’s a good feeling.

“S-since that lecture. Sophomore year,” you breathe out, you throat tight from holding back so many moans that are begging to be let out. Your mouth falls open in a silent ‘oh’ as he sucks your whole clit in, lapping at it with his tongue inside his wet hot mouth, your hand snapping instinctively onto his head, gripping his hair to pin yourself down to the reality. “You wore that slutty turtleneck, and of course I’ve thought you’re hot, but then you had one wrong date in your presentation, and I got so fucking mad at you. Thought you’re too careless to teach.”

He hums against your cunt, encouraging you to go on, or agreeing with your point, he can’t tell himself anymore. He’s completely gone at this point, drinking your juices like he’s drinking in your words. Amidst all this, he actually appreciates you not calling him stupid. You might’ve, but you didn’t.

“And you were always s-so passive, like I tried arguing with you, reading all that shit instead of going out just to get a rile out of you, and you never fucking bucked. I-I-I—“ you stutter, your mind going into overdrive for a second as he continues abusing your g-spot, his fingers moving at a frantic speed in and out, in and out. He smacks your thigh to get your attention back on the topic. “I just couldn’t fucking believe you. I was being a bitch, I was nagging you, just because. And you didn’t even care.”

He smiles into your cunt, a huff of air leaving his nose. At last, you admit it. He suddenly doesn’t feel bad at all for calling you a bitch in his head. He can feel your walls contracting around his fingers, your breathing irregular, you’re practically panting, your grip in his hair tightening as you guide him closer, rolling your hips against his tongue and fingers, seeking release. You’re close.

He pulls away, earning another cuss and another groan of disappointment off your lips. He smacks your thigh again, hard, the action leaving a red print of his big palm on your skin. “You didn’t answer,” he rasps out, delving back into you. Fucking students, he thinks to himself. Always so smart, thinking they know it all, and always forgetting to answer the second part of the question after they’re done answering the first.

Your mind is so hazy at this point, it takes you an effort to rewind the interaction in your head to understand what he means. “L-like this,” you whimper, your thighs trembling as he grips the one that’s not on his shoulder to stop it from shaking too much, keeping you in place. “I-I didn’t want you to be nice. You’re always so fucking nice, it’s not human, I knew it wasn’t true.”

He’s too set on making you cum to chuckle now, although it is pretty funny. He’s been doubting you’re human, too, but the way you gasp for air, trying desperately to hold back your moans as he feels you coming closer and closer to release, it tells him all that he needs to know. You’re just flesh and bones, not the perfect genius he’s painted you to be in his mind.

“Fuck!” you whimper, giving his hair one last tug before your hand springs up to cover your mouth, biting into your index finger to keep yourself quiet. It takes one slide of his fingers, one roll of his tongue, five seconds, and your muscles go taught as your hips buck off the desk, his pens in the glass standing on the edge of it clattering against each other, the keyboard of his computer flying up for a split second from impact of your ass slamming back down onto the desk. It’s like a mini-earthquake, that’s left your world erupt into white behind your closed eyelids.

He fingers you through it, lapping his tongue over your clit until you wince quietly from it hurting, and he pulls away reluctantly, standing up from the floor to stand in between your legs again. His neck and back hurt like hell from crouching down on the floor for so long, his muscles are not what they used to be, after all, and for a split second he considers actually giving up and letting you ride him, but it would be your win in his book, and he can’t allow that.

He spits on his hand before he leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding back into your mouth, letting you taste yourself once again, as he brings his hand down to stroke himself, breathing softly out of his nose at the relief of some friction, finally. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he murmurs into your lips, softly, almost lovingly, the same fucking slightly condescending tone he’s always used in his classroom.

You open your mouth to ask what the fuck he means, but he pushes his tongue back into your mouth, all thoughts of a protest evaporating from your mind. You slide closer to the edge of the desk instinctively to accommodate him when he eventually pushes into you. You almost can’t wait.

He gropes your ass to position you like he wants you, his fingers digging into your plump skin maybe a little too hard. You don’t protest. He breathes heavily, like it’s physically paining him to hold back any second longer — it does,—and his brows are furrowed in concentration while he slides his tip over your clit, coating it with your slickness, the same way he frowns when he’s grading papers or goes over tomorrow’s lecture in his head.

He pushes inside in one determined thrust, piercing through you, a quiet grunt escaping his lips, a soft moan escaping yours. Before you have any time to adjust, he starts pounding his hips into yours, one of his arms hooked around your torso to keep you in place as his free hand flies to your chest, squeezing your right tit roughly, pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, making it harden again.

“Careless?” he scoffs, an expression of pure disbelief on his face at the fact you’ve even dared to say that. He grunts again, his hand falling from your breast to your hip, gripping it firmly as he continues pounding into you, your breathing quickening again. He’s rather big, and it hurts a little from you still being sore from your orgasm, but you still moan softly under your nose, your wrists hurting from you leaning on the desk behind your back for so long.

“You call me careless for a typo in a presentation I made six years ago, and it’s not careless for you to come here, asking me if I’m impotent? Fuck you,” he grunts again, a grin pulling on his lips as he throws his head back, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. You’re squeezing his cock so tightly, there’s no way in hell you’re ever going to be asking him or yourself that question again.

He lets go of you, reaching behind your back to pull on your wrists, tugging them further to himself, which makes you fall back on the desk. “Fuck you,” he repeats, his words almost sounding like a moan now as he holds your wrists near your stomach, basically transfixing you. He moves one of his hands up to throw your leg over his shoulder again, another continuing holding your wrists down, as you both groan quietly at the change of the angle, the new one allowing for him to go so deep he’s touching parts of you you didn’t know existed.

“So, you wanted me to be a good teacher and a good dick all at the same time?” he muses, a smirk pulling on his lips again as he looks down onto your dishevelled form, your tits bouncing out of your tugged-down top, you skirt ridden up to your waist, your fucking face, so unbearably beautiful, flushed and your lips swollen from his kisses and from you biting on them so much. He can’t fucking get enough of how silent you are now after running your mouth at him for all these years. “Did you want me to be your boyfriend, too?” he chuckles, shaking his head, his expression faltering as he picks up the rhythm for a good minute, pounding into you so hard all the items on the desk are clattering, and you have to bite on your lips again not to scream from him practically tearing you apart, because you can’t cover your mouth anymore with your wrists held by him.

“Daddy never loved you, right?” He understands he’s probably taunting you too much, his words almost feeling cruel, but he’s too far gone at this point, he’s making a forceful effort to continue looking down at you to imprint the way you look right now into his memory to revisit later, even though his eyes are almost rolling back from just how good your cunt takes him. “That’s why you’ve been pining for my dick for fucking three years? Are you getting what you wanted?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper weakly. Yes to all that, actually, but he doesn’t need to know that. He feels too good, filling you up to the brim, you can almost feel him in your guts, he’s making your toes curl. And he’s finally not acting nice. Just like you wanted him to.

“Good,” he growls, letting go of you for a second before his hands find the undersides of your knees, bringing them close to your chest, changing the angle again as he starts hammering down into you, the room filled with the sound of your shared ragged breaths, the desk creaking under you and the sound of his pelvis slapping against yours. “Fu-uck, you’re taking me so good, none of your schoolwork was ever that good,” he’s lying through his teeth. Not about the sex — you’re taking it like a champ—but about your schoolwork. It was, indeed, that good.

He basically has no power left over what words leave his mouth, he’s completely drunk on you, the taste of your cunt and your mouth still lingering on his tongue. “Are you gonna come again?” he pants out, slowing down, feeling your walls clenching down on him, squeezing him tight.

“Y-yeah,” you mutter, fluttering your eyes open to look at him from under your eyelashes, but you can pretty much only make out his silhouette with how hazy your vision has become with just how good he’s fucking you. “I knew,” you repeat, your throat feeling tight again, your head falling back on the desk as you bring your now free hands to your mouth, covering it to muffle out the scream you know is there, brewing, destined to roll of your lips when he drives you to release again.

“You—“ he starts in disbelief, but he’s getting closer, too, there’s no point in arguing now. He just can’t fucking believe the nerve on you. What do you mean, you knew? Knew he could fuck you like you wanted to? Knew you would be walking out of here with a limp? Such a know-it-all, always thinking she’s two steps ahead everybody else.

He sighs shakily, a broken, needy sound as he brings his hand in between your legs, finding your clit again, his other hand still holding your knees pressed to your chest. He rubs at you in sync with the thrusts of his hips, his pace picking up, up, and up, until he finally lets out a low grunt, stilling, slipping out of you as he watches you bite on your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks as he feels your pussy convulsing under his fingers, another orgasm hitting you, and in a matter of seconds, after a few fast strokes, he comes, too, thick ropes of his seed landing all over your stomach and knees, and some of it lands on your chin.

For a few seconds, he just stands there, catching his breath, watching over you. He opens his desk drawer, pulls out a tissue pack, and wipes himself before doing the same for you. You're still lying there, face hidden in your hands, your outfit a mess. He's already caught you crying and knows you might feel awkward doing it in front of him, so he just makes sure you're clean for when you leave.

He tucks himself back into his trousers, fastens his belt, and walks to the other side of his office. You hear him rustling around while you try to get your breath back and keep your emotions in check. His soft footsteps approach the desk again, and you feel him gently patting your knee. You open your eyes to see him holding out a cup of water—a peace offering or an apology. But you know he doesn't owe you either. He just gave you everything you've wanted for the last three years. And he even brought you fucking water. Because he's disgustingly nice like that.

You nod in gratitude, sit up, and take the plastic cup from his hand, downing it in one gulp. It actually brings some life back to you. You breathe out shakily, fix your top, and tuck your tits back in before sliding off the desk. Your shoes land softly on the floor, your legs still trembling, your knees feeling like they'll give out any moment. You tug your skirt down and sheepishly meet his gaze, unsure where to go from here.

He steps closer and brings his hands up to your face to fix your hair. His eyebrows furrow in concentration again as he smooths it down, making sure you don't look disheveled when you walk out of here.

He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides, and keeps looking at your face as if making sure you're not just looking okay but are okay too. “I didn’t mean that. The ‘fuck you’. And the ‘slut’ comment. Well, I kinda did,” he shrugs, averting his gaze with a humorless chuckle, “but I didn’t.”

You punch the air out of his lungs as you pounce on him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. It takes him a second to gather himself, but he hesitantly hugs you back, just letting his hands rest on your lower back as you nuzzle your nose into his chest.

You had to get it out of your system, but now that it's in, you feel like you’ll never get enough. He feels like a beacon, one he's always been for you. The guy you picked a rivalry with your first week of sophomore year just to push yourself harder, to strive for greatness. He wasn’t even aware there was a rivalry to begin with. He's an academic, though, they’re all fucked up in the head, he must understand a part of it, at least.

And he understands. Truly. He just hopes you won’t start crying again, because he doesn’t know how he'd handle that. He pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes, cupping your face in his hands, and plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You’re a smart girl,” he says, his voice low, the small, friendly smile on his lips sincere, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he looks down at you. “You’ll figure it out. I don’t doubt it.”

He had this whole speech prepared for the class about how adult life is going to treat them, the challenges they'll face, how scary it’ll be, but also insanely rewarding. It was long, sentimental, with a few jokes thrown in. Some girls cried, but it was all bullshit. What’s real is this. Him understanding your fears without you having to voice them. Him telling you you’ve got this.

“And until you do, you always know where to find me,” he nods to the side, obviously meaning his office, a lopsided smirk making him look a good decade younger. His gaze finds yours again, and he pulls you into another tight hug, one he initiates this time.

In his mind, he’s already thinking how long it would be appropriate to wait before he can invite you for a coffee.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Hi Skyen, hope you're well! I'm seeking some advice and since you used to work doing mainly art commissions I figured asking you was worth a shot.

I'm a furry artist and I'm looking into doing commission work as a side gig while I finish animation college, and hopefully acquire enough experience/clients/notoriety to turn it into a full time job once I graduate.

Do you have any advice for someone literally just starting out with fresh accounts and zero following? Especially when it comes to reaching people and getting your first clients, and anything that one should take into account when working with NSFW specifically. Also advice for pricing your work is always useful 😅

No need to answer obvs but I'd appreciate your viewpoint if you want to share!

Got 2 asks on this exact subject so I'll write up what advice I can. One big caveat: I haven't worked as a commission artist for like half a decade at this point, and this job has a tendency to change fast, do not take anything I say as gospel. This is advice from a limited perspective, be critical of what I say and trust your peers and the people you are in community with before you trust me.

building audience

Step one is getting people to notice the artwork you create. Literally nothing else can happen until you have eyeballs on your work, and the most consistent and reliable way to make that happen is fanart. Ideally you'd want to produce fanart in a fandom you are personally engaged with and passionate about and familiar with, and which also has a sizeable community whose attention can help you build recognition and a base of followers.

This isn't always possible, and there's many a working artist who creates work for fandoms not out of deep personal connection, but because the fandom is large and relevant and a good way to capture the goodwill of algorithms and content feeds.

This approach has some downsides. For one, genuine fans can usually tell when someone's engagement with Their Thing is shallow, and for another it can be deeply creatively exhausting to chase the algorithm. I don't recommend this approach, but it is a valid means of building a business.

Another important consideration, especially when you are early in your career, is that volume tends to trump quality. Every artist will eventually learn that their shitty joke-doodle they sh*t out in ten minutes on a whim will get a billion reposts, and their complex personal work that took eight weeks to finish gets 2 likes from their closest mutuals and a comment from a bot saying "wow!"

In the age of the algorithm, what machines and for you pages value is a consistent, high-volume of output that generates user engagement. You will generally get further, faster, by producing a lot of work than you will producing great work. Again, this can be rough on your mental state, and a fast way to burn the fuck out, so please be careful and mind your health before all else.

The best way to build something that will last is to build your audience in communities and around fandoms and themes and ideas you genuinely care about and enjoy exploring and interacting with. Being your authentic self and creating work from your authentic interest is generally both healthier and long-term better for your career than trend-chasing. Treat trend-chasing and volume > quality output as tools in your toolbox, as creative and business decisions you can make to achieve a specific purpose, never ever EVER let them become the center of your praxis or your philosophy. Never ever EVER allow the Numbers™ to be your source of validation and accomplishment.

building business

Ok, so you've got eyes on your work. You've got some followers. How the hell do you get them to commission you?

Well, again, by demonstrating a capacity to create kinds of art for which there is demand. In the furry community, there's brisk trade in things like ref sheets and character design, for example. For most fandoms, ship art is a product which tends to be in demand. Being able to do really good expression sheets is a marketable skill. Being able to create compelling and clear emotes for streamers and creators is a marketable skill.

Showing the capacity to work in a wide range of styles is valuable. Showing the capacity to work in a wide range of genres is valuable. If you can do both comedy and romance your appeal expands. If you can do shonen-like action and angst as well, it expands again.

Equally, being incredibly good at a specific niche is valuable as well. Focusing hard on an under-served niche of work can give you a lot of opportunities to be the Go To person for that specific kind of thing.

Perhaps the hardest part of all of this is marketing yourself. Not only showing that you have the skills, but actively informing your audience that you are available, eager and willing to practise your skill for a fee. You have to sell yourself. It sucks, but you have to do it. You have to advertise what you can do, and you have to suffer the rejection and annoyance that comes along with doing that.

You have to ask people to commission you. You have to raise your hand and demand attention. It's not fun, but it's business.

Walking the line between self-promotion and being a person is hard. I can't help you that much with it, it's a very personal balance to find. Stay in touch with your soul, but kill the part that cringes at yourself.

Ultimately, you best marketing asset is your portfolio. Every time you do work, show it off. Repost it, retweet it, spread it around. If someone is happy with what you've made for them, do your best to make sure that other people see that happiness. Ask your clients (politely) to tag you when they share your work.

Oh, and for the love of god, sign everything you create, slap watermarks on anything that's likely to get reposted, and make it impossible for someone not to find your business email on your profile.

building network

If you're a commission artist, you are in community with other commission artists. You share interests, you share experiences, you share needs.

Practise solidarity. Absolutely seek out professional peers to help your business, but equally seek out opportunities to help them with theirs. If someone comes to you for art and you don't have commission slots open, point them at a colleague who you know can do the work too. Gas up your peers and spread their work.

Be a symbiote, not a parasite. Respect the craft of your peers, and don't chase celebrities and big names in the hope of coasting on their coattails. It will fail.

smut

If you're a working artist, at some point you have to reckon with smut and r34.

These genres are excellent sources of income, and fertile ground to build a business and network of customers. BUT. Do not ever make the mistake of thinking that they are "the easy way" or a shortcut. Do not ever make the mistake of thinking you can simply offer to draw tiddies and rake in the cash.

It's work and graft same as literally any other form of labor, it's challenging on both a technical and creative level, and the audience can sense if you're looking down on them. If you approach this from a position of shame, of "eugh, I'm debasing myself by doing this for rent money," it will not work, and you will lose standing and respect in the eyes of every peer whose support you need to succeed.

Just as in all other forms of creativity, if you treat the audience as morons who will slurp up whatever slop you serve them, then you will attract clientele that agrees with you, and you will deserve the misery they will inflict upon you.

If you are going to work in smut, establish your boundaries and enforce them. Know that good clients will feel safer and more comfortable with an artist who clearly states their red lines and earnest interests than they will with someone who tries to attract more clients by pretending to be open to work that they are actually uncomfortable with.

Never, ever, EVER let a client push you to create work you are not comfortable creating. It scars your soul in both the short and long term.

Also, when working with this kind of content, know the rules of payment processors and know how to hide the nature of your business from them. PayPal should never, EVER know the details of the content you sell with their service. Frankly, neither should your bank, most likely.

Look to your peers for advice and best practises about this. And be meticulous about your bookkeeping.

money

I want to tell you to charge at least minimum wage for your time. I want to tell you to charge substantially more than that, because your labor is specialized and highly skilled.

But the economic reality of commission work is that there is a crushing downwards pressure on the labor price of art, which has only been made more devastating by the rise of generative AI, and especially when you are a young artist just starting out, you're going to find yourself in a position where charging even minimum wage for your time will turn away a huge proportion of your potential customers.

Again, your portfolio will be the greatest argument for the value of your work, but you have to build that portfolio first, and very often that means doing a f*kton of work for not remotely enough pay until the pressure of demand finally works in your favor.

I don't condone or justify this state of affairs. It is horrid and I hate it, but I don't know how to fix it either.

Making a living from content creation of any kind requires you to get lucky, on top of working obscene hours and foregoing rest and vacations. It's not a safe or sensible plan for a career or paying your bills.

My sensible advice is to get a "normal" job you can survive doing, and do your creative work on the side, and resign yourself to the possibility that the creative work may never actually pay your bills.

And that is soul-crushing, but I cannot stomach pretending that hard work and gumption will guarantee anyone a decent living if they just try hard enough.

There are people who are better at every aspect of my work than I am, and they struggle harder and work for longer, and they will never see half the success I have, because I happened to get lucky, and they happened not to. It's wretched.

I'm not telling you not to chase your dreams. I'm telling you to do it with your eyes open, and with compassion for yourself first before all else.

All of this to say: I can't tell you what to charge for your work. It depends on everything from your competition to your niche to your genre to your community to your economic situation. You have to figure it out on your own.

All I can tell you is never forget that your work is worth more than the market will let you charge, and to raise your prices as soon and as much as you can. Try to reach at least minimum wage for your time as fast as possible.

in conclusion

Again, I haven't been a commission artist full time for a long time, please do not take any of this as gospel. Listen to your peers before you listen to me.

But trust me about the solidarity. It will save you when all else fails.